Deficiencies, Empty Promises and the Cold, Hard Realities of NYC Real Estate

On our way up to the Monastery for Christmas (because, really, who does Christmas better than Zen monastics?  Seriously - we even had a cranking dance party where we raved until the late hour of 9:15 p.m.), I told my car mates to remind me to take photographs this year.  I told them that, if I was not seen with my camera in hand, to ask me what was wrong with me.  Then I changed that question to a statement: they were to tell me "There is something wrong with you."

Of course, I did not take one photograph.  The next day, when I complained of this situation, my former car mate (now dorm mate) said, "There is something wrong with you."

Sangha treasure indeed.

At least this year I lucked out once again with my sangha treasure secret santa gift recipient.  A known knitter with a love of water.  Could it get any easier?  I dusted off my drum carder and spun up a skein of watery thick and thin (no pictures of that, either).  

I have missed you, dear drum carder!  I promise, promise, promise that we shall meet again.  Soon.

Meanwhile, Lucy has created a kitty kat kondo.  A 2BR duplex.  No doorman but excellent views of the food bowls and an easy commute to the litter box.  After a short bidding war, a victor emerged.