happily ensconced in my daughter's yard, free from the vicissitudes of finding a place to park in the winter.
It's been a quiet Sunday in Denver, I would imagine there's a lot of people on the roads returning home from the mountains, but I'm peacefully settled into my daughter's yard with no desire to compete with the thundering herd for a few square yards of asphalt. And being very thankful for the ability to visit the mountains when everyone else is at work.
Tomorrow or the next day I will take my truck someplace to get it's emissions tested and hopefully be given the go-ahead to renew my tag for another year. I can't believe something as simple as renewing an auto tag has become such a thorn in my side and a major impediment to my sense of freedom and lack of worry. Leave it to the government to find ways to place roadblocks in the road to happiness that affects even us retired geezers.
I'm having a heated debate with myself as to whether or not I should put more guns for sale on Gunbroker. The hard-working ambitious part of my brain, which largely consists of seven or eight brain cells and some plankton, says that selling more of my guns right now will give me less to worry about in the future, accrue a little extra spending money, make it less likely somebody wants to rob me, will enable me to cruise through border checkpoints without wetting my pants, and lighten the load in the Arctic Fox. But the vast majority of my brain argues, "screw it, sellum next year".... And I find it hard to ignore the logic of that.