Cotton Gin Blossoms

I have a place to live in Houston. A place that is not a hotel. A place where my cats won't bite me every 2 minutes because they have explored every inch of the hotel room and there isn't anything new to sniff or claw at.

I drove to New Mexico last week to pick up some of my belongings, returning Monday. Monday was the day that Texas decided to get all weather-y and drop down to the 30's, threaten ice and drizzle all day long. Except for Houston. Of course, damn you, Houston.

I am now living on the 3rd floor. I am sure once I am moved in and have buns of steel, this will not bother me. However, going up 2 flights of stairs with a truckload of stupid knick knacks and a few boxes of pots and pans, sucks. Of course, I was miserable loading the truck in Almost West Texas, 30 degrees, drizzle, freaking way too cold for my delicate soul. Then, 10 hours later, I am sweating my ass off from just lowering the tailgate. Houston was 75 degrees, 200% percent humidity. I have lived in Texas long enough. I should expect this.

I really wanted to take some photos for you, folks. Of cotton picking season, which I have no idea why it fascinates me so. It is so damn involved, lots of different steps, lots of stages, field after field of cotton, all in various stages of de-linting. I wanted to take photos of the 80 mph signs in Far West Texas, because I had no idea any place in the U.S. allowed such a speed. I could go 90 and not fear the po-po. What an awesome thing. I wanted to take a photo of the exit for Allison Road because I heart the Gin Blossoms. I wanted to take a photo of Buc-ee's sign that says something about never seeing a beaver before. And that the Beaver Has Gas.

I couldn't take these photos because with this weird ass cold front that headed across the state the day I decided to move this year, it was foggy. Extremely foggy, extremely drizzly, extremely crappy weather to drive 10 hours in.

So my plans went to shit. Not that that is new. My plans for the last couple of months have gone to shit. Who would have guessed that for the foreseeable future, instead of my own bed, instead of a hotel bed, I would be sleeping on an air mattress? Who would have guessed this is how December would turn out or how 2007 would end.

{Insert words of wisdom and learning how strong you are and how you can make a bad ass meatloaf here.}