Homeward Bound
Usually it’s sad to call it quits on a vacation, but … not this trip. If we can make it home without being killed or caught, I will gladly call this a successful trip. Currently we’re parked in the Observation Deck of the Albuquirky Airport a mere 3 hours before our flight, that’s how snakebit we felt after missing our plane on the way down. ‘Better early than never’, isn’t that the expression.
Naturally the temperature here today will finally break past the 40’s and hit 60. We’ll get home to freezing rain. That pretty much sums up the trip, at least from a meteorological standpoint, maybe not the fairest metric. After all, we had plenty of sun to balance out the snow, the wind, the freezing temperatures. It is, after all, winter in the Sunbelt too. Or as my man Trump would crow, ‘Where’s your global warming now, Mr. Daddle?’
And so it’s back to politics as usual in a country run by an imbecile surrounded by sycophants admiring his invisible raiment. For over a week down here that was all left behind, no little relief for us moron-weary travelers, a nice respite from talking heads and apparently the start of a very long 2020 election with so many hats thrown into the ring, it makes my modest collection look paltry. And who knows, maybe I’ll change my mind and throw one of mine in too. It’s like a Demolition Derby, whatever jalopy is still moving after countless bashes and wrecks will be declared the ‘winner’ before being hauled off to some wretched salvage yard, its radiator still steaming and engine oil dripping on a red hot muffler.
D.C. seems a world away from New Mexico, at least in the Outback if not Santa Fe and Albuquerque. We have to go home now and check for frozen pipes. Politics has to take a backseat when the living is hard. And for a lot of New Mexico, the living is hard indeed. Hasta la vista.
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Tags: Home is the Hunted Home from the Hill, what I did on my vacation