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It is not too late. By the time this is published, we will be withing spitting distance of Reformation Sunday and it is not too late for you to fling yourself headlong into celebration of the incredible kindness of God … Read More

It all started with me getting excited about a bowl of oatmeal. Not gonna lie (I never lie to you, reader, you should know that by now), I find this embarrassing on a number of levels, not the least of … Read More

Once a month, the men at church gather on a Sunday evening to sing and study and fellowship. I am all for this. Yet it must be admitted that we are creatures of habit and pattern and to have Sunday … Read More

The weekend was blessed with rain, after an unusual streak of many dry and sunny months. Seattle was about to lose its tourism attraction and the anxiety over the risk of becoming just like every other liberal, crime-infested, climate-obsessed mecca … Read More

This is atypical. Moms may get sick last, but we are not supposed to get sick longest. I swear it is in the handbook, right after that bit about no longer being obligated to eat the oatmeal you make everyone … Read More

Want to know another fantastic thing about cranberries (assuming you are all caught up on recent posts and don’t need me to spin another sonnet in admiration of cranberries. Save both of us the time and hop to the archives)? … Read More

(Not to be confused with Italians, who may or may not lie, being human and all. Have you watched the acceptance speech of their newly elected prime minister? Makes you want to be Italian. If you watch one political video … Read More

Sometimes I think it must have been fun to be a Pharisee. It is sort of the way I sometimes feel when I see bimbo college girls. Years ago, a friend was grieving over the shallow obliviousness of her younger … Read More

The fevers have broken! Kind of like morning breaking… only brighter and with a worse taste lingering in our mouths. What is that, anyway? The entire inside of one cheek is all bumpy and gross feeling and I couldn’t figure … Read More

Once upon a time, a jazz musician married a horticulturist and she has been wheedling for him to dig her a cranberry bog ever since. My logic is darn near irrefutable: he has a Bachelor’s degree in horticulture with an … Read More