It’s been three long, full days, and yours portly is dragging, but having fun. I’m way behind on the old blog, but that’s to be expected. Our days have been longer than I expected—a good thing!—but it’s left me worn out in the evenings.
I have a guest post that I’d hoped to post today, but I’ll be postponing that until Friday so I can do justice to the introduction; after all, I have a reputation to uphold.
Next week I’ll be posting lots of pictures, but here’s one for the road:
This morning I am hitting the road to visit a gigantic humanoid mouse and his other anthropomorphic pals. This’ll be my niece and nephews’ first trip to Disney World, and we’re all eager to get down there.
I’ll be posting as usual while I am down there, but posts may be a tad shorter than usual.
I’ll also resume my SubscribeStar Saturday series on my trip to Arizona as soon as possible.
Ah, yes—the bleak midwinter. A time for eating frozen pizzas and warm soups, washed down with hot, black coffee. A time for turning in early at night, indulging in the warmth and comfort of fleece sheets and heavy quilts.
I see why bears hibernate right now: ’tis the season for coziness, to embrace the hygge. I certainly eat like a grizzly preparing for a few months of hibernation, but I don’t sleep off the excess fat stores. It just gets added on until another round of gastrointestinal self-denial kicks in after I gaze at my double chin too long.
It is with the spirit of the hibernating grizzly that I write this post. I love writing, but like most writers, that love is sometimes coupled with hate—or, in my case, weary indifference. It comes in waves, most of them brief, but I’m currently riding one at the moment—or flailing about frantically amid it, my head occasionally dipping below into the briny deep.
I’ve been writing this blog for so long now, it’s amusing to see how cyclical life is. Apparently, I was running a low-grade fever right after Christmas 2021; this year, I was running a higher-grade fever around New Year’s 2023.
I’d completely forgotten that I rang in 2022 by going to bed at 10 PM after nearly a week of puttering around my house in a sickly fog. My Christmas Break in 2022-2023 was much more action-packed, but that just meant the “slow down there, sport” illness hit right when I was supposed to go back to work. D’oh!
That said, I do enjoy—in limited doses—the life of a hermit. I’m very thankful to have a supportive family, and a strong support network of neighbors and friends nearby who can help me out in times of trouble. But there is something appealing, especially during this dark, cold months, about holing up in my warm little house, eating frozen pizzas and watching horror movies.
For those that read my Tuesday post, here is a quick health update: I think I am on the mend. I went back to work Wednesday, as my fever broke. I’m still coughing a bit and have some gnarly congestion, but my voice is back, which makes teaching possible—hurray! Here’s hoping that as my health improves, I can use some of this slower wintry time to get crackin’ on several long-delayed book projects.
An eager commenter on my original “Bible Study” post prompted me to give a second brief update on my daily Bible reading (I wrote the first update back in July 2022). Apparently, my humble daily regimen inspired the reader to establish a schedule of her own. To that, all I can say is, “To God Be the Glory!”
That said, it’s satisfying to know that the words I scribble down on this self-indulgent blog do, indeed, reach people. There are probably fewer things more pleasurable to a writer than to find that his words have made some impact on his readers, and the pleasure is enhanced when it’s a stranger. We all understand that we influence those close to us, for good or for ill, because we can see the effects more clearly. But the idea that a stranger might be reading our words is a small sign that we’re expanding beyond our immediate familial and social circles to wider audiences. It feels good.
But I digress. This post is about studying the Bible, not tooting my own saxophone; pride, after all, is a sin.
By this time next Friday, I’ll be back at the grind, starting with some teacher meetings. The public schools in my area have shifted to a semi-year-round schedule, so those unfortunates will start classes on Monday, 1 August 2022. Yikes! That means teachers in the public schools have already been back, which doesn’t seem right. No one besides an administrator or grounds crew should be darkening the door of a schoolhouse in July.
Of course, heading back on 5 August 2022 seems pretty dang early in my book. I notice that my school keeps inching up the return time for faculty a bit more each year. I’m still a tad baffled as to why they want us to start back on a Friday. Classes won’t resume until Wednesday, 17 August 2022, though, so I still have a little time before I really hit the ground running.
The news cycle remains slow, it seems—just more of the usual bad news. As I am writing this post, I’ve spent nearly $400 in gasoline (petrol, for my British readers) this month in a car that gets around 32 miles per gallon. Granted, I’ve been keeping the road hot with lessons and seeing my new lady friend, but, goodness, something has got to give.
As the long summer days roll on and families squeeze in last-minute vacations, yours portly is resorting to an old chestnut with an extremely niche audience: Bull Terrier Tuesday.
If you want to know about my dog, the nine-year old bull terrier Murphy, keep reading. If you’d rather not know about my adorable, stubborn old girl, feel free to read some of my other posts to tide you over until the real substantive content returns.
It’s been over a year since the last Phone it in Friday, which I take as a good sign that I’ve been providing quality content on Fridays—or at least new content on Fridays—instead of simply offering up self-indulgent rehashes of past posts and various minor reflections.
In that post—“Phone it in Friday XVIII: Writing“—I wrote that “I keep thinking 1000 posts will be a good time to give the blog a rest and to reduce my output, but who knows if I’ll be able to stop?”
Well, I hit 1000 300 posts ago, and I’m still truckin’.