word to the wise...

The last month and a half (in case you haven't noticed) has been a wasteland of words. I've been preoccupied with life so much that even the prospect of sitting down and gathering words together to talk about the days of my life has been burdensome. When blogging becomes slogging...you know you need a break. I write because I have to. It's a cleansing therapy for me. But there are times when I feel that I need to...and in those times I shy away from the activity.

So much has been happening. Summer has been filled with energetic activity. We've gone to the Beach a few times, the girls are enjoying swimming in a neighbors pool, I got those spiffy lights that line my landscaping (they are kept alive by solar energy), my lawn mower broke (it's fixed now thanks to Brian Kuieck), lots of time is spent at the library, feeding ducks, going to festivals and fairs, watching World Series of Poker, taking in the summer blockbusters (though I haven't seen Trasformers yet...next Monday night), hanging with friends, travelling to see family, having evening camp fires together, hanging out at a friends farm and adopting a mangy cat, riding a four wheeler with the girls around the farm, picking cheeries and rasberries, killing groundhogs in my yard, watching Brian Regan over and over again and laughing harder every time I watch it, preaching a series in church called Renaissance: a rebirth of the disciplines, starting to record another cd with some new music, speaking at a few venues, etc.

I guess now that I think upon it, about the time I started to drift from blogging was the same time I got a viscectomy (sp?), that just took me out of the mood. I have yet to make a full recovery, in fact, I'm seeing the doctor again today. Things just aren't normal, so we're going to get to the bottom of what gives. That was an experience that I feel like I could write a sweet blog about, and maybe one of these days I will, but suffice it to say that I'm pert' near a Eunich now. I did find it strange that they wanted to talk to me during the entire surgery. They were asking me questions about what I was preaching on that weekend and how I went about putting a message together. I was gripping the side of the bed like I was preparing for a crash landing in a prop plane. Somehow I managed to give them intelligable answers in the midst of the less than ideal circumstances. Who would have the nerve to ask you pointed questions while your legs were in stirrups? The nerve.

I'll try to make it more of a priority to get on here and log my life. If I don't, much of it will be forgotten. I'm already forgetting how my last month was spent...I wish my brain was stickier. Oh well. Until next time...stay away from doctors who tell you to do unnatural things that you were never meant to do prior to the fall of humankind in Genesis 3. A word to the wise.


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