I had to do the math. Just to see if it could be true. Because it didn’t seem possible. Didn’t seem like I’ve been here that long.

“… borrow the one … 11 minus 3 … take the square root of 15 … if a train is leaving Austin at 5 o’clock …”
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The college newspaper editor was talking about her story. It’s on a study that found eating healthy isn’t always affordable. She was talking about interviewing other college students about whether this was the case or just an excuse.

Could poor college students on meager budgets add more nutrition to their diets? Nutrition that wasn’t French fries and pizza crust?
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I could have been at a Labor Day party, chowing down on tacos and making underwater movies with my daughter. God bless waterproof cameras.

Instead I’m spending the weekend at a homeless shelter in Hollywood, Florida, drinking sugar with a splash of coffee. Toilet paper is sticking to my shoe, and I’m wondering if the tickle in my throat is MRSA.
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Anyone have a partially-used, fully-functioning, battle-tested hurricane chicken evacuation plan they’re willing to part with? You know … a chicken plan. Like what you do with your chickens should a big blowing tropical behemoth show up on your door step.

Because I’m a bit stumped. And the Thompson motto (borrowed from the Army Rangers) is simple: Never leave a man … or critter … behind.

Damn mottos!

It complicates things. These chickens complicate things! They’re a little over 8 weeks old — long-past the chick stage. Their combs are coming in, and they roam the yard eating bugs and grubs and hamburgers. (Hamburgers grow wild in my backyard.)
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