I always approach the prospect of driving south to Florida to visit the in-laws for Christmas with much moaning and gnashing of teeth. But now that I’m here, I have to admit it could be a lot worse.
This afternoon I watched a rainstorm through the hibiscus and bougainvillea growing around the porch, while sipping whiskey and reading the second edition of the Rails book. Then we had a huge dinner, and I capped off the evening by breaking in one of my gifts, a bottle of Laphroaig.
The neighbors here are very generous with their wi-fi. Whether they know it or not.
All in all, I’m not complaining.
Happy Holidays, everyone.