Fuzzy and I spent the last night of 2007 drinking champagne that's been sitting in our fridge for over two years now, watching movies, and eating Aldi pizza in a final fat gram blow-out before the start of our New Year diet. Today it's all black-eyed peas and brown rice. Well, that and the rest of the cheese-ball my fabulous mother-in-law made for us.
On Christmas Eve, Fuzzy and I attended a party thrown by his cousin. After a few crown-and-ginger-ales, this cousin asked Fuzzy if he'd like some fire crackers for New Years. Clearly our mental telepathy failed that night, because though I was beaming Fuzzy thoughts of missing appendages and our porch on fire, he said "Hell yeah!"
So at last night we stepped out into the front yard at 11:59, lit some Black Cats and stepped back. They were intensely loud in the night, but they were soon answered by gunshots throughout our neighborhood and echoing off the hills for miles around. Fuzzy had told me about the traditions of shooting guns into the air at the stroke of midnight, but we had always gone to town for New Year, so I'd never actually witnessed it. I'm not usually one for randomly discharging firearms, but I have to admit, it does feel damn festive.
2 comments:
Happy New year!
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