These long hours have annihilated free time. Looking forward to taking a breath. Can you believe I picked up David Baldacci's The Christmas Train? What was I thinking? I was gasping with an attack of the sticky-sweets by the end of the first paragraph. I forced myself to read three pages. Smothered in molasses, honey, and maple syrup, I gave it up and wished I didn't have to touch it again. But I have to in order to return it. Oh, dear.