When next you see me...

...I'll be an old fart. *g* Yes, a milestone birthday is bearing down upon me. I knew I didn't want to be in a position to be abused at work (I can get bitchy when tormented so why subject them or me to that?) so, since it's summertime and the heat is on, it seemed wisest to go to where it's cool and green. So, I'm off to Big Sur. Ancient redwood groves, crashing surf, otters frolicking in the kelp beds, good food, drinks with umbrellas, and sunsets into the Pacific. I've printed out a list of shops, and a couple of bakeries each in Carmel, Monterey and Santa Cruz (I dearly miss the wonderful bakeries of Europe and Britain.) I've even figured out where I can pick up Deathly Hallows on Saturday. *g*

Some friends I see yearly at MediaWest have a small wager on the book. Ten predictions each; whoever gets the most wrong gets to buy everyone else a dessert. My list is:
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I'm almost packed (just need to pull a few selections OUT of the suitcase.) The only chore left is to vacuum so the kitty nanny won't be too horrified. Brindle is in the house somewhere...I think. God, he's a strange cat. Scooter is so terribly thin and I won't be surprised if he passes while we're away. The varmits are having fun. The big skunk that liked to chase Brindle around was slapping his front feet at a wary and confused baby coon. Momma had to come up and provide back up (don't even THINK you are going to harass my child!) Well, time to go get my beauty sleep. Ha ha ha!