An American in Provence

December 31st was the day of a football game in Denver, so mom did not want to go through that to get back home, so we decided to go up to Boulder for a few hours before heading back home. It was only a few miles away, and it was where she went to college so we went. (Gregg and Jill had in the meantime rented a car, so we were able to take two cars there).
(<-- Alpha Phiers) We went to Boulder and walked around the town, ate yet again, a grand total of an hour and a half I think after the huge brunch buffet at which we were all stuffed. Then we drove up into Boulder Canyon a bit before returning to Boulder and stopping again, this time for ice cream. Jeez, one would think that all we do is eat.
(Rudy fascinated by the pizza making process and playing with a hunk of dough --->)
We then drove back home. We had great difficulties staying up until midnight, with about half of the party crashing out with a feeble instruction of "Wake me before midnight". So we did, watched the Times Square celebration and the fireworks shot off the top of Pikes Peak, and said goodnight about fifteen minutes after midnight. New Years has never been a really favorite holiday of mine. It seems so arbitrary to me. Why is that date and hour the start of a New Year? Oh well. In French, everyone sends cards for New Years, not Christmas cards.