Ah, another lovely evening in beautiful North Central Phoenix.
Ruby and I are loafing in the family room. The back door is hanging open to let in the lovely, cool evening air.
…when,..
…suddenly…
ROAAAAAARRRRRRRRR!!!!!
Cop copter shoots over the house like an angry MIG. Chasing a perp, evidently. He roars over, then circles around, a block or two to the north of us.
Jump up: RUN to shut and lock the back door (and its security screen). Fly around the house checking to be sure other doors and windows are closed and locked.
By the time we finish that, whatever is going on has settled down a bit, at least in our immediate precinct. The cop flies away, in due time.
And now Ruby and I are perched, together, on the bed in the master bedroom, having seen to it that all the doors and windows are locked.
What
A
Place
Why do I continue to live here?
Well, mostly because there isn’t anyplace much better to live. Sun City would be quieter (most of the time). But then so is the tomb. My son’s house is not far down the street: wouldn’t take him more than 10 minutes to get here. A police station is just up the road.
Everyplace else in the urban area is about like this. Or worse. Much worse.
I’d say I wish I still had the ranch. But…no. I don’t. Out in the middle of nowhere, ten miles over dirt roads from the nearest town? Don’t think so…
What I do need, though, is a double-aught six. Have been lazy about tracking one down…but think tomorrow maybe I’ll go up to Shooter’s World and see what they have on hand these days.
Enough is freakin’ enough.