The Day After

What is there is say on the day after Christmas?

Well, although there was no further snow in Portland, the temperature did not rise significantly and so the snow and ice that were already on the street persisted throughout Christmas Day, the upshot being that there was still no Christmas gathering among my son and his mother et al, so I was still not able to talk to him (his own phone plan does not allow long distance calls, you see?). Perhaps later this week.

Now comes New Years, which I never did like anyway, so I’ll do my best to ignore it. It turns out that fireworks have been banned in Bali this year, which is no doubt lamentable for some, but gladdening to me. This probably harkens back to the year when they nearly blew up the entire island, sufficient gunpowder having been marketed to supply an army and air force. The dogs are still telling horror stories about that year. Besides that, with Mount Agung still threatening to fully erupt, we don’t really need any extra fireworks.

I’ve been in considerable pain throughout the day, probably because I decided not to take any Xanax last night. I’d like to get to where I don’t need to take it every night because 1) it’s expensive and 2) it’s probably, over time, not very good for you; but then again, it’s sure not worth having the pain the next day.

It’s fabulously humid in south Bali this evening, with a temperature adjusted for humidity at 34C (or 93 degrees Fahrenheit). So, even though it’s about to rain, everyone is sweating in T-shirts and shorts. This is called tropical paradise. Frankly, I wouldn't mind sticking my feet in that Portland snow for a little while.