And there you have it, friends—another Challenge in the books. I’ll keep this uncharacteristically brief except to say that I realized I’m always asking others to bravely post in-the-moment LDBC-elfies when I haven’t done it myself in a while. (Last year was just my hand.) So here’s my characteristically grim countenance, which looks the same in winning and in defeat. Plus a bit of “I’ll just smash my hair down” grooming for good measure. (You’d think I’d look happier, considering I also woke up to a nifty write-up on Boing Boing. But my face has just one setting, expression-wise: Easter Island moai.)

You know the drill, all. Share your victory LDBC-elfies as comments to a post on the Facebook page, tweet it out and tag @LDBChallenge, or post it to Instagram and tag @ldbchallenge.

Don’t forget to fill out the form (bit.ly/LDBCform) so that I’m working with comprehensive stats when I crunch all the numbers and post the wrap-up (halfway through January, at the rate I’ve been going).

And if you can, please send a little something to Americares, which is our chosen charity. A donation is not something anyone has to do, but if you’re so inclined, the money goes to a great organization, and you can donate here.

Oh, and some of you have asked where you might find my books, which I appreciate. You can read about the series here.

Thanks, as always, for helping to keep me sane during the season, people. Happy Holidays to you and yours, and I’ll see you when I post the wrap-up.

For Peter!

“All the world will be your enemy, Prince with a Thousand Enemies, and whenever they catch you, they will kill you. But first they must catch you…”

— Richard Adams

There’s a moment in one of my favorite books, Watership Down, that reminds me of the point in the game we’re at now. (And if you’ve never read the novel or seen the 1978 animated movie, I highly recommend both. Just don’t assume that cartoon bunnies are suitable fare for younger kids, however, because the film’s pretty dark, bloody, and violent.)

Bigwig, the toughest fighter among the hero rabbits of the tale, has acquitted himself in battle far better than his opponent, the much larger General Woundwort, expected. And though bloodied and badly wounded, Bigwig uses a break in the fighting to reposition himself for a final face-off. When Woundwort returns to kill him, the general realizes that’s going to be much harder than he’d bargained for and offers to let Bigwig live if he’ll switch sides.

“My Chief Rabbit has told me to defend this run,” Bigwig replies, “and until he says otherwise I shall stay here.”

And oh, does he.

That’s about where we are in this Thing of Ours, friends. We passed the milestone of 500 fallen four days ago, and we’re steadily marching toward 600 today. We’re hurting, we’re tired, and we’re not sure who’s going to make it when so many haven’t.

But we’re here. And that stinkin’ kid better watch his ass, lest we knock him on it to get to the daylight behind him.

Hang tough, people. We’re not far now.

Do it for yourselves.

For those no longer with us.

For Peter.

Look sharp, stay vigilant, and cross that line as one.

But as always, should you fall, fill out the reporting form (https://bit.ly/LDBCform), share an LDBC-elfie by commenting on a Facebook page post, or tweet it out and tag @LDBChallenge.

(And my apologies for the inability to create a new post on the page; I’ve checked every setting, and though you should be able to, you can’t. I blame Zuck.)

We’re almost there, folks.

LDBC-Elfies: A Chronicle of Faces Fallen

Shana Tognazzini had a problem. With a capital P, and that rhymes with B, and that stands for Boy.

Shana, like all of us, was devoting nearly all of her waking hours to keeping The Boy at bay, letting the rest of her life lie fallow just to survive. But her four-year-old daughter had a date with the Dread Drummer to practice for her holiday pageant. So what was Shana to do?

Look at that face. What would you do? Are you really gonna tell that face: “Sorry, kid, but you’re on your own and are doomed to humiliate yourself in front of everyone, so please consider it a character-building exercise?”

No.

Hell, no.

She’s a mom. She’s a fighter.

So she took one for the tyke. (Which, yes, technically means the girl’s out, too, but the child doesn’t appear to be too broken up about it.)

For that’s what we do in this Thing of Ours. We stick together. We help our kid get ready for her thing. We don’t say anything as the song’s playing in the store because our pal may not have noticed it. So we wait until we’re safe in the parking lot to ask if they did, and if they give an honest “no,” we fill out the reporting form for ourselves and root them on.

I mean, is there anything more noble than understanding the wound is mortal and waving the survivors on with an empassioned, “Go without me”?

If running this Thing of Ours has taught me anything, friends—and 13 years in, wouldn’t you think I’ve learned something?—it’s that we’re all in it together. (OK, not all of us, but that’s why we have the “Hoist with His Own Petard” rule.)

It’s not a new lesson, of course; I’ve talked about it before.

But these days it’s pretty much the classic Moe Tucker–Lou Reed duet. You held up a stagecoach in the rain. And I’m doin’ the same.

For I may technically be able to win without you, and you without me, but it’s not nearly as much fun. So stay together. Watch each other’s backs. And do it for Peter.

Again, if you do take a tumble, please fill out the reporting form (https://bit.ly/LDBCform), and post an LDBC-elfie like one of those in the latest batch, below, by commenting on the Facebook page or by tweeting and tagging @LDBChallenge.

Ever vigilant!

LDBC-Elfies: Defeated but Not Forgotten