So we've recovered from the extra day driving lunch to the top-secret nuclear facility (no sleep to speak of, freezing rain in New Hampshire all morning including a bunch of highway closed for a semi across the road, pea soup fog in Massachusetts all afternoon), and the last big hurdle building the presents was neatly overcome today with a bunch of single-edge razor blades and a deadblow hammer. (They're pretty, but of course I can't put up any pictures yet.)
I even got a haircut. It's not as if the agenda is completely clear tomorror or the next day or the next, but at least the schedule isn't completely unmanageable.
*phew*
That doesn't mean this isn't stupid -- telling someone who buys a cunningly-sliced sheet of plastic from you that they can't sell it to someone else or even give it away, and that they can't "reverse-engineer" or modify the user's manual has got to be the height of chutzpah -- imagine "You may not serve meals or any component thereof on this plate to anyone who is not a member of your immediate family" -- but you have to have some slight sympathy for the poor guy. He's selling something that's not only easy to make duplicates of, but whose entire purpose is to facilitate making duplicates of itself that in turn are used to make other cunningly sliced sheets of plastic or wood. Without that crazy license agreement the first customer can pretty much destroy the whole rest of his market. (Then again, I'm not buying the darn thing, even for a mere $40, so he may have destroyed the rest of his market himself, but that's another matter entirely.)