The little spacecraft that could, did. Again. It'll be downlinking the data for the next two years or so. It's a 25 watt transmitter; it's kind of amazing we can get the signal at all at this distance.

 

It's always fun listening in to the control room of somebody else's spacecraft, trying to figure out the acronyms as the Mission Operations Manager polls each subsystem for status. At least in this case the MOM is a woman (and yes, her call sign on the voice loops is Mom.) That's not so very uncommon nowadays.

 

Also up today, between events Out There, is making chicken broth out of the bones and carcass of last weekend's dinner, thawing out a slice of Christmas stollen. Oh, and, if I can spare some attention, re-reading, yet again, my latest attempt at a novel, right through, so as to arrive at answers to questions like, Would anybody else ever want to read something like this? How exactly can I introduce more conflict that's not just between the ears of the narrator? And how to communicate the setting and the characters' reactions and feelings (as viewed from inside the head of the narrator, who's maybe not the most sensitive person ever).

As you know, Bob, there are some major changes coming up. I've seen paperwork for most of them, and should have firm commitments from nearly everybody involved within the month. Eeple. I'm actually doing this. Doing these things. Changing essentially everything about my life in one swell foop. I'm excited, but also a little terrified.