Tonight On The Salish Sea

The normally turquoise sky is a pretty blue grey.

There is a reason for that anomaly.

It's Spokane.

The sky would be clear if it weren't for the smoke.

Of Spokane.

That began to get here hours ago.

Turns out winds sometimes blow west.

I can't help but wonder whose home in Spokane it is that is supplying the smoke that is making my cocktail hour - well - smoky.

But that sentence "I can't help but wonder whose home in Spokane it is that is supplying the smoke that is making my cocktail hour - well - smoky" has a purpose.

I contrived that sentence for that purpose.

Only a sociopath would say and really mean that sentence.

I know; I know; donnie isn't quotable anywhere saying that.

But he is a sociopath, so, give me some space.

As North America becomes an increasingly inflammable piece of real estate, one must wonder when somebody somewhere in donnieLand is going to shout out some window: "I'm mad as hell and I'm tired of climate change and we need to fix it."

What a fantasy.