I'm going to start the week with a couple of confessions. Insincere ones, just for the record.
First, while you were picturing me waging battle against a fearsome foe in court, I . . . wasn't. No, the case pled out on late afternoon on Monday. Not my decision, but the correct one from my colleague.
So, the sword has been sheathed, it's glinty sharpness remaining . . . glinty and sharp, for another day.
Second, I'm on vacation in New Jersey. Yeah, I know. Got off to a cracking start (excuse the pun) when the aged great-grandmother took a spill on the sidewalk an hour after we arrived and gashed her hand open. We're in Avalon and credit to the first-responders who were on-scene in minutes. But can you guess the first-responders in a seaside town?
First came the police, then the ambulance arrived, and then we heard the distinctive tinkle of the ice cream truck. Seriously, they must have known there were three kids standing around at the accident site.
Anyway, GG (as she's known) went of to hospital and I retired to the veranda to recover with a single malt. This is my youngest guarding the Stella Artois chaser.
And yes, I expect crime to sky rocket in Austin while I'm gone, I really do. I just don't plan to hear anything about it until I get back. I'm trading my sword for a boogie board this week.
And I fully expect to be back here to gloat about it.