Twenty Five

Ok, I've recovered from the WVU v. Pitt game. Moving on. . .

Today I turned twenty five. Or as my lovely husband likes to put it, "a quarter of a century." Thanks, sweetheart. Fuzzy woke me up with a half dozen fragrant, custard-filled doughnuts and a kiss. We then trekked out to PineTop through several inches of melting snirt (snow + dirt = snirt). After choosing a likely specimen, Fuzzy cut down a small pine to serve as X-mas tree in the coal camp house.

Afterwards, we visited a friend/neighbor down the hill from PineTop. While we stood yakking in the driveway, we heard a strange, high honking, oddly familiar to me. Not Cananda Goose honking. Not Snow Geese. Swans. A flock of about forty swans flew low across the ridges, blending with the leaden sky and icy hills. Growing up in coastal North Carolina, we would often see swans during the winter, stopping to rest on the Currituck Sound. I have no idea what these guys were doing here in West Virginia, but they were so lovely, and I felt so lucky to see them on my birthday.

Tonight we're headed out to a friend's CD release party. So any Mo'towners should come see Clint tonight at Pleasant Street!