I just had turkey and dressing for breakfast because I didn't eat yesterday. At all. I did, however, drink. A lot. Luckily for me, so did everyone else. (Posted at noon.)
Never mind. It's 6:15. The kids went home with cousins last night and are staying another night. Going back to bed never really made sense so I wandered around a while and then got on the couch and...opened a beer. Well. Don't THAT just crank a Center Star tractor? It's prety cold here...for Alabama...so I just set the leftovers out in the yard. There's a good chance they'll still be there tomorrow because...WHAT? SOMEONE ELSE IS GONNA CLEAN THIS SHIT UP?
So life is good. Since the Little Kids weren't here we got into the Top Shelf. That is NOT tequila...that is the only shelf on the bookshelves that only the 6'5" husband can reach and it holds an album collection that is absolutely stellar. Music don't rock without the scratches. So we sorted albums, put the ones not in sleeves in sleeves, moved all the rolled-up posters to the cardboard poster holder (Dan Penn and Spooner in London...how cool can it GET?) and listened to some of the most incredible music ever recorded on this planet. Love and happiness. Tell me something good. Play your piano now. Something in the way she moves. Can't keep his mind on nothing else. We ate leftover brie with pecans and drank a bottle of wine, and Solomon Burke just rocked right on. God loves Charlie Rose. I have cream and pecorino so there is fettucine in my immediate future.
I'm just a little pig in the mud. Thankfully.
Okay. This shit is...funny. It's 11:33. We've brought out Delbert, keeping in mind we lived in Fort Worth and have heard him in a parking lot. I've learned how to love you. Corrina.Corrina.Corrina.
Oh. Wait. Another post to cover our ass.