The weather gods conspired and sent freezing rain on Thanksgiving afternoon, lasting through most of the night and restarting this morning as I write this. The temperature plummeted, and my forty-minute drive home from my son’s house yesterday evening included a couple of hydro-planing incidents on the highway.
So we made the decision not to go to Roundrock today, our traditional visit to avoid being yet another casualty of our crass consumer culture. I think we could make it to our woods, but our time there would be miserable — freezing and wet, with sodden fire wood and only the close four walls of the cabin for shelter — but I’m not up for that kind of challenge today. Even so, we intend to stay out of the mall and the shops (though bagels for breakfast sound appealing). Normally, I might have tried to get a run in when an opportunity like this came along, but I don’t trust the pavement or being skimpily dressed, far from home, and reliant only on myself. (Plus I’m still nursing a sore hamstring from the marathon more than a month ago, so I need to take it easy.)
The good news is that the storm that has inundated faraway suburbia has also been hovering over Roundrock. My hope is that the lake is getting a nice recharge, giving the fish in it more depth for finding the warmer water and surviving over the winter.