In which my Sunday trapped in Rawlins is turning out to be pretty neat, really.

Standing in the motel’s parking lot, I can see a lot of nothing. Some blacktop roads – the one out front is five lanes and dumps onto I-80, but for all its size is lightly traveled – some businesses of zero interest to me (other motels, new hotels, fast food joints, a Pamida, and a Yamaha dealership), several of them closed on Sunday, large scruffy lawn areas overtaken with scrub, and literal acres of graveled parking lot.

This town looks utterly run down.

I put Bindu’s leash on her and we walked across the 5-lane to the jeep, to see if it was still there. It was, and unmolested. It doesn’t look like it shit the bed yesterday.

I put the dog inside it, and walked over to a grocery store I could see about a quarter of a mile away. It’s quite cold out, and I was struck several times with small, cold, frozen hail.

They had a wonderful salad bar in there! I made myself a huge salad and bought a TV dinner (Amy’s black bean enchilada dinner – yum) because the room has a microwave, and I also picked up a bag of baked buffalo liver dog treats for the blue one because apparently she’s grown bored of her regular food.

This town is small and in the middle of nowhere, but it’s not all white people (although every single white chick I saw was blonde, which is unnatural). I was bundled up against the cold in a fleece, a bulky sweater, a hat, and boots, but the Mexican dudes checked me out anyway. Heh.

I walked back to the jeep, liberated the dog and picked up a half-gallon of water (the tap water here tastes worse than Fairfield’s), and through wind and flurries we returned with our prizes to the motel. In case you were curious, Miss Bindu was stoked about the whole buffalo parts-baked-into-cookies thing.

In other news, I’ve been watching Sci-fi all day. Queen Mab is currently rather pissed off about something.

I just realized we left all the chocolate in the jeep. Perhaps another walk will soon be in order.