Home from the Fest

Pan has been meowing and muttering his head off tonight. He wasn't thrilled when I had the nerve to go to work this morning, was very relieved that I came home again this evening, and can't understand why I'm trying to do anything but love on the cat now that I'm finally here. Tough life he has, eh?


This was Friday morning, before I left. Take that, paparazzi! Photograph me, will you? Extreme nose close-up!

He really has taken most of my evening. I was able to give Harold some attention, but he has since retreated to the bedroom and left the floor to Pan. And Pan, of course, doesn't want me to make dinner, or eat, or do anything that doesn't involve lapping the cat. He was here helping me compute, until I dared to take exception to his leaning on the keyboard and sending Picasa into fits (open the photo! close it! open it!). Now he's sulking in the kitchen, but not for long, I imagine. I'm sure he'll be murping and interrupting again any minute.

So I shall make this not-so-detailed for now. I had a really nice weekend, a fine trip, safely home again, and ready to get ready for bed (sad, isn't it?). Have a picture to hold you:


The trees are only just starting to turn, they'll be much better in a few weeks, but still, rather pretty. I do love autumn in New England.