The Open Thread For The Evening Of Tuesday

Beckett looks rather insulted when I tell him he has the most boopable of noses. 'How dare you! I'm the big blue brave bodyguard of the Dacha; you said so yourself!' (actually he just dislikes being held - when he chooses to be a lapcat, it's clouds of purrs all around ... when I pick him up and put him there, it's Indignation City). How is everyone else going with a world that refuses to do as they wish?