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self-portrait of the blogger as a young cat and an old dog
The young cat belongs to my friend Knight. The kitten spent part of the evening perched on my lap, which was covered by an afghan knitted by K's grandmother:
CNN's two CST clocks -- one for New Orleans, one for Nashville -- were about five seconds apart, which resulted in two sets of numbers being shouted around us, which was pretty funny. The BYM and I started kissing at around 11:59:59 New Orleans time and didn't stop until 12:something:something Nashville time -- as fine a start to the year as I'd hoped.
Today sped by far too quickly, but it included getting to my first yoga class of the year (in jeans, since somehow it's not enough to bring the pants downstairs if you don't put them in the bag you take out of the door...), visiting honorary and immediate family, rereading the New Year's Eve scene in Nora Roberts's Black Rose, and not letting sleeping dogs lie (at least, not right when I got home):
CNN's two CST clocks -- one for New Orleans, one for Nashville -- were about five seconds apart, which resulted in two sets of numbers being shouted around us, which was pretty funny. The BYM and I started kissing at around 11:59:59 New Orleans time and didn't stop until 12:something:something Nashville time -- as fine a start to the year as I'd hoped.
Today sped by far too quickly, but it included getting to my first yoga class of the year (in jeans, since somehow it's not enough to bring the pants downstairs if you don't put them in the bag you take out of the door...), visiting honorary and immediate family, rereading the New Year's Eve scene in Nora Roberts's Black Rose, and not letting sleeping dogs lie (at least, not right when I got home):
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