At approximately 4 p.m. today I talked with my adviser/co-author, and we agreed that while there were things we both wanted to change, they were mostly little tasks, on the order of fixing citations and footnotes, rewriting unclear passages, and (in one case) adding more material on Bayesian statistics. But it was all minor. And so therefore I drafted a cover letter and sent the manuscript off to the publishers. It's now entirely in their hands.
After that I got to wrapping presents. This involved an ancillary trip, to buy gift tags. My dad's supply of ten whomptillion (British ten thousand godzillion) tags acquired when the ``Two Guys'' stores closed finally ran out yesterday. Did you know how many gift tags there are in the dollar store the day before Christmas Eve? Well, I ended up with a couple packs of ``Santa's Se[ something ]'' ... the price tag obscured the name on every pack ... of ``handmade scrapbooking stickers,'' which look great and have little ribbons and beads and such, but not always spots for names. I also got two dozen Bob the Builder labels.
I accidentally set the bar for my gifts to family too high last year, when some ``I don't know, maybe they'll like this'' gifts turned out to be loved and, in the case of the head-bobbing Japanese kitsch dolls, were talked about to this week. But I think I got gifts which, if not just right, are at least peculiar. And they're now all wrapped, so I can relax and enjoy the next four days of my visit back home. I'm finished.
Trivia: In his letter to his fiancée's father, asking permission to marry her, Louis Pasteur does not mention her name. Source: Louis Pasteur, Patrice Debré.
Currently Reading: Sea of Glory, Nathaniel Philbrick.