One-Sentence Journal, Week Twenty-Four

  1. 12/09/2013:  Missoula isn’t exactly the most culturally diverse town in any season, but the standard winter garb homogenizes it even more, one of the few things I dislike about winter.
  2. 12/10/2013:  Typical for this time of year, albeit a month or so late, a flurry of activity on the day job front has me headed to Texas next week, then to Nebraska, Florida, and back to Texas over the first three weeks of January, respectively.
  3. 12/11/2013:  One of those notorious cloud inversions was hanging over Missoula, but viewed from a distance I could see this dark gray ceiling over the mountains to the east, with just enough of a gap to paint their crowns with the bright gold of winter morning.
  4. 12/12/2013:  My morning drive under iron clouds, an unkindness of ravens dancing and flapping around a roadkill deer deep in the ditch paralleling the north side of the road, and a bushy-tailed coyote retreating the scene across the snow-crusted field, laughing glances cast back over his shoulder as he fled.
  5. 12/13/2013:  I went out to the Missoula Children’s Theater tonight with Julia and a pack of lovelies from Betty’s Divine to watch our friend Miranda’s debut as Mrs. Beauregarde in the production of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, the first play I’ve seen in years, after which she autographed my ticket, “Dear Chris, Just Chew It! Love, Miranda.”
  6. 12/14/2013:  Today was one of those Saturdays in which nothing particular of note was accomplished, and I actually feel pretty good about it.
  7. 12/15/2013:  “He wears his wallet chain when he’s at the beach, everything shitty he wants two of each” may be the greatest lyric I will ever sing.


Author: Chris

Chris La Tray is a writer, a walker, and a photographer. He is an enrolled member of the Little Shell Tribe of Chippewa Indians and lives in Missoula, MT.

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