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Horseing Around

A horse!  A horse!  My kingdom for a horse!

Actually, that would not be a bad trade, unless you owned the horse.

I loved that horse, who occasionally went for a level walk with a couple of female drivers, and whomever would pay the fare.  But best, every time he came back to the carriage stand, he put both front hooves up on the sidewalk, and looked around to see if anybody noticed how smart he was.  I felt I owed him a stare.


Our hotel--the most expensive one we stayed in on our whole trip (for one night, because it was the most expensive one we stayed in on our whole trip) was not the best one:  that was a fine motel in Missoula--was the Royal Something, probably named after Something royal; something like "The Royal Hotel".  It  was not regal, but then we did not ask for one of the $560. rooms.  We were on the middle (class) floor, and even at that, a station or two above our place. 

Even so, a little mustiness, combined with a little dowdiness, is tonic for a pickup driver. 
The worst motel, should you wonder, was in a small town in North Dakota, in the midst of oil shale country, carefully chosen because it was the only one we could find that was not full.  It as clean, hopeless, and populated with people from everywhere else who worked squeezing oil from rocks.  We were glad to find it.

I have been thinking about wind and solar energy ever since.

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