Ahhhhhh . . . I slip on my snuggly wool slippers and give a tired but happy sigh to be home again after ANOTHER trip. My God, do those people ever stay home?
After a looong weekend in Tennessee, North Carolina and Virginia, I think we should all take a hint from the disarming friendliness of our Appalachian peers. What passes for normal grumbly chit-chat just seems churlish in their midst, and after a Mason jar or two of hard lemonade, it's hard to think of much to grouse about. Note to self: save the snarky comments for your first novel.
While we were having perfect warm days and cool crickety nights, it was (at last!) raining at home. In fact, it snowed on Mt. Hood - we saw a news report of a bunch of people at Timberline Lodge in shorts and flip-flops tip-toeing across the parking lot. They looked pretty silly.
When we came home tonight, the kittens came prancing up with their pointy little tails at attention, looking unbearably sweet - for about 30 seconds. They're enormous; I think they learned to read while we were gone and it looks like a couple of them may have started smoking.
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