Just so you know, what I was doing while I wasn’t writing this weekend was hosting a crew of some fine, fine people.
On the final morning of their stay, we all woke up in a glorious pile of sleeping bags and sweaty skin, laughing about night moves and dog pee, gleeful to eat (at least some) of our fifty pounds of potatoes. Then Quinn asked for spare clothes, Dinah-the-dog having…used his up…and I was more than happy to oblige.
Here’s what happened.
At some point, when I get good enough at the internet, I’ll post the to-be-gif of Ross. Until then, I’ll just let you drool in waiting.
I should also note that this morning, bursting through the morning fog and rain from the hilltop hospital back towards our humble apartment– coffee, friends, Christina’s Ramen-for-breakfast– I passed the house of the ever-changing-cat-window where I saw not one but TWO cats.
Turning my rainbow-hatted head to the side, I yelled, “NO WAY, double cats!”
Welcome to earf.