Thursday morning, there was ice on the roads, ice on the porch, ice on the roof. Too cold to bother going outside, but I really needed some chips for a home-made frito-pie.
It’s not like Texans are good drivers to begin with, add some frozen precipitation? The freeways must be like a giant “slip and slide.”
Canned chili alone is such a sad state of being.
Day dreams danced in my head, and I had a thought, if I could just release a couple of bass in the Riverwalk section of the San Antonio River, then I could fish there. And, if I was making real money, I could get one of them fancy hotel rooms that overlooks the river, and just fish from the room. How cool would that be?
Must be cabin fever.