internet is spotty way out here in the country - my wife says we need a new router and if so, all will be well tomorrow. but in the meantime this may or may not make it, we'll see.

i think without question our lucky move to this remote outpost in southeast new mexico saved the lives of all six of us. we are now able to pull our kids out of school and stay holed up, way out at the end of a mountain road - and not go anywhere if we really don't want to. our kids of course are not happy with that, but they get it, when it comes to saving their lives, and they will adjust. it won't be easy. but they will live through the pandemic, if all goes well.

we see around the country, hospitals filling up. our niece in California, an old friend in Lubbock, lots of people have it. Some won't live to tell the tale. But we're thinking, we have to live to tell the tale.

people in this valley don't by and large take it that seriously. our kids' friends' families don't take it as seriously as we do. but everyone, i think, is taking it more seriously. that's because hospitals are full and stores are closed. people have to do what they have to do to keep body and soul together.

a kind of localized storm came up against our ridge and dropped a lot of snow which immediately froze on the roadways. at our own house, we had maybe three inches, which was a lot, and it didn't freeze that badly, but up against the ridge where it gets pretty steep, ice was frozen solid. the odd thing was, it wasn't so bad in the rest of the mountains. it was like we had the only treacherous road. a day or two into it, it was melting a little in the daytime and then freezing again at night, and even now, it's spotty - they've put beet heet on the road, but there are spots that are pretty slick. and cliffs on over half of the road.

the good luck is that, with school out, we don't really have to go in, unless we are ready. and we really no longer want our kids going in. we just don't want them in town. the town had 1, 2, 5, 7, 11, now 17 cases. not exactly exponential growth. but clearly growth, and it's a small town. it's only a matter of time before the kids's friends start knowing people. it has walked into both of their schools. It has hit the family dollar. it's here.

yet at the same time, we stay home more; we have our own world. the four of them entertain each other and that's all they have, besides the four dogs, and two cats which everyone ignores. the dogs are demanding - the new one doesn't want to be left alone - but if that taxes their patience or their time management skills, i'm ok with that, and hopefully there will be a lot of walks going on. as it is i take two of them, but only a short way each time, just up a hill.

tonight i took the little guy and as we got around the corner, a whole herd of deer crossed the road. he was interested and ran toward them, but without barking as he usually does if he's in the house. i like seeing his little ears stand up on end and he gives them his full attention. but he's so small, there's no way he could do more than nip their hooves, and that would be pointless. they seem to know that he's part of our little encampment, and they've learned to go around us. the countryside is filling up, though, i think. even in winter, there are more of us people now than there used to be. even with the hunters gone, the main lonely blacktop through the valley, which i call the main highway, has plenty of activity. no coronavirus, but plenty of trucks.

it's the kind of place where i felt a certain attachment, the minute i saw it. i don't ever want to leave.