The annual raptor visit occurred early and this year, for the first time, it wasn't a hawk but a peregrine falcon.
He terrified our usual visitors by perching handsomely in the sun for a good fifteen minutes before taking off. The food spread was heavy on the carbohydrates indoors and protein heavy outdoors for all of my bird, squirrel, rabbit and deer friends and they did make it back for some serious holiday noshing. Indoors, as is tradition, mom made far too much food. Festivities lasted well into the wee hours and I didn't slink off to write which kept me well in the family poker game that I handily won.
Now New Year's thing is looming and I can tell you I hate only Valentine's Day more. Curling up with a good book, music in the background as I sip a hot cup of tea sounds lovely. No TV. No clock watching.
But that won't happen.
I'll be amongst humans and made to be sociable and happy. Damn. There is a rumor that young Bryon will make an appearence. If he survives the full on Jordan experience with his sanity intact, we have a hideous Jordan ritual that features him in the middle of a circle as we all dance around him and sing, "One of us, one of us." After, he gets a tattoo on his ass, he's made to drink from a cauldron and he must sacrifice an Elmo doll. Bryon, you'd best get fucked up.