Saturday night, and everything is quiet. I suppose everyone else in the neighborhood is off to the seven-plex, or the bowling alley, or the dull restaurants or the tatty bars. The more adventurous may be disporting themselves in the metropolitan fleshpots of Chico, and a lucky few may have made their way to San Francisco for a weekend of holiday shopping and STDs. I am here with Sluggo, wandering the virtual world. There's just a bit of self-pity involved in those thoughts.
The afternoon was interesting. Lovely swaths of cirrus clouds, as pleasant as any to be seen in spring, shared the sky with a long line of dark, brooding nimbus which dominated the west. Thus far, the latter have not decided to drop anything on me, but they could. I take solace in the fact that the air, though cold, would have to fall another ten degrees before anything that might be dropped on me could be frozen. Yes, I'm grateful for small favors, and much prefer the self-disposing rain to the cumulative and persistent snow.
Now, unread stuff to catch up on. On which to catch up. Whatever.