Last week I was out at 3am, in our car, charging Olive's phone for the next day. The neighborhood was blacked out like we were hiding from U-boats. Nobody around. The radio was depressing. Too many horror stories: Lots of iced-up tree limbs crashing down like the dinosaur sized one that fell across the street. I turned it off and then all I could hear was strong wind and trees swaying occasionally, releasing cascades of frozen fun. I opened the sun roof and instantly became an expert at trigonometry. Giant limb above me... chance of surviving TKO... remote. Fortunately "killed by tree" is in my prescribed suitable deaths that I will allow myself. It's up there with "gallant deed," "devoured by sharks/hyena/crocodiles," "death by orgasm" and/or "accidentally shot into space."
I'm in the gravy mode of life. I can step off any time but I do want to at least live long enough to attend my kids' kid's second dog's funeral.
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