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.

Monday, August 23, 2004

Nice Quiet Sunday

Well, a fellow can wish, now can't he?

Up early Sunday--around 3 or so. Reba had a very disturbing nightmare that she has on a recurring basis. I won't go into the details, but suffice it to say your mind is a wicked thing, sometimes. We finally dozed back off before the alarm went off signalling the start of a new day. Shower, dress, watched the teevee a bit, got the kids up and ready to get dressed, breakfast, church. No Speedo talk in class, which is probably a good thing. And no flying monks this week. (You know, it occurs to me that unless anyone has read the past week's posts, the two latter statements would offer a rather odd view of our normal ecclesiastical activities.)

Good sermon on Amos, then off to the other side of the county to visit Ashley's other grandparents, which didn't last as long as usual due to a certain small girl with exceedingly big lungs and a penchant for mischief.

Back to the house for a while, where I finally was able to get the pictures off of Ashley's digital camera she got at Christmas. A Panasonic 320, and from the photo quality, I'm thinking it must have been one of those spiffy decapixel models. Looked like the photos were taken through a bottle of Karo syrup. But, she was somewhat excited.

On back to church for evening worship, where yours truly one more was allowed to demonstrate his prodigious 7/8ths octave range and his keen sense of rhythm. Actually, it turned out pretty well--I'm not sure what it is, but for the past few times when it has been my turn, there has been an area off to one side that is consistently, and loudly, off-key and off tempo. But that didn't happen last night, AND I didn't start choking on phlegm, AND didn't forget my place, AND didn't forget the tune. That last one is probably most important, since I read music about as fast as I read Sanskrit. Forgetting my way in the middle of a song is a bad thing, since under stress all of those little dots and triangles and squares and stuff just start looking like dots and squares and triangles and stuff.

Afterwards, it was time for the monthly get-together for the younger kids in Jonathan and Rebecca's age group. Met at the home of one of the nice older ladies from church, and after a short devotional, we had hot dogs and soft drinks, which, approximately five minutes after being served, were dumped and poured all over Rebecca's lap. Which created a giant mess in the nice older lady's floor, as well as all over Rebecca. Never really sure what happened, although it did turn out to be yet another conflict that occurred with the involvement of Oldest. ::sigh::

To home and to bed. And now, here we are again!

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