Happy Birthday, Marines. Dad – don’t know if you read blogs up there, but Happy Birthday to you, and Harry and all the other Leathernecks guarding the streets.
My life has been blessed by knowing Marines, starting with my father, Oliver.
So, to all my friends around the world serving in the U.S.M.C. I hope you are having a blessed day. You’ve earned it by your service.
My mother is perhaps reading this blog today. I hope she likes it. I suspect she’ll be my first “troll” if history proves to be consistent.
And, thus, “Hi, Ma!”
Yes, they are here. Soon they will attempt to eat my brain. Over the next five months they will build their forces relentlessly. One by one they will occupy every open space, push under doorways that were slightly ajar or have bad weatherstripping.
They will try to steal our brains by means of freezing our flesh. And only through wearing the appropriate armor and huddling with other besieged members of the tribe in the lee of the wind will we triumph over their onslaught.
Finally the forces of light will bring a temporary fix in this northern clime, forcing longer days in between the little white zombies and my brain. But like a Romero movie, it never lasts and they will be back before we even know the wheel has turned again.
My only hope is to sharpen the blades of my beloved snow blower and charge them with the engine roaring and the discharge chute aimed downwind.
Pray for all of us, for it has come at last – Winter.
*(Then again, it’s supposed to be 50+ on Saturday, so the shorts and flip-flop look will be back in at the mall.)*
Got up early to attend Bible study tonight. Shower, fresh clothes, hot coffee, smile on face… cancelled.
Needed that tank filled tonight, have to get it another way. How do you spend your time when a worship event is cancelled? I’m going to work on my alternative worship mode and do some writing.
After, that is, I rub Maisie’s nose… she is insisting that I leave the computer.
As I sit here in my living room, wife at my side, dogs at my feet, there is chaos afoot above me. Yes, 18 years after it went up, the roof is coming down. Last summer’s storms ripped off some of the shingles and I hit the powerball of home insurance – no matching material available, new roof required.
So, while I do technically have a roof over my head, it’s kind of threadbare. But I’m grateful that God’s given me a warm place to live in a cold world.