Noel. 2019.

All organized and ready to go.  My 27th Christmas in Brittany and not alone for the third of those years in succession.  Although I sometimes have vague feelings of nostalgia.  But we won’t go into that in detail.

Humans are Herd People and The Caves are now brick built boxes, unless you live where I do, in which case it is bloody great rocks.  Brittany is one huge great rock.

Humans generally don’t do well alone.  I don’t know why.  I managed and got to like it.

Just about to make The Bloody Mary’s.  More Bloody and less Mary this year, until I get pissed, in which case God help us all.

I still so love it here.  It’s The Celt you see.  We Celts aren’t very complicated people.  Sufficient unto the day in Pagan Terminology.   The Bretons are Celts.

Something good always comes from disasters.  We are optimists.  I only ever get depressed at Full Moon, and then not for very long.  I think it’s the Negative Gravity.  I briefly feel disconnected to  Planet Earth.  Taurians are Earth People, so this is total logic to me.

I am an utterly Dog Person.  And never doubt that the rotten little swine knows exactly who in in charge.  Me.  Mama Wolf.  He just pushes his luck from time to time.  He is a little more challenging than any other dog that I have owned, but he is so fucking beautiful.  Snake Eyes without a doubt.  His head is almost Egyptian.

Anyway, sorry about the ramble.  Time for the not so Mary Bloodies.