Footie cat likes to sleep so close to the fire that I keep moving him, in case he sets fire to his whiskers. Rosie and Brythen are holding paws.
Meanwhile, Henning cat is lurking darkly in the corner of the room, muttering into his whiskers about how it's all just sickening.
I think I've given up on reviews of the year and resolutions. My year was a curate's egg, and I think I wrote many of the good bits in this journal anyway, and always forget my resolutions, so there's no point making them. (Watch me now forget I resolved that. In fact, I shall tag this resolutions so that if I make resolutions next year, I can click on the tag and laugh at January-me.