We’re leaving for the weekend in an hour, and I’m in that post-packed, pre-leave limbo. My laptop’s open, and I have three options: touring the blogosphere, surfing the internet, and writing. Although blogs are tempting and mindless surfing has its merits, I am electing to be good and add a few pages to my book, since I probably won’t get to it at all tomorrow, and I’d like to see if this morning’s roll continues. But before I go behave myself, and then drive off to escape the madness that descends upon our tourist town every weekend throughout the spring, I will leave you with one more picture:
I realize I’m flirting with cat obsession, but I suppose I’ll just have to live with that. I already have that reputation among my offline friends, anyway. And they, in turn dutifully ask after the cats each time we talk on the phone, address cards and e-mails to them, and sometimes even include a cat toy or two with Christmas presents. This is what happens when you are over thirty and don’t yet have kids; your friends begin to anthropomorphize your pets.
Okay! I’m off to work on my book. I won’t be able to respond to comments right away because we’ll be camping (and, yes, the forecast is calling for temps in the twenties), but I adore comments so please don’t let that stop you. Here’s an idea: If you were giving this photo a caption, what would it be? I promise to respond when I get back, probably by e-mail unless I find out you prefer otherwise. Have a great weekend!