It's Friday, or as I like to think of it, Gentleman's Saturday.* Specifically, it's Friday the 13th, always a lucky day for me, a person who missed being born on Friday the 13th by a mere ~19 hours.
It's been a month of birds-of-prey sightings: just this morning I saw another Deering Oaks hawk, a smallish brown one drying its wings while perched in a tree, holding them wide and letting the wind blow through the feathers.
Everything is eerily green for January. It's 50 degrees and raining. There are teeny buds on the lilac.
We started out the week eating Chinese food and playing? solving? a mystery-in-a-box with Adam and Jeannette's wonderful upstairs neighbor, Dani. We were successful, but we required many hints.
Sleuths, sleuthing
*To be perfectly honest, I think of Thursday as Gentleman's Friday. Today is actually just normal Friday.
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