All is quiet on New Year's Day

I spent New Year's Eve with two of my favourite people. Sat in Andrea's front yard, underneath the birchlike tree dusted with fairy lights, drank a glass of wine, a glass of Pepsi, two cups of tea, a cup of coffee, ate Burger Rings, laughed at the rather strange sexual antics of our dogs, listened to music. Had a late-night-early-morning visit from a friend of Andrea's who I haven't seen for a while, so 'twas good to catch up. 'Twas fun.

I am still awake. It is 5.30 in the morning. My car rattled all the way home, so I turned the radio up. The sky is lightening outside my window, pinks and greys and light blues, beautiful pastels, set against the darkness of the tree in the next door neighbour's back garden. I wrapped myself in my blanket, sat and looked for a few minutes. Centred myself into the new year. Wished God a happy new year. I do not see this view very often at all. It is always on the tail end of going to bed. It makes me cry. Perhaps it is good I am not a morning person.

Good morning, everyone. I am going to bed now.

++++++

I am still here. It is 6am. The sky is light outside now, almost violent streaks of pink five minutes ago which have now calmed, with the rising of the sun, to a lovely creamy whitey yellowy colour. There is something comforting about that colour. The light of day.

I just spotted the mother cat crawling along the top of the fence. Hunting for food, I suppose. She limps. I hadn't noticed the limp before. She is still requiring fattening. I put some more food out for her and her babies. New Year's Breakfast.

Now I really am going to bed :)