Who Knows

Look at the words. Wittgenstein was correct. Language is a tricky game. Words carry weight, and don't get me started on the spaces. How we parse. Feels good, to have used my body today. I made a huge dinner of potatoes, bacon, eggs, and toast; read a couple of things, finished a post. I'll be cut off, probably for a few days, the conditions are perfect for a massive ice storm; and the infra-structure, out here in the county, leaves a lot to be desired. The last couple of miles, coming in on Mackletree, are a joke. Chip and seal pavement over a dirt bed. It's completely ripped apart. Like driving through a field of boulders. I'm fine, my infra-structure. Five in the morning, it starts to rain and the temperature is falling, I'll be able to watch most of this next weather event in daylight. It usually happens at night and you wake up surprised. The Jeep is at the bottom of the hill. I have plenty of food, whiskey, and tobacco. I have a lot to think about, and several unread books. See you on the other side. Has a odd ring to it. The other side. Assumes you'll survive. My fall-back position is that I build an igloo, and heat with a seal-oil lamp. I'd better go.