Braver than me
Well, now, that sounds scary: one of my siblings is on vacation in Florida. I can’t wrap my head around wanting to miss winter, particularly with a trip to places I cannot see, and a higher than secure incidence of a dangerous virus. I’ve been told not to think of it as deadly, until I am actually dead.
Somehow, wandering around in a foreign airport, on a forced schedule to find the right gate is beyond my point of interest. That is, I am not interested. Even if the plane tickets were free and I could have a big party. Sounds like a paradise, for fools. And I am not a fool. I believe.
Right now, I just want to get to next month. By then, any need to travel beyond the limits of my own land should have passed. Not that I want to do “fun travel” in February, either. That’s me. If you go, send a postcard, and I’ll wait for your home movies. Is that still something that people do, or has the movie making been relegated to Hollywood?
There are “storm chips” in the pantry. Does it count, once the storms are over? Something else to ponder during these strange times.
Here in the house, we’re content that the lights are back. When my alarms (multiple UPS klaxons) started up today before dawn, I wasn’t overjoyed. Not exactly a false alarm. More of a bump, as the utilities get their footing after several long, icy evenings. I may not get the opportunity to say thanks in person, but they might wander through these posts. Believe me, I believe in you. And your ability to conquer elemental forces. You can put that on your tee.
Now, where was I? Pretty much where I’ve been for the last couple of years. With potato chips. I am spoiled rotten, as my parents used to say. After all, I never had to refill a Kemac Burner tank, in the dark. Or pump a pail of water (actually, I did, but not as a daily penance). And my kids will have their own version of “how tough it was to be a kid”. Again, I’ll wait for the home movies.
