Love

I am continuously struck by how intentional love must be ...

My wife and I have to work at our love. It is work, but it's that kind of work that is more rewarding than any amount of sweat and tears you put into it.

... I wonder if that's how it is for God. So intentional ... so willing to sweat and cry ... and how he must rejoice beyond any meaning of the term we can fathom when the love is returned.

No wonder angels dance.

Public Service Announcement

Garbage Pale kids are back! Unfortunately the packs no long include the really terrible-tasting gum, which is how you rationalized buying them.

Galloping Gertie

My brother, Rob, is now living in Tacoma, Washington. True to form he's spent much of his spare time uncovering the folklore and finer points of his new turf. In the process he's reminded the family of the classic attempt by Tacoma to build its own suspession bridge. The bridge was the third largest in the nation behind the Golden Gate and the George Washington Bridge in NY.

Anyway, people loved the bridge because even in the lightest wind four to five foot waves would roll down the bridge causing cars in front of you to disappear and reappear as they drove accross. Not surpisingly the bridge failed only four months after its completion. The best part is Galloping Gertie was almost left open despite the fact that it was clearly unsafe.

Luckily ... except for Tubby the half-paralyzed dog, there were not casualties.

Thanks Rob for the fine trivia.

Change colors. Why bother?

Since moving to California, I've noticed that Fall is a formality largely reserved and revered for the mere fact that we get to set the clocks back (don't get me wrong, I revere the clock thing as well). In the Northwest, though, it was more of a process, and it was appreciated.

Where is this bitterness coming from? I'll tell you.

When Krista and I moved to Dana Point I took notice of all the deciduous trees, and I hoped (oops) that I might get to see some Fall colors. As it turns out, the trees here, much like everything else, just skip straight to the outcome and have no appreciation for the process. So, leaves don't really change color as much as they just pick a night and in the darkness die and fall off the trees. It's depressing.

Now I will go get a haircut.