Oh Me of Little Faith

What was I saying an hour or so ago about momentous day?  The need to break open a chilled bottle and imbibe in the most celebratory fashion?  Well, make that two chilled bottles.  And add a bar of Cadbury chocolate to that.  The Missing Manuscript has arrived!  It arrived literally ten minutes ago via the blessed, astute, duty-bound and heroic letter carrier.  The wrapping on the box looks absolutely pristine.  No stamp cancellation, no torn paper, no smudge marks on the paper.  No customs declaration slip.

Maybe that's what held it up or got it lost.  I don't know.  But it is all intact.  The manuscript is here, and David's 17 pages of comments and corrections are here, having braved the US east coast's snow storms, and the blizzard of the northeast section of England.  Maybe it was waiting for the groundhog's predictions to see if the travel route would be clear.  Whatever.  Oh happy day!

Guess what I will be doing as soon as the edits for "A Well Dressed Corpse" are finished?  One guess allowed per household, please.

I have absolutely nothing festive in the house with which I can toast David and the combined US/UK postal services.  Nothing.  Not a gulp of OJ or a soda or the dregs of a Snapple.  Maybe I'll have to make do with a glass or water or a cuppa.  Not quite the same as a fizzy root beer, but it is the thought that counts.  Maybe I'll just save some of the liquid from the lima bean/sausage soup I'm making and down a spoonful of that in David's honor.

After all, odder things have happened.  Like the appearance of this manuscript.