We drove today from Columbia, Missouri to Hot Springs Village, stopping for lunch in Branson. Missouri. It was my first trip to Branson and if I am lucky I will not need to stop there again. Though the visit was short and cursory, I saw nothing that would cause me to want to return. Just not mu cup of tea.
We plan another trip soon, either to Las Cruces, New Mexico (and possibly other spots in that state) or back to Fayetteville, Arkansas. In spite of its size and density (and the fact that it’s crawling with students, including football players (and their obscenely overpaid coaches) and woo pig worshippers), the place has some appeal. But so does Port Townsend. Washington, though PT is not nearly as affordable. I would need an extremely wealthy and fabulously generous sugar mama to make my dream come true. My IC, despite her many fine qualities, is missing that one so crucial to the Port Townsend good life: incomprehensible wealth. I suppose we could live there without immeasureable wealth, but the good life and abject poverty do not fit well together.
Once again, thanks to my worthless little piece of bad plasma (or whatever), I am one-finger typing this post. That, my friends, is an abomination to my sense of decency, kindness, and justice.
All right. I will stop. I have so much more to say, but your eyes should be shielded from the worst of it.