Unicorns and Shipwrecks

This morning, my radio woke me up to the Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald. Still can barely understand a word of what he is saying but one day, I will learn the lyrics.

The gales of November have not yet turned gloomy. It's not even cold enough to wear my newly knitted and embroidered mittens.





Also, I didn't think it was possible for a cat to get more cute with each passing moment, but it is so:







We are most recently calling him Kitcat and Kitty and Cutey Poop etc...he is too cute to be tied down with one name.