I’d offer up a list of the reasons why you’re hearing from me about as often as you hear from your college-aged kids (“Dear Mom & Dad: Please send money. Ignore letter from court. Arresting officer actually pretty cool. Talk next month after spring break. Thanks.”), but since you’re not going to send money, really, what’s the point?
I can say this. We’ve “experienced” approximately four feet of snow since Thursday — the kind of numbers that strike fear in the heart of even the mighty Honda snowblower (not to mention the cold, aching, staggering fool running it).
That amounts to hours of Quality Snow Removal Time (four hours on Friday alone), though between the warm storms of last month and the debilitating (if you’re me) snowstorm of last week, we can safely say California’s water year is off to a good start.
My back, not so much.
On the other hand, it’s gorgeous up here. A White Christmas with two kids, one of whom has never seen snow (she’s already learned the joys of dumping snow down daddy’s neck when he’s not looking).
I’m trying to tie up a few loose ends on the work front while leaving enough time to actually have a holidays.
That’s how it works these days; I’ve got my head down trying to get things done, and I look up and discover it’s the day before Christmas.
A new client wants me to replicate another client’s success while an honest look at an old client reminds me — at this stage of my career — I have zero interest in filling the role of low-level online laborer.
OK, so I’m swerving perilously close to offering up that list of excuses I said I wasn’t going to print, so I’ll stop here and wish everyone a Merry Christmas and a Happy Holidays from the Trout Underground and family.
More to come. I’ll write again after spring break.
See you enjoying a white Christmas, Tom Chandler.