Purr, hmm. Last night, Matthew and I had ourselves a mini-party. We bought some decadent Bunny Tracks ice cream, poured ourselves some alcohol-laden beverages, and had a big screen movie-thon in the home theater upstairs. Stargate first, then Big Trouble in Little China. Much giggling ensued. There was some talk about either The Thing then or Escape from New York but after two flicks, I was too tiddly to handle any more Kurt Russell. Hobkin almost had his first taste of Guinness-wanna-be beverage, but paper towels were faster than the inquisitive fuzz-head. He’s far too young to be drinking.
Pity it was too warm to hop into the hot tub; that would’ve made it perfect. But it takes too long for the A/C unit in the sun room to cool the place down. Should’ve got a bigger one when we built the thing. Ah well, live and learn.
Post 2nd flick, I slumped over on the couch, undoubtedly still giggling softly, and Hobkin curled up with me in his favorite spot–nuzzled up against my neck. Y’know, when he was one and a half pounds, curling up at my throat was cute and cuddlysome, but when he’s cresting four pounds and up, it’s a little strangley. But still cute.
Eventually I exhaled enough alcohol from my system to stumble with Matthew to bed, whereupon I slept in! Woohoo! (Okay, I woke up–briefly–to feed Hobkin breakfast, but then I was able to get right back to sleep.) I haven’t been able to sleep past 7am in ages! Two cheers for better living through fermented vegetable matter.
So, today, I’m going to brew up a lovely pot of tea to tempt my muse (mmm, sikkim), and write.
There’s much to be said of the virtue of lazy Sundays.