Cold beverages on a chilly night

The three of us traipsed off last evening to a cafe specializing in New Mexican cuisine, but we weren't there for the comidas. A round of margaritas, the best this town has to offer, and we engaged in a detailed discussion of severe weather and its origins and manifestations. Beloved son has become fascinated with meteorology lately, and offered a discourse on tornadoes. We walked back home through the dark drizzly woods, where vague shapes of rabbits fled before us and crazy guys jockeyed their vehicles in the parking lot, preparing for anonymous gay assignations. Crazy, because they're playing Russian roulette with their health. This phenomenon has been going on for years in Woodland Park, with varying degrees of cessation, but I haven't seen much police presence lately, so once again the mute forms are out there, waiting for fellow risk-seekers. Frightening and pathetic.
Finally got in some climbing, even if it was just at the indoor gym. A friend and I spent a couple of hours getting reaquainted with climbing movement and techniques on pretty easy routes, and I feel so much happier and physically tuned up.
Too tired to stay up and form the bread dough; it'll have to bake in the morning.