Yesterday The Husband and I were the laziest two people on the planet.  I fixed myself a nest on the couch and read all day.  He did a lot of recliner surfing.  If we hadn't had left-over sausage balls and pecan pie, we'd have starved, I reckon.

I got a new pair of comfy warm house pants for Christmas - you know, the kind you wear to Walmart - and slept in them that night and stayed in them most of yesterday.  Around noon, I got up and moved to the porch (it's still 70+ degrees here).  My knee brace (a story for another day) slipped as I walked, so when I sat down, I propped my foot on a nearby chair and pulled up my britches leg to adjust the brace.  

And my leg was about the weirdest-looking thing I ever saw.  It gave off an ethereal glow in the noonday light.  

Fur - a LOT of it - from the inside of the house pants was trapped in my leg hair.  Felted in it, you might say.

Shameful.  What if there's a wreck?

I took care of it.  I should be good until spring.  

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The book I read yesterday is #5 of Clayton Lindermuth's "Baer Creighton" series.  Baer is a badass, but you can't help but like him.  

Started #6 when I went to bed last night.  There's one more book in the series after this one.  When I'm done with these, I'll start reading a biography of Napoleon.  It probably won't be nearly as much fun as the Baer books.

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I'm off from work for the whole week.  Don't know what I'm going to do with this time.  My BFF may visit for a few days, or she may not.  We'll see.  My embroidery machine needs servicing, but I'd sooner take a beating as drive to town.  I could work on the owl painting I started a month ago, but . . . nah, I ain't feelin' it today.