In Which Your Humble Blogger is still small; it’s the world that got big. Wait, that doesn’t sound right.
In Which Your Humble Blogger preaches. So preachy.
In Which Your Humble Blogger in theory produces wheat on an 5 and an 8, and has three houses on Oriental Avenue, and also ten dollars behind the pass line.
In Which Your Humble Blogger is compelled to pay attention to what he has always known and what is so much easier to ignore.
In Which Your Humble Blogger cannot speak of what he cannot speak of, and yet cannot remain silent.
In Which Your Humble Blogger really does enjoy doing these, and should remember to actually do them now and then.
In Which Your Humble Blogger didn’t find a place in the body of the note to say: Hey, Honduras, what kind of asshole country declares war on Germany in July 1918?
In Which Your Humble Blogger continues the pattern of putting the answers in a separate entry, which is kinda like spoiler space, in a way.
In Which Your Humble Blogger has no answers, nor even suggestions, but is just hoping that as many people as possible are still around in three weeks.
In Which Your Humble Blogger is hoping