Welcome, October

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 “The skies they were ashen and sober;        The leaves they were crispéd and sere—        The leaves they were withering and sere;  It was night in the lonesome October        Of my most immemorial year;  It was hard by the dim lake of Auber,        In the misty mid region of Weir—  It was down by the dank tarn of Auber,        In the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.” (First stanza of “Ulalume” by Edgar Allen Poe)

Church of the Swivel-heads

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I was preparing to post the link found below when my wife called. Last night a horsefly got into the house and she had a hard time trying to kill it by wacking at it with a small roll of paper. This morning the fly (or a close relative) continued it's disturbance and she finally got it to go outside. My 6 year-old son says, "you probably wacked it so much you gave it amnesia and it forgot where it was supposed to go."

Ain't that a hoot?

In all seriousness, here is an awesome article I would venture to call "Church of the Swivel-heads", reminding us that the church does not have to try to "keep up" because the world does not want us anyway: "A Cry for Difference from the Culturally Weary."

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