Happy New Year to all my darling, darling folks. As Paul Childs said to Julia (we watched Julie and Julia last night), "You are the butter on my bread."
I am so profoundly sorry for leaving y'all in the lurch so long. Can't say that it's because I'm too busy. Well, I was a bit, but I also confess to being buried deep in some fabulous books. I practically devoured 'The Painter from Shanghai' and am now on the second of Stieg Larsson's trilogy, 'The Girl Who Played with Fire.' (a co-work lent me all three book at once - what was she thinking?!)
Christmas didn't go exactly as planned. We stayed close to home rather than travel east. I got some sleep, read, ate, read, slept. Christmas afternoon involved in-laws and wine. Work last week was a mix of time crawling slowly, confused deadlines and fervent prayers to dodge the virulent flu that seems to have the entire North Okanagan on its knees begging for mercy.
I have a whole whack of pics to show you - from the CP Christmas Train, the Grand Slam National and other events of the past few weeks. They're all on the other computer so you'll just have to wait. Bryan's got a yummy shrimp dish on the stove almost ready to be attacked; we're polishing off the leftover champagne from last night, a really nice dusty-blowing dry Segura from Spain. I could seriously develop an addition to this stuff.
There's a new fitness place just opened a block away from the office, open 24/7, so I've got started there. The Aquafit classes conflicted with curling so that totally wasn't going to work. However, curling is not enough of a workout to get me into a swimsuit this summer, so early mornings at the gym it is ... again. It's a sad ol' cycle.
Nevertheless, my promises to you and to myself are to get toned up physically and mentally, and to be more diligent in my writing, both here and in other pursuits. Do-able resolutions, methinks.
Best of wishes for your 2011, big hugs and kisses, and poke me if I get tardy here!