San Carlos is under 8 feet of snow right now.
The banditos stole all the cervesas and booza.
The only thing they can do is drink the water and race each other for the bathroom.
It's really a shame.
I'm afraid to tell them how much fun I'm having in Las Cruces, NM.
Today I went to the Walmart.
Again.
I think that was the third time in two weeks. <g>
It's better than the season pass at Disney...
Jus kiddin'. Trying to make Polvie and Rosie feel good...
I actually had a very nice lunch today at a very nice Italian restaurant in
El Paso with Wifey's grandmother.
The food was great.
The shrimp was the best I remember having tasted. The calimari and
clams were delightful, as well.
Who would have thought that I'd find such fresh and perfectly cooked
seafood so far from the ocean.
We are packing up tonight and heading back home tomorrow.
It should be a long day of travelling.
We get home somewhere near midnight.
I can't wait to breath that sub zero wind rushing to greet my face.
My frozen into ice blocks, car seat should feel nice against my narrow
airline seat shaped buttocks.
I've been spoiled by the mid day desert warmth.
The slight sun burn on my face should easily be erased by the arctic draft
coming in my bedroom window as I try to readjust my sleeping pattern to
the two hour jet lag.
At least I have the weekend to recover from vacation and do all the things
I've been dreaming of doing at home for the past 3-4 days.
My poor birds outside haven't had any seed since I left.
The squirrel has probably thrown a rock through my rear window due to his
unexpected unplanned hunger strike.
The mice living in my garage are probably wondering where the fresh cheese
and peanut butter is that I usually reload onto the traps that I continually reset
after they miraculously clean the trigger without setting off the business end
of the coiled spring.
Our 16 year old puppy dog is waiting for her parole hearing at the local vet
hoping that her good behavior will set herself free from the 4x4 cage she's
probably sitting in as the evil prison guard fat cat bangs her feline night stick
against the bars right in front of the convicts' long faces.
The more I type this crap, the more I continue to miss home sweet home.
I can't wait to lay back in my comfy couch.
To hear the creek of my hardwood steps. Third and fourth ones from the top
make the loudest noise.
To look out my bathroom window as I relieve myself, seeing the trees, the
shed, the raised dirt patch where my vegetable garden had been, and seeing
off into the distance the hills that make up part of the Hudson Valley.
I miss my satellite dish with all 200 channels of nothing, including east and
west coast network feeds.
I miss my computer desk chair.
The small swivel chair that I'm sitting in now does not do my comfy, worn in,
perfectly pitched, reclining, two armed work of art that came from Finland,
Sweden, China, or where ever Office Depot or Ikea gets their crap from.
It fits my arse just right and enables me to waste more time than any
other seat that I know.
It won't be long.
Just around 30 more hours.
This vacation was successful.
I'm eager to return and get started again.
To begin the new year.
Bring on 2002.
I'm ready.
-Clappy |
