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Here we are again....in the dark tapping away on the keyboard like there's no shopping to be done! It will be a point and click kind of Christmas with shots from the previous year carefully framed if I get my act together before New Year's. If not, Santa will be do his thing and all the children will get wired over receiving things their parents can't really afford. We did that for a lot of years...until the bottom fell out and the plastic people wanted their money. There is a local bank that I shall not name which still lists me as ass deep in debt to them over a credit card that was charged off in a BK. Lots of interest accrued over those fifteen years, ya'll. Great way to treat your locals.

The media focus here has changed from where is she to who done it. Karen Swift's body was dumped in a kudzu pile adjacent to an old family cemetery. We are small town folks around here, and it's startling when the randomness of crazy begins to seep into the 'burg. We've got enough of the homegrown kind! Meth is the drug of choice for most of the under and unemployed therefore we have to sign in with the state to buy real Sudafed. Trust me..a house will go up in flames in a hurry when you're cooking that shit. Trailers too. It eats the enamel off of users' teeth and causes them to pick at their skin constantly. Cleaning up a meth lab fire is costly and highly regulated turning into a big problem for landlords who don't know what's going on in their rentals. And just think, now the poor cancer patients in California will have to buy their cannabis from a street dealer. Shame on you justice department...I feel so safe.

My favorite place to drop in for free air is at the service station downtown next to the building I was born in, right across from the Methodist church. Daddy's office was in the basement when he worked for the USDA, before he hit the road. Every time I pull into that dark parking lot, I think about Ray and how he was murdered in cold blood by someone he was trying to help on a Sunday morning. Turned out the guy was on a rampage across several states and he was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. At his own business. I remember walking out from church that day and noticing police tape...sure that it was nothing more than a broken hydrant or something. Only later did I find out that Mr. Patterson died on the concrete as we sang hymns next door.

There are bills to be paid and floors to be mopped because it's Christmas and the house must be decent, if not spotless. Pride's fence is hot again so we won't have to be herding him into the lot for awhile. I watched through the window yesterday as my brother patiently fenced him in as dark fell, just like Daddy did for so many years. It was a bittersweet moment as I watched the familiar scene being placed within my view only with a different farmer. Gawd...I love the country!!!!!

^j^