I want to go to the gym but I don't feel I can leave the house until the France/Nigeria match is over.
I know Elle is taking a long "lunch" today and standing in a bar in DC screaming her substantial lungs out.
So the cats and I watch at home. They are napping, taking a break from their Rumspringa.
Which allows me a break from worry.
Between them and soccer I had to dash to the hairdresser last week. It's all turning me grey. Or at least it was.
Last night we had a birthday dinner for the French Girl. The usual suspects. But this time they carried gifts over with their beers.
And to their surprise were served glasses of pineapple gazpacho, garnished with finely chopped cucumbers, 3 colors of peppers, vidalia onion, cilantro and my first garden jalapeno.
Is it a shot someone wondered?
No, it's soup I said, try it. It went down so nicely on a hot Virginia night I forgot to get pictures.
But I got a shot of the annual shrimp boil.
And everyone whipped out their phones for a pic of the raspberry almond cake, served with whipped cream and more raspberries. These are my kind of people.
There are still 3 pieces begging to be eaten.
But the match is over, France has won! Happy Birthday mademoiselle from Le Bleu.
I'm off to the gym.
Can't wait for my afternoon (cake) coffee.