“There is nothing I would not do for those who are really my friends. I have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not my nature.”
― Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey
Two weeks from Sunday and we’re off. Holy cow. Also, of course I get a couple of last minute work projects for the weekend but c’est la vie. I’m taking off from everything but friends and family next week…and the week after that will be in London and househunting like a fiend!
In the meantime, Amy and Ryan are back visiting this weekend (yay!) and next weekend we’re going to an Busch Gardens. I have not been to an amusement park in about 15 years, so – wait. No, I went to Universal Studios with Jeff’s family a few years ago, but I have not been on a proper roller coaster in 15 years. I also have fond memories of Busch Gardens from the last time we lived in Virginia so that will be a fun little bit of nostalgia with the family before we trot off.
Hello my future Bible.
YOU GUYS. To say that I’m excited is a huge understatement.
Public television is still my first love.
Something sneaky is happening here, temperatures are cooling (slightly) and a couple of top level leaves are looking distinctly yellow. Time for new boots?
I quite liked this. I too remember a time when I could have been kinder to a particular person, and I remember remembering that feeling a couple years later and being kind to someone when not a lot of other people were. I thought the first event would make me cooler – it didn’t. I thought the second wouldn’t make me cooler – I was wrong. I think the advice to err on the side of kindness (except in situations with really and genuinely dangerous or damaging people) is always good.
Britain is on the brain for every around here, I think, but that price tag is simply ridiculous, even to an enthusiast.
A puppy room. I want to go to there.
I understand the impulse, but I think it probably isn’t wise to pooh pooh what made you famous.
That is one heck of an oops.
As a youth I went to a couple of counselors to help me to first cope with and then move on from my mother’s depression and some of it’s consequences. She’s much better and I’m a much better person for it. I believe in therapy wholeheartedly, even though I know it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. However at one of my counselor’s offices, I remember that they had a strange and slightly unsettling picture of a clown on one of their walls. I’ve never been afraid of clowns, but in retrospect I wonder if it was a sneaky mechanism to keep patients requiring their services. Hmm…