New Year’s Day coffee.
As predicted, we went to bed before twelve. The two-day drive back from New York was easy enough, but still. We were ready for a long restful night’s sleep.
Anne slept through the fireworks and gun shots at midnight. Not me. What is the deal with people shooting guns in the air to celebrate things? Do they think that the bullets don’t come down somewhere?
No matter now. This morning the coffee is good and hot and the oatmeal has some maple syrup we brought
Old school.
Patti Smith.
