It was one of those things where I could have gotten in a quick nap before the coverage of the Queen's funeral began, but I thought I'd just stay awake. I got quite a bit of knitting done, got the latest jigsaw puzzle going --- you know, the types of accomplishments of night owls. Then, though, I began to flag. Hello, Dr Pepper. Or two. Or, maybe, three. I watched it all. I ricocheted among networks when anchors' incessant chatter was too much to abide. (Honestly, silence on the air is allowable. Stop talking,) So here I am with my KC notes. Let's begin, shall we? When Bill Nighy showed up in last year's contest, it made me quite happy, as I think he's rather divine. It was nice to know a lot of other people knew him and appreciated him, too. (Fact Obscura: he delivers one of my All-Time Favorite Movie Lines in "The Young Visiters.") This year, there were a couple of people who got no votes at all ...