Save your beads, boys. Ain’t nobody pulling off their tops today.
February almost always looks better somewhere else.
In February 2014 I fled Bibleburg for Albuquerque. In 2016, I traded Albuquerque for Fountain Hills.
And this year?
Well, shit. I appear to be sheltering in place, like everybody else.
Well, maybe not everybody else.
At stupid-thirty I looked outside and noted that our neighbor to the west had laid down some tire tracks in the snow that fell overnight. It kept falling, and after sunrise, the neighbor to the east laid down a matching set on the other side of the cul-de-sac.
They both have jobs and munchkins to manage. Me, not so much. I don’t have to be anywhere, and so I’m not going there.
• Lone Star Update: In Texas Monthly Mimi Swartz feels her hurricane reflexes kick in as the power grid is pushed to the limit.
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