# Chapter 143

Back in the Deep South at Christmas time, always strange unique and wonderful. Wonderful to see the parental and hang out with him, alleviate his loneliness and aloneness. To see him light up and enjoy our time together. To eat his home baked goodies and and share meals with him. Working on projects with him, seeing progress happen. Bragging on the work he did while I was away for the last three weeks. Our coronavirus project that we have been working for the last nine months, is taking shape quite nicely, and I am calling it the “kitchen sink” truck, since we have parts from at least four different vehicles in it so far! The wonderful.

The strange are the obsessions with guns and dogs and trump down here. I don’t get the allure of a single one of those, not a single one. The neighbors down here spend thousands of dollars weekly firing off their guns, but they then claim they can’t pay their bills, can’t save money, can’t feed their children, blah blah blah. And the other neighbors have so many dogs that bark so constantly the din is nerve-racking and discombulating and we live a mile way! That man’s dog pens are right next to his house! But not just him, there are dogs barking constantly from every direction.

Unique because we can have a beautiful almost warm day like yesterday, and a near snow day like tomorrow. The weather is an erratic aberration down here in the winter, you can either hate it or enjoy the warm ones! Ah its good to be home for Christmas.