December 30, 2005

  • Well, I still
    don’t fully understand a blog ring. So basically you sign up and
    nothing happens?  I’ve decided to test the waters and have applied
    for membership in a blogring of people I do not know. But, judging from
    the pictures, blog entries, and bios, they seem to be just like many of
    the people I do know and name as friends.  I’m a bit nervous in my
    post tonight as I assume the approver and others will soon be swooping
    to my site to make sure that I’m worthy of inclusion, and I have
    nothing worthwhile or edifying to say!  Tim, can I borrow a post?

    I would love to know who the 1168 different individuals are who have
    viewed my site.  I set up a per-distinct-user web counter, not a
    per-hit counter.  So, unless I am very mistaken, many folks have
    stopped by this snowy woods, and my little self doth think it queer
    that I only can account for about sixty folk.  Then there are the
    serendipitous, like Zach, who know me and wandered here by accident.

    But, now on to the real issue I come to address in this post: do you
    think my font is too small? I’d be glad to make it larger for better
    read-ability, but I don’t want to make you feel as if you’ve stumbled
    into the Large Print section of Xanga.  (Does anyone else put a
    book back on the library shelf if it can only be had in large print?)

    Tomorrow night is the big, annual New Year’s Eve bash.  The good
    doctor is leading the prayer service at church before, so the
    festivities won’t start until 8:15 or so.  Thankfully, I do appear
    to be healed, so I’ll be able to play Trivial Pursuit until 4:00 A.M.
    like last year.  Bring on the Boggle!

    We finished listening to Inkspell
    tonight. It was wonderful, but it had too much swearing. Next time,
    I’ll have to read it aloud myself and edit judiciously as it turns out
    that Inkspell is the second
    book of a trilogy!  You should have seen the looks on Nathan and
    James’ faces when the story just ended with all those loose ends. 
    “You mean we have to listen to another fifteen hours?” And then, when I
    said the third book wasn’t even written yet, the looks of disgust were
    even more pronounced.

    I’ll end with a favorite joke.

    Two goldfish were in their tank. One turned to the other and said, “You man the guns and I’ll drive.”

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