Here we go. Or not.
:: So, a few weeks ago near the end of September, Jane and I decided that it was time to step out in faith. We would leave St. Luke’s, we would join the Roman Catholic Church, and we would trust that Christ would show us the community He wanted us to become part of. (I find faith journeys fascinating, no matter where they end. Well, almost no matter where they end. This is one of the interesting ones.)
:: All writers can do is to write the stories they have in them.
:: I drove across the country with my boyfriend years ago. We went to many many states. We saw many beautiful things. We went through mountains and plains and prairies. But the states that touched us the most – the states that, frankly, blew us away … were the Dakotas. (I drove across South Dakota with The Girlfriend (now The Wife) many years ago, and it really is compelling landscape; the way the soil changes color once you cross the Missouri River, the way the Interstate has exits right into farm fields, the way the exits to towns are marked with mileage to the next town so as to warn you to get off NOW if you need gas, and the longest horizon I’ve ever seen.)
:: A century from now, even the very best blog posts will be long forgotten. Let’s face it: they aren’t that good. But bad blog posts will still be every bit as bad as they were on the day they were spawned. They’ll endure. So really, we’re doing this for the children. And the grandchildren. (I know, this is all a pretty childish exercise — but yes, I voted. Althouse, Derbyshire, Du Toit, Hindraker, and Whittle.)
And that’s it for this week. Be careful out there among them English.