It's amazing what you can get used to. There are scorpions here. And
thick black millipedes as long as my forearm. When we first moved, my
wife and I pulled back the sheets every night to make sure we didn't
have visitors. Now I wonder why we thought we were special. There are
so many places they could be. In the attic with the raccoon. Under the
porch with the baby armadillos. Out in the grass, desperately searching
for water. It was over 100 degrees for sixty days straight this summer.
Looking back, it's gone hazy like the smog hovering over Los Angeles. I
lived there once, too. And I got used to it.
If you want to visit us in Dripping Springs, we are the road
immediately after the driveway with the two yellow reflectors. If you
do decide to stop by, would you mind grabbing the mail?
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Read JD's "My Particular Tumor."
w i g · l e a F