On visiting family I'm reminded how much the South makes me miss the high desert. For one thing, if you stand still in Florida long enough you will grow mold. I miss Albuquerque weather.
I've avoided arguing politics and religion with this, the Christian Republican, wing of the family. Mostly. But only by storming out of the room everytime somebody starts in on Hillary. I miss my Albuquerque friends.
Huge swaths of vegetation are still being cleared for shopping centers in Florida. There are few obvious signs of real estate market distress, but I don't know the details. And the devil is in the details. Hell, I guess I miss Albuquerque sprawl.
My brother said yesterday, "I see a lot of Mom in you." It made me so distraught that I stormed out of the room again. Which, come to think of it, is a lot like something Mom would do. I guess I miss her too.
I went fishing off the Skyway pier. A big guy next to us hooked a grouper and was reeling him in when the look on his face changed to terror and he started yelling, "Son of a bitch! Flipper's got my fish!" He struggled to hold onto his expensive tackle as the dolphin went under the pier and wrapped the line around a post until it broke free. Later when one got close I made kissy noises and told him he looked like my big dog. I miss my dogs.
Tell them I'm coming home soon.
The dinnertime talk is scary
I'm trying to be wary
But my anger is starting to show
Let it go, let it go, let it go
Well the traffic outside is frightful
and the real estate insightful
But I'm missing home so you know
Let me go, let me go, let me go.