And so my family and I will settle into our regular weekend routine here in suburban alcohell -- relaxing, doing laundry, maybe making a trip to the grocery to re-stock our separate pantry. Stuff like that.
In this house that's not our own, the four of us have made our physical home in the chilly comfort of an unfinished basement. It's where we cook and eat, where I work, where the spawns watch TV and play video games and where my wife feels safe. We sleep peacefully in three upstairs bedrooms, our other booze- and dysfunction-free zone, and we remit our share of household utilities to our antagonistic hosts but pay them little attention.
It all must sound odd -- and ok, it is -- but it works for now.
Outside these walls the neighborhood is frozen, up to its pretentious knees in white. When I took the dogs out this morning I saw that another half-inch had fallen since midnight. More is on the way, they say, tomorrow and Monday. Fine by me.
Events in the wider world, as reported from Huntsville and elsewhere, have me wondering if the political undercurrent that threatens our Second Amendment rights might be tempted soon to rise into a wave. Perhaps my wife and I will add a shopping excursion to our Saturday rituals.
It's one trip that we shouldn't postpone any longer.
