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Me and my neighbor Renee took another trip to Idaho
Saturday in her nice Ford Ranger truck, which is
almost 12 years old now but nonetheless runs great
and which is in beautiful condition.

Over in Idaho we can get cigarettes for less than
1/2 of what we can here in Spokane, simply because
of state taxes. Neither of us being that flush on
money the savings make a big difference. But our
pursuit of cheap cigarettes has in fact reinforced
a history together that has lasted 13 years.

Our trips together are basically sessions in which
we talk about the various issues in our lives. I
tell her the crap and the good things in my life and
she tells me the crap and good things in her own.

We always take the old highway over to Idaho, the
slow one, the one north of the fast interstate. We
pass by what is essentially a sequence of industrial
areas. Not too great to look at. But with the scenery
as it was Saturday, of distant mountains that kept
snow at the higher elevations, it was nonetheless
a nice drive.

We talked. We bought our cigarettes. We came back
to Spokane.

Once back in Spokane I did a number of drinks at
Sunset Junction and waited for a band that seemed
to never show up; or, once they did show up, never
seemed to start playing.

I went home and cooked up a roast beef and cheese and
onion sandwich. Not long afterward, I went to bed.


Still with some snow in the mountains.


Renee.


We got back to Spokane in time for this
absolutely awesome sunset.


The Sparrows did finally start playing.

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