[The communicator is propped up on, or rather, tumbling off of something when the feed comes on, revealing a glimpse of...]
( The lady of the house, who has managed to heat herself a Hamon bubble-bath. )

I do believe the dry air does make bigger sparks. I wonder if my hamon could channel the jolt into something useful? Hm.

Johnny's gone now? Always with the coming and going, Discedo. Who will you scientist take away from me next?

Are you still here, 6? You're so quiet these days. Do you need another check up tune-up check-up?

Not the first time I've had to get by on war rations. Probably won't be the last. Doesn't mean I have to like it.

Anything more for me to do yet, Jojo?

[Lisa is pottering about in the makeshift greenhouse she assembled with Father Nightroad to cover the tender vegetation back in August, just minding her own business, when the communicator goes off and zaps her, and she accidentally uproots a carrot.]

Ugh! Again? Oh! Now that's just lovely...

Well. There's no nonsense about this little flower, is there? Still...I rather like it.

Well, it seems that little 6 has been sent home to be with his family, after all. I hope he is safe, and happy, wherever that may be. I wonder what this little Christmas plant will look like when it finally blooms. It's growing quite heartily already.

Sing me a song, oh Joseph, Joseph...

I have something for you, Jojo. It should be out of the oven soon, so get it while it's warm.

Father Abel, I have some for you also, if you don't paying the toll-fee.

[They're not quite Christmas cookies, but she did manage to bake some scones. Beware of mistletoe on the way to get some!]

I rather like December.

I should have a birthday some time this month.

Well, I wonder. If it was snowing back in August, does that mean it will be unseasonably warm in December? Or will it just be winter as usual?

I guess I don't have to worry about getting soft in my old age around here.

Have I lost a day? I wish I could remember that dream. All I know is I woke up with a strange sense of...of the calm in the eye of a storm.

Ah, well, life goes on.