Six below zero this morning. If you left it outside, it’s dead or broken. More snow yesterday, powder this time, so you can sweep it with a broom. The dirt road is never plowed because I won’t make a “political contribution.” It’s been this way for over ten years. Meanwhile the main thoroughfare in Taos is a third world disgrace, cratered with tire-eating holes. (What am I saying? They probably have better streets in Tegucigalpa.) I’m no longer trying to escape, but whenever I venture out, I wonder who’s insane. Did you know “blue-haired Texans” is a phrase here? More Comanches, por favor. Wearing deprivation like a skin. Damn, the winter is hard, and this one’s barely started. There must be something I can do.
Got invited to join a hot-shot invitation-only social network a few weeks ago. Said yes, of course. The founder likes my writing. I downloaded the app, scored the invite code, and never signed in. May yet, though. They say the secret of life is showing up, but I’m not sure. Maybe you have to enter the code in that great web form in the sky. Who has time for social networks? I have lots of time but act less social every year. This is not a happy trend. Be careful what you ask for, maybe it’s already here and God thinks you meant something else.
All is possible with love. (At least I think so.) She whose smiles mean everything to me awaits my melting in the sun.