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Our Brains Are Narrative Factories

We woke to a very snowy Sunday. My son exclaimed, “not again!” But it’s only early February. We have a long road ahead of us, no matter what the groundhog declared. This is Minnesota, after all. We do try to make the best of it. There are a variety of “embrace winter” type festivities every year but most have already happened. Everyone’s enthusiasm is petering out. Now it’s just the long stretch until Spring. And we haven’t got any immediate travel plans to break things up. Time to turn to escapism. We drove out to the burbs to hang out with some of my fellow Strange Girls at a unique maker’s fair. Then we saw some lovely anime at the theater, with a very different weather vibe than what we’re experiencing here. We closed things out with dinner at Khan’s Mongolian BBQ. It’s kind of a ridiculous place. Buffets, in general, are wasted on me. But we filled up on tofu and vegetables and banged that gong.

Finding the beauty in winter filth. This sort of looks like a cracked geode.

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