Happy New Year, truly. I intend to jump into this one, as I have all others. Copy Tom's move:
General weather activity -- the polar vortex swept seriously down here to la Panhandle . . . my trusty (and frighteningly old) central heating has been working overtime. But today, the sun was warm and the Gulf was gorgeous.
The semester has begun at the college. All is -- as is typical in the first week honeymoon phase -- all lovely. They are lovely; I am lovely; life is lovely.
The blue news is my bachelor's degree university (the Tigers of Auburn) did not manage to win over the Florida State Seminoles in the national championship game for young ones. Well. It was contested. And good, so good, that they got that far.
Now, on to the NFL: Brady and his Patriots will meet Manning (that awful Manning boy) and his Broncos in Denver for the AFC championship. In the NFC, San Francisco takes on Seattle at Seattle. Home advantages may rule here, but I am looking for the Patriots and darling Tom to not let this one go. A signifier for me, but why I am not exactly sure. Brady is cuter than Manning. Doesn't that count?
Did you know I will celebrate my 59th birthday this year? Not quite as tropical-sited as I prefer, but still . . .
there is such wonder in so many things. And my luck seems to be holding out. One more silver dollar.
Skating the margins of what appears to be normal,
Your Joyce
