I have put my foot down and put a one-night end to the party train that is going on in this town. Someone has to have a grip here.
Last night, we hosted Carl for after dinner drinks at Da Leo. He showed me a fascinating silver piece, the size of a pocket watch; it was something a priest of the Catholic faith carried (although--for the life of me--I can't remember why). I simply loved the simple and gracious lines of it.
Whatever its original purpose, Carl uses it to carry his Vicodin and Ambien; that is probably why it came out in the first place. I think I had pain (or I couldn't sleep).

These are the last days of our solitude here; the first visitors start arriving later this weekend to initiate the official start of The Season of Visitors. They have several goals: Escape the cold of the North, dance on as many table tops as possible, and drink, drink, drink--til there is no more.

Hmmm...isn't that the reason I moved here ten years ago?