hey jud

April in Paris - I've started singing that as often as possible throughout the day, at least when no one is around to hear me. There's been ample time for anticipation of my trip, but the days are counting down fast now with just a week to go. I'm narrowing down my choices from all the Paris info I've collected over the years, limiting the books to paperback only, and choosing the perfect wardrobe a la the Parisian Woman's Guide to Style, a gift from Meg. But getting everything into the suitcase is just the beginning. The real challenge will be getting it up to the 6th floor walkup.

Although last weekend's get together was really a birthday party for my niece Stef and mother-in-law, a traditional Hourihan celebration always includes as many events as possible. So here's a picture of me getting ready to enjoy my special bon voyage cake. And also a nice shot of Stef and her friend, Andrew.

So maybe you're wondering why this is called 'heyjud'? Well it's short for 'hey judy' which is what Jody, my tech support friend, used to call from her cubicle over to mine. And you probably already guessed that I'd answer her with 'heyjod'. Then on top of that there's the connection to the Beatles song, indicating something about my generation, and provoking a duality of melancholy and inspiration in me. In fact I'm listening to it now ('it's a fool who plays it cool by making his world a little colder') and trying not to get too sappy. Not that I'm alone in this, but music has always had an amazing power to move me.

What's this running up our stairs?

Why, the Willow Memorial Cat of course. This cat's been all over the house, but there are no worries about hairballs being coughed up or those pesky allergies flaring up. Thanks to a realistic-looking cardboard cutout, it's all the memories and none of the fuss. As you can see, I'm practicing with my new digital camera so I'll be ready to document everything on my sabbatical. Only a couple of days to go now.

Packing, packing, packing - it's just a couple of hours now till takeoff. Everything is squeezed into the suitcase, goodbye phone calls have been made and there's just the last, and hardest, goodbye left. I want Paris time between now and mid-May to go slowly and leisurely and sabbatically, but I want Boston time to go super fast until Peter arrives for the last three weeks of May.