Creatures of habit

I'm finally dug out from the Christmas blizzard. Drifts shoulder high; blocked front door. I spoke with my next door neighbor, who has lived here since the early 1960's. He said that he's never seen snow drifts like we have today, except for the winter of 1966. We apparently had more snow and less wind than 1966. It kind of makes me wonder; I was born in 1965, in Grand Forks, and the worst blizzard, ever, strikes Grand Forks that winter. I return to live in Grand Forks and the worst blizzard, ever, strikes Grand Forks. It's as though my arrival is heralded by a serious earth event. Is there a hidden messianic message? Probably not. But, to the title of my posting. I have a small bit of ice on my back step. I got the tub-o-salt from the garage for its first use. The first thing I did; unscrewed the top so I could take off the safety seal. You know, all food containers have that safety seal under the lid. After I removed the lid and saw there was no seal, I said "duh". Why would there be a safety seal? It's not like we're going to eat the salt. Talk about a serious creature of habit.

I should have flown

Driving, nice. Driving FOREVER, not so much. I lost my driving chops in the last year. My personal best is 950-ish miles in a day. The last two days I top out at about 715 miles a day. Wednesday was Sacramento, California to Evanston, Wyoming. Today it was Evanston to Grand Island, Nebraska. Tomorrow it needs to be Grand Forks. Rather than try to navigate the interstate hell that is Omaha, I'm turning north from here, taking 281 to Mitchell, then I-20 east to I-29, and then north, again.

One thing I did notice yesterday was an exit in Nevada. There were signs for the "Deeth Starr Valley". Is the Empire trying to disguise its new building area by just misspelling it? Do they think that will throw off the rebels? Where is Luke when you need him?