Today I’m driving along, nearly to my parking deck when I see a guy walking down the street (that’s not the funny part). This guy, probably mid-forties, is wearing a long shearling coat with a wide fleece collar which he's got turned up in back, a muffler, gloves and - honest to gods - earmuffs. Dude. This is ATLANTA. It gets cold, really cold, maybe once every three years, and I say this as a native of Atlanta, not someone who was transplanted here from Frozen Knob, Minnesota with a different perspective on ‘cold’. But wait there’s more. Guess what the forecast is for today? Sunny and it’s going to be sixty. Not six, sixty. Dude is bundled up like Randy in A Christmas Story, it’s forty degrees outside and later it’s going to be SIXTY.

What with being busy at work and all the holiday bustle, I neglected to write about Sprocket’s Big Date! A couple of weeks ago, he had a date with Shu! They met at a park for a walk and later she invited him over to her place for pizza. You know how chicks are - they’ve gotta check you out in a public setting before they’ll let you know where they live. They didn’t seem very interested in each other; at the park, she was more interested in dead leaves and he was more interested in tangling me up in his leash, which is my designated punishment for making him wear it. At Shu’s house, they sat on opposite sides of the room and barely interacted. As it turns out, though, Sprocket is far from indifferent - he was merely playing it cool (can’t let her know you like her, right, guys?). I overheard Finnovar ask about Shu the other day and Sprocket said, “Hell yeah! She was pretty hot - and she has some sweeeeet chew toys!” so The Finn wanted to know if he’d called her yet. Sprocket hadn’t, but apparently this was only because he knew she was going out of town for the holidays. He’s going to try for a second date sometime soon, although the fact that he’ll have to have a bath first is causing some procrastination. Wooo-hooo, SprocketMan!

A neighborly update: this morning, the Door-Slammin’ Family from Outer Space was at it again! I was getting ready for work when I heard slam. slam. slam-slam-slam. slam. slam-slam. Unfortunately, I was midway through inserting my contact lenses and, with one eye 3/4 blind, a lens precariously balanced on my finger and the other eye squinched shut as I tried to unwrinkle the lens already inserted, I was not able to get immediately to a window in order to witness whatever processes require all the door-slammin’. Once I was finally able to see, I rushed to the kitchen for my binoculars (thoughtfully provided by Alan - although I’m not sure he should encourage me...) and headed for the window of the guest room to assess the situation. While this was going on, some slamming continued at sporadic intervals, but not as many or as rapidly as at first. The scene: one car was in its accustomed place, window glass covered in frost, obviously not in use this morning. The other was backing out of the carport and as it headed down the drive, I got a good look. It contained either (a) ONE person - the mom; or (b) the mom and one kidlet, provided said kidlet is so small as to be totally undetectable over the door frame. What can these people possibly DO that requires so much opening and closing of car doors? Say she’s heading for work - she straps a kidlet into the back seat (slam 1), she tosses her coat and purse into the passenger seat (slam 2), she gets in (slam 3). Three slams, but I heard easily thrice that many. Say she has some Christmas gifts to return so she puts those in the trunk (slam 4), forgot something and had to go back for it (slam 5) and forgot to lock the rug rat’s door so she reopened it - that’s still only six. WHAT ARE YOU PEOPLE DOING OVER THERE? TELL ME! TELL ME!

MONTOYA DELENDA EST!