but, then again, maybe...

(for Darren) Several months ago, I posted on Facebook that I had broken up with the band, or something. Darren wanted to know what I was talking about. It's taken this long, but now I'm writing about it. On November 18, 2011, my dad was diagnosed with ALS.  The same night, I went to Syracuse to see Scythian [the band I had been following] open for a band I had only heard about, Enter The Haggis. Mom called me on my drive up to tell me about Dad. I arrived at the concert feeling, well, numb, I guess. I don't know how else to describe it. I saw friends; I guess I enjoyed the concert. One song stood out. "I'm not gonna stand on the end of the pier/I'm not gonna let you go down with the ship." They were sending it out to someone for some reason or another, but it resonated with me - I needed something to hang on to. Over the next 2 1/2 years, I followed Enter The Haggis almost exclusively. I did see Scythian a couple of times, but it was ETH that I was...

Emilie Loring is an author who's books were originally published in the 1920s & 30s. They are full of adventure. And handsome men. The heroine is never "beautiful." Instead, she has violet eyes framed by dark lashes, a pert nose, a wide smile. Oh, and she wears well-tailored clothing. The men, well, the hero, has clear gray eyes, smokes a cigarette now & then, and says "damn!" The bad guys' eyes are always set too close together. In more than one book, the hero & heroine get married in the first few pages: they are found together in an abandoned cabin (because she chased a run-away dog and he chased her) or her car breaks down outside a saloon, the bad guy's there, the hero walks in, sees it's his enemy/a bad situation, says, "I thought I told you not to meet me here!" and they get married so they can leave together. etc. Then they go on to have all sorts of adventures, not telling anyone about that cabin by the tracks, meanwhil...

I cannot tell why He, whom angels worship,   Should set His love upon the sons of men, Or why, as Shepherd, He should seek the wand’rers,   To bring them back, they know not how or when. But this I know, that He was born of Mary,   When Bethl’hem’s manger was His only home, And that He lived at Nazareth and labored,   And so the Savior, Savior of the world, is come. I cannot tell how silently He suffered,   As with His peace He graced this place of tears, Or how His heart upon the Cross was broken,   The crown of pain to three and thirty years. But this I know, He heals the broken-hearted,   And stays our sin, and calms our lurking fear, And lifts the burden from the heavy laden,   For yet the Savior, Savior of the world, is here. I cannot tell how He will win the nations,   How He will claim His earthly heritage, How satisfy the needs and aspirations   Of east and west, of sinner and of sage. But this I know, all f...

now. With the wind, I fear, it is much colder than that outside. I'm wearing a hoodie inside (I never do that!) and I'm drinking hot chocolate (I do that all the time) and I'm still feeling a chill. BRRR! That said, I would rather it be cold in January than July.