Wheat,
Oh Wheat
You’re so much more than just a treat.
You are the core of all I eat.
I wrap bread ‘round a piece of meat,
Or bake a chocolate cake—so sweet.
You make my dining life complete,
Oh Wheat (more…)
Wheat,
Oh Wheat
You’re so much more than just a treat.
You are the core of all I eat.
I wrap bread ‘round a piece of meat,
Or bake a chocolate cake—so sweet.
You make my dining life complete,
Oh Wheat (more…)
I like food.
Really, I’m a big fan. I like meat, and potatoes, and rice, and veggies (for the most part), and fruit, and bread, and grease, and ooey gooey yummy sticky chocolaty stuff.
Mexican food? Oh, yeah. Italian? Chinese? Bring it on. Sausages full of secrets from around the world—and around the pig? Make it so, brother.
I’m not a sushi fan—I’ll admit to that. Squid is a “No,” as is any sort of snailish creature. And once when I was in China I was served a soup with both halves of a very dead pigeon bobbing in it—seriously creeped me out. (more…)
Why do I do what I do when I do what I do?
I like that… sounds kinda catchy.
Yesterday morning, I got up an hour early so that I could write a post. I have been really sketchy in my posting over the last few weeks, what with getting the Easter book done and all.
What? You don’t know about the Easter book? Where have you been, Man?
To continue…
Yesterday morning, I got up an hour early so that I could write a post. I have been really sketchy in my posting over the last few weeks, what with getting the Easter book done and all. As I dragged my sleepy carcass down the stairs, I saw that the kitchen was a nightmare. (more…)
I’m getting better…some…kinda.
The last time I wrote a book, I procrastinated a bit, and then a bit more, and then published the book a few days after the holiday it was designed to celebrate.
Not this time, Bucko. (more…)
I guess you don’t have to call her Cordelia after all.
My girl didn’t get the part. Oh, she got a part. We all did, as it turns out. But she didn’t get the part. (more…)
Note: Sometimes life just isn’t funny.
This isn’t a political blog, nor is it a “What’s new in the news?” blog. It’s a blog about life, and about my struggle to live what Paul called, “A life worthy of the calling you have received.” Still, sometimes things happen in this world that not only need to be addressed, but that directly impact my quest. So we talk about them. (more…)
This time, it’s a family adventure. Of sorts.
If you’ve been reading for a while (bless you) you know that my family has gotten somewhat involved with a local community theater. Carissa and I were part of their production of The Sound of Music, which sucked up our whole summer, and Carissa and Cathy got to be in Miracle on 34th Street, which sucked up our entire holiday season. Alec and Carissa are learning to do tech, and, well, let’s just say the drive to the theater has become quite familiar.
Now cometh Anne of Green Gables, (more…)

There’s no use denying it—I am what I am. For the last few days, I have hardly stirred from my big green chair. I have slept, eaten, napped, read junk novels, snoozed, scrolled aimlessly through Facebook, slumbered, and slept.
I’ve been sick.
There are no spectacular symptoms I can point you to. No raging fever, no projectile vomiting, no delirium—at least, none that I’ve noticed. I’m not bleeding, either internally or externally. Neither pox nor pustules are in ready evidence. I’m just totally wiped out.
Frankly, I almost wish I had some better symptoms. (more…)
You may have noticed that sometimes I get a little scattered.
My writing can be a bit…oh…hodgepodgey. Looking back over the six months since I started this blog, I see that I have written about hiking, braces, car failures, home improvement nightmares, dogs, dates, worship, and my favorite chair, among other bits and bobs.
Sort of a digital stream of consciousness.
I thought it might be time to sort of remind you, and myself, exactly why I’m here. (more…)
Is my family cheap…or are we deep?
Both, I’m thinking.
At gift giving times—birthdays, Christmas, Arbor Day, etc.—my family often opts for presents involving experiences. Not that we aren’t fond of stuff. We love stuff, and judging by the amount we’ve accumulated over the years, stuff loves us. I think it’s just that years of near-poverty and my own phobic response to clutter have rendered us open to more (more…)