There is nothing quite as satisfying as waking up in the morning, coming downstairs, and not seeing one shred of proof that Christmas ever happened.
I sort of, kind of jest, of course. Despite my loathing of the Christmas season and 97.4% of everything it stands for, I had a damn good holiday, and I have to give a big thanks to Wifey and B for making this holiday perfect by just being their easy-going, lovable selves.
Despite lumbering right on through the holiday season, it’s been great to be back on the trails this week with fewer people around, fewer worries if I have to wiz on the side of the trail, and fewer chances of being forced to say things like, “Oh, hey, I didn’t see you. Sorry, just let me put my penis away.”
More lost gloves.
And now, three days into the 2024 Lumber Through Hell Tour, I have three hikes and 18.71 miles in my feetz. The only downside is that it’s that time of year when picture-taking is lame due to a lack of snow and critters, and a plethora of mud, leafless trees, and dead shit.
I have seen some critters, but so far, none that cooperated enough to get an image; I saw a river otter from a distance as I started on Wednesday, and earlier in the week, I saw what I think was either an owl or hawk take off from a group of tall trees along the trail. And then, of course, closer to home, there is the deer that has been making daily visits to the vast (not really) estate of the Cul-De-Sac-Shack.
River Otter, I think.
Speaking of the Cul-De-Sac, the H.O.A. email list is blowing up about some road repairs in the plan, and a not-all-that-thought-out call to action has been issued for residents to ease road damage by coming together to use a single garbage pickup service thus easing the amount of 10-ton truck on the roads.
Cul-De-Sac-Deer
Wifey and I just sit back and watch the emails, preferring to keep out of it; just tell us where to send the check. However, as I skipped through the emails and saw endless residents chiming in on what they pay and the benefits and costs of their service, I had to use every fiber in my body not to reply, “We use Waste Management; they charge $30 a month, and they will haul away dead bodies at no additional charge, they just ask you break them down and bag them.”
Probably best I didn’t; my humor is “too heady”1 for most, and I get enough hairy eyeballs being known as the guy that carries his dog out to take a shit and overflows his recycling bins every other week with cans of Guinness and Four Giants.
Time to dump out, lace up, and get outside.
Later.