(Trey Ratcliff)
Well, I slept... a few more hours anyway. A little bit past the sunrise, a rare treat. Now, I can't decide if I want to go get breakfast at a restaurant or make some here. I am leaning towards the former of the two options. I have nothing to do today, but will pick up the boy in mid-afternoon and make something out of what remains. A local baseball game, maybe. The Sonoma Stompers.
I should do something to prepare for Burning Man. I need to find out how much a trailer hitch costs and a trailer rental for a week. The car is too small and there are too many passengers now. Last year it barely accommodated myself alone with the supplies I was bringing in. It looks as if two others will be driving in with me now from Reno. A real caravan.
My friend and I were discussing the newness of "Burning Man Parking Passes" and found out that they were only used for the first time last year. See everybody? Burning Man has changed... as if those of a certain age group needed any more affirmation. The claim is as tiresome as its makers.
Okay, before I let the day pass me by here lying in bed, something else must also change. There is coffee to be had, some sort of breakfast food to be eaten, trailer hitches to be negotiated, money exchanged for goods and services. The movement moves inward.
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