I hate New Years. I never really see the point in blowing a lot of money to celebrate a holiday that doesn’t really mean very much. So a quiet New Years Eve at home with Aude and Jerome was just what the doctor ordered. Although I suspect he wouldn’t have ordered quite so much foie gras and champagne.
After quite a good start to the new year, I was a little disappointed to discover that I’d accidentally locked the cats in the bedroom overnight (not helped by the fact that they knocked over a stack of papers and managed to jam the door shut). The result of this lock-in was a big pile of cat poo in the centre of the bathroom floor.
Not really an auspicious start to 2008, is it?