Christmas Tree Bust, Book Score.

Carole and I used to drive up to the mountains every year to buy a Christmas tree at a choose and cut tree farm. But we fell out of the tradition a few years ago and don't go every year anymore. We decided to make it two in a row and drove into the high country yesterday to hit some tree farms and find the perfect tree. Alas, all but one of the farms were closed. So we went to that one and discovered to our horror that a five-foot tree would run $60. That's insane and we drove away with no tree.

Instead we hit a couple of thrift stores on the way out of the mountains and stopped at a state park to do a little hiking. The first thrift store we stopped at was a good thing, because I scored a copy of the old poetry magazine The Outsider. Specifically, the double issue limited edition hardback version of 4 & 5, featuring a tribute to Patchen, and work by Bukowski, Rexroth, Ginsberg, and too many others to list. After I've read it I'll likely sell it. It's missing the paper wrapper that originally came with it, plus the pressed flower that was inserted. But other than that it's a decent copy. Not sure how many remain of the original 500 copies, and I sit here and wonder how the hell a copy ended up in a tiny thrift store high in the mountains of North Carolina in a place no one ever heard of.

You take what you can get in life.

The Outsider 4-5. With work by my favorite, Charles Bukowski. Score!

A doe and fawn see us and try to figure out if they should run away.

Yes, run! Wait...no. Yes. No. Maybe...

Little Glade Pond all frozen and frosty on the Blue Ridge Parkway.

A sliding rock cascade on a creek in Stone Mountain State Park.