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| "Wyatt and Wynnona - Epsilon Lyrae" |
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| "Wyatt and Wynnona - Epsilon Lyrae" - a big sigh of relief, it works as black and white. |
Good evening, Everybun!
Let us welcome the New Year of February! The cold is here. The wind is here. But the only snowflakes you see are the Floridians, bundled up, wobbling about like some Micheline creatures, hissing, and whining, emitting a quiet, high-pitched buzz of lamentations, like some kind of frozen swamp mosquitoes.
Last night, my hoomin went for a walk in this, thumping bent on spotting a flurry, and got bupkis. Came back with a frozed off schnozzle, and spotted notin', zip, zilch!
We thawed him out and had ourselves a cookies-and-art extravaganza late into the night. He gave up, served us a plate of treats, and we took turns gobbling up whatever we liked. Charlie and I had a wonderful grooming jam session, and the silly biped just sat there spellbound, with his jaws on the floor. Creep!
And here's the rub: how do we concentrate on the best moments we have and keep them from falling into panic pits? How do we enjoy them, knowing - and not knowing - what lies ahead, when fear tries to steal it all, before M*nd*y ever gets here.
We're talking a very real M*nd*y. the one tomorrow, with a V.E.T. visit at half past two in the afternoon. ow. We're really asking.
When the sun goes down, we'll "go for two," with another plate of snacks, and more brush swinging.
Good luck and good night!
- Gus
