The heat is not working in the office today and I feel like Bob Cratchit. My hands are cold and I am thinking about cutting the tips of my glove fingers off to be a able to warm my hands and still do my work. I am huddled by a space heater working on reviewing self-studies and making travel arraignments. All I need is a waist coat and a bottle of ink and I could be in the mid-19th century.
Just think I was in New Orleans two days ago in 70 degree weather eating "King Cake." I got the piece with the baby in it both times I eat a piece. I now owe them two cakes.
Got a tour of New Orleans it still looks like they got coal in their stocking this year.
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