Lonely Cottage

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  “Among the few features of agricultural England which retain an appearance but little modified by the lapse of centuries, may be reckoned the high, grassy and furzy downs, coombs, or ewe-leases, as they are indifferently called, that fill a large area of certain counties in the south and south-west. If any mark of human occupation is met with hereon, it usually takes the form of the solitary cottage of some shepherd. Fifty years ago such a lonely cottage stood on such a down, and may possibly be standing there now. In spite of its loneliness, however, the spot, by actual measurement, was not more than five miles from a county-town. Yet that affected it little. Five miles of irregular upland, during the long inimical seasons, with their sleets, snows, rains, and mists, afford withdrawing space enough to isolate a Timon or a Nebuchadnezzar; much less, in fair weather, to please that less repellent tribe, the poets, philosophers, artists, and others who “conceive and meditate of ple...

Church of the Swivel-heads

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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