had a big fight tonight about whether teens could go to town on a friday night, and they won; i took them; they stayed, both in sleepovers. sleepovers we consider to be very high risk. the good news is that both are with friends who are already in our so-called bubble, and the one who has extra friends actually had them tested. seems like everyone who is involved, is clear.

nevertheless, what an ordeal. we are well aware that they are not really keeping their words about masks, distancing, etc. it doesn't seem like you can ask teens to do that. we consider ourselves lucky to be in a tiny town where we basically know everyone and, if they've been clear this long, hopefully they will stay clear. the town is 87,000 feet - lots of fresh air, and thin oxygen. when we go to town we have to go up to 87,000 from where we are (~73,000), then back down over ridge to about 76,000 again, and then up into the town. lots of deer out there.

tonight after deciding to leave them there, i drove home slowly. a big moon was out; few clouds, a wide open valley. my cousin says i'm blessed to be out here in the mountains, and she's right - there are so few people, if covid comes around it'll be pretty obvious. we did have a case or two but it seems like they pounced on them and most of the people - it's the kids i'm worried about of course - are clear.

up over the ridge, which has a rather steep gravel road, people bring big motor homes, most with texas plates. it was friday night. leaving texas, i'm sure they felt like i did when i left, that these mountains, with their thin air and all, are paradise. lots of stars out, and the fields all green with the yellow flowers just coming out. the aspens have the white trunks, and bright colors - but the best thing is the temps - it's moderate all hte time. cool in the day, cool in the night - winter's tough, but they'll be long gone by then.

coming down over the ridge you watch out for little ground squirrels that cross the road. i try not to hit them. it ight be harder, lugging a motor home, but then i would be riding the brake anyway. there are cows around, and they are used to being wild, in the road, wherever they want, taking up the lush grasses. they're the ones who give you the feeling it's paradise. of course, i'm sure they will someday become hamburger, and maybe they know that, but in the meantime they are living a great life.

maybe i should revise my outlook. at one point tonight, i yelled, "i don't want to die!" i especially don't want to drive my teenage children to a place where they could pick up the covid. but with a changed outlook i could be thinking: i am where i want to be. the grass is green and beautiful. if the covid comes way out here to get me, then i guess it's just my time to go.

now late at night, the puppy is on my lap. the moon is finally behind a tree - it's been right above me all night. i'm out on the porch. i can never distinguish night sounds from what i hear in my ears anyway. it's ok - puppy and me are ok with the world.