I could easily kill an hour on a Sunday morning reading newspapers on the Internet -- used to -- sure don't feel like that now. I just took a quick look at the Los Angeles Times -- absolutely no interest.
Instead I'm reading Ray Bradbury's 1962 fantasy novel, "Something Wicked This Way Comes."
Last night, we camped at Blanco State Park, on the banks of a very nice river. It was a balmy evening with breezes and scarcely any mosquitoes. We slept on the ground. Eva thought it was a little unusual that we didn't have a tent, she kept saying "we're the homeless people."
But, I 've said this before, sleeping out in the air is the best. If it's not raining and if there's no mosquitoes, why pitch a tent?
And if it's raining and there's lots of mosquitoes -- go home.
I don't want anybody to think I'm a fanatic. I like tents, and cabins, and first-class hotels, for that matter. I just think that other people should consider doing this --sleeping out on the ground, cowboy style, or however you want to call it.
In fact, let's thin of a cool new name for it, and then it will catch on.
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