‘Twas the night before Dub Dub, when all through the house, Not an iPad was stirring, not even with a mouse; iPod Socks were hung by the chimney with care, In hopes that Hair Force One would be there; The developers were nestled all snug in their beds; While visions of new APIs danced in their heads; With STS in his ‘kerchief, and Marco in a cap, Had just settled their plans to rewrite some apps. When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, Siracusa sprang from his bed, dreaming of Chris Lattner. A crash in the window due to old Flash, Casey monitored his shutters without spending much cash. The moon lit the floor as the Mac Pro fans blow, Gave a lustre of midday to SwiftUI below, When what to our wondering eyes did appear, Not a Hey update, but Apple’s stream far and near. With a dad-jokey intro so lively and quick, I knew in a moment he must be St. Tim.
