Before the eclipse, the group I was going to see it with and I were debating the weather–and alternate plans–and exactly how far into the line of totality places were. The weather was… not bad, for a random Monday, but pretty sketchy for watching an eclipse. So, staying was a gamble, and so was going.
On my way home from work, yesterday, I passed a man selling eclipse T-shirts. He must have had a lot of them, judging from the horse trailer he’d dragged them in in, and I’ve seen him around town before. I stopped to talk, mostly because I was passing within ten feet of him anyway, and
I am not going in to work on the day of the eclipse. I really can’t see giving up a once-in-a-lifetime experience for a job I think about quitting on a daily basis. It’s not a great job, and it’s not an important job. I’m not walking out of an emergency room mid-bowel resection, or
In a couple of weeks, we are having an eclipse. A full, stars come out in the daytime, drama queen of an eclipse, and we’ve been advised to prepare for it the way we’d prepare for a blizzard. Well, in a stock-up on groceries and other necessaries kind of way, not necessarily a haul out
I live in a historic town. You can tell by the road signs and billboards, and by the fact that here and there, you have a building that is more than a hundred fifty years old. It’s not a particularly exciting history. And honestly, it’s not that much different than the history that the other