The kids and their kids treated me to a fine Christmas celebration over on the river. The weather for the 340-mile drive home wasn't nearly so accommodating, but at least it was diverse, beginning with rain, then fog, then sleet, then snow. Sort of a mishmash including the worst of everything. (Think Obamacare, here.)
So the trip took a little longer than usual, but the real shocker came when I opened the living room door. It felt chilly. A thermometer check revealed 31 degrees. Some dumdum had set the thermostat on the new electric heater a little too low. The good news is that the water didn't freeze, and that's a big bullet dodged. An armload of dry oak soon produced a comfy 75.
A standout gift came from a lad named Ryan who wrapped a surplus ammo can for me. As one of the revelers said, "He knows his grandpa." I was touched and promised the boy I would use it only for .45ACP, never desecrating it with a less noble caliber.
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Onward and upward tin 2011. May you thrive. May we all survive to heap another year of scorn on the statists of the right and the statists of the left.
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