Not in the clamor of the crowded street, not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng, but in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

REDIRECT ALERT! (Scroll down past this mess if you're trying to read an archived post. Thanks. No, really, thanks.)

Due to my inability to control my temper and complacently accept continued silliness with not-quite-as-reliable-as-it-ought-to-be Blogger/Blogspot, your beloved Possumblog will now waddle across the Information Dirt Road and park its prehensile tail at http://possumblog.mu.nu.

This site will remain in place as a backup in case Munuvia gets hit by a bus or something, but I don't think they have as much trouble with this as some places do. ::cough::blogspot::cough:: So click here and adjust your links. I apologize for the inconvenience, but it's one of those things.

Friday, August 27, 2004

Almost that time.

Lots to do tonight--it marking as it does the start of football season, and, of course, Oldest's debut in her full regalia during halftime. Nothing quite like a small town on game night. Food, music, kids trying to sneak away to do some sinning, football, the smell of people and grass and burgers and leaky plumbing, dads leaning on the fence, the echo of the public address through the houses around the stadium, the traffic. The basic decency of the whole thing. I suppose other parts of the world surely have something akin to it.

But it's hard to believe there's anything any better.

I don't say it often enough, but thanks to everyone who comes by, whether it's once a week or once an hour, whether you leave a comment or not. I appreciate your willingness to allow me to think out loud, and your patience, and your kindness.

Now, all of you go and have yourselves a great weekend, and be sure to come back by on Monday.

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