Restocking my shelves with old stock from my childhood library (transferring books from my parents' house to my house, in other words), exposing my eyes to words and images I may or may not want to see again, due to the knowledge of their pebble-in-the-pond effect stirring up settled matters.
Eighty-one portable thought sets rambling on subjective objectives from military to business to religious to geographical to Scouting.
Details in another place and time?
Thanks to Angie and other smiling faces like a Turkish server in Colonial Heights. Did I mention Neel or Stan?
The silence speaks voluminous yawnings. Should I listen or snooze?
Patience, Rick. Let ignorance and superstition fade without offering resistance or excuses for the defensive supportive posture. I am one in a long line of deliverers of a partial message. I don't know the message I string along to those who will also attempt to decipher the indecipherable.
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