It's a cat's life

Don't you wish your life was this perfect?

As for the Wednesday photo, no, I did not know the fellow.  No, I did not ask if I could take his photo.  No, he never realized his southern exposure was being memorialized.  I never even saw his face.  I was just in the right place at the right time with the camera in my pocket.

I have been cleaning and baking today.  At last, at last my macarons  are perfect!   See that line of texture between the top and the bottom?  That line means my macaroons have "feet." The egg whites held their fluff and the bubbles expanded in the oven creating a crispy structure to support the almond flour.   This little button of delicacy is about an inch in diameter, and the long slanting rays of the sun make it look a bit more golden than it truly is.  But I am filled with joy at the success of my macarons!!  Happy, happy joy, joy!  
And God  only knows why everything is coming out underlined.  I've tried to fix it, and it thwarts my every effort, making mocking noises and rolling its eyes like a sullen teen.  As I struggle with my urge to throw the laptop across the room, it occurs to me that perhaps it really was a good thing thatI never had children. You throw the laptop across the room and curse it, and people think you're immature.  You throw the smart-mouth fourteen-year-old across the room, and people lock you up with punks, drunks, junkies, and seriously crazy criminals.  Dodged a bullet on that one, Roxie!