If 2011 had a gravesite, I would be one of those who would tap dancing happily at its exit.
What a year. More lows than highs. But overall, one hell of a rollercoaster of a ride.
Jan. 5 starts with my losing
. Then we head into the FL legislature and although exciting and filled with hope, politicians prove they cannot vote without nitpicking. Berry
The carryover of the horrors of
Ebro are still in the news and Ronnie Williams gets a slap on the wrist with his sentence. He’s quite fortunate I was not on that jury.
Final year of the
OB administration. Oh. I don’t do politics. For a reason.
July comes and I lose my best boy, Schemie.
What a year.
Things settle to non-annoyance by the pro-racing folks, so I take opportunity to adopt DeeDee and Craigie. DeeDee, pulled from
Ebro before being hauled there and just before the atrocities. (Is there any wonder I fight for the greyhounds? Damn…)
And so now, things pick up. New legislation is being introduced in FL to decouple. And that’s when the nuts come out spouting PR nonsense and posting nothing other than personal attacks. They are playtoys to the cat I can be.
Newbies have settled in to home life and we go back to normal. For us. The Don Quixote’s of the world.
Now, if my furnace would just work and my Dork-boy would stop with the wildlife thing…
A new year. Not the same as before. And not with the same as before. But a new year nonetheless.
And here is to a new year! I hope all have a safe, warm New Year’s Eve!