Our last Benicia day began as usual befogged,

Interstate 80 clogged

with traffic

out for last-minute Christmas shopportuniies, putting Sacramento an extra forty minutes away

but once that was negotiated there was this slammed dually Suburban powering up the hill into Auburn…Despite the Christmasers and the Weekenders [Damn, but it’s Gone Strange here

in Amerka* these days] things subsequently moved happily, traffic dense but swift all the way to Reno and so dry the windshield never needed cleaning, not even in Wadsworth where the C-Store clerk found the concept that my two gallons of washer fluid would be illegal in California too alien and stupid to contemplate.    After Nixon 447 became utterly unpopulated –

low skies, Gerlach at three nearly deserted and except for one nitwit on the gravel

who seemed to think that towing an ATV exempted him from moving over for oncoming traffic

we saw no one all the way to the gate.

Sunday, snow day, with Eau d’ Deerpiss to Aggie’s delight, was as L. said, the White Before

Christmas

then darkness all day as the snow went away.

Nice to have a house and a fire in the increasing wet and

although the next day the stovepipe [not shown] fell apart, it wasn’t so cold as to

be more than an inconvenience…besides, there was Herr Ron and the house

wherein to have ourselfs a Muddy Little Christmas…Eve  While trains held across the desert at

Phil Siding [nervous about the water, we figured] we enjoyed cava, scallops and the silent

night; all was calm.

The next day was sunny with a wicked wind out of the north to keep things

interesting.  Bright, beautiful and colder than it might look…

so, so it went until

Christmas 2018 finished.

poof.

*Having to do with The News, not to mention The Twit’s Tweets, none of which will I attempt to address here. Y’argh.