The day after Christmas is kind of like a fairground with the rides all packed up and trailered away. There seems to be ornaments strewn across every surface, the fridge is bulging with turkey leftovers. And I think that Bootsie is hung over. Just joking about Bootsie, at least I think that I am.
He has been on a extended"staycation" at our house, with very infrequent day trips. Gar is playing the concierge, and I am the masseuse.
He isn't impressed with the level of service that either of us are offering. I have a feeling that he won't be a big tipper.
What does he expect for a cheap free vacation?
He is lucky we aren't fully booked, and could upgrade him to the presidential suite. Read that as, he takes up most of the bed.
We have returned him to his rightful home many times. One night last week I was even tromping across the street with a squirming cat scratching my best weatherproof jacket, and snow filling my garden clogs. I could barely see with the driving snow covering my glasses, it was dark, and very cold. What I don't do for that cat. And no, I didn't get photos. He is determined to have his Christmas holiday at our place. Black and white cats have a mind of their own, and he is determined.
My garden is sullen, and pouting, at least those plants that survived the chilly -7 C temperatures. Another apology post to the perennials is in the works. As for any of the more tender plants, well…that certainly is a big compost pile isn't it?
Whoops, again. Bring on the new year.
