The Rain Falls Mainly On The Plain

In to each life a little rain must fall. Even when one goes out to tilt at windmills. We ran on coffee and gasoline, the first often tasting like the second. I hope that fate doesn’t toss a monkey wrench at us. I hate it when nature gangs up on you like that. We listened to an Edward Abbey audiobook: “There are some places so beautiful they can make a grown man break down and weep.” The day started off cool, but with an eventual promise of warmth, but that promise was for naught, because the day ended up colder than it had begun. We will press on regardless, weather or not.