In Which Your Humble Blogger believes in being headed somewhere, so long as we don’t fool ourselves into believing we’re getting somewhere.
In Which Your Humble Blogger had never previously imagined Cary Grant as Mattithias/Matisyahu but is now far too amused.
In Which Your Humble Blogger should probably have brought a third handkerchief.
In Which Your Humble Blogger also came across an essay that points out that there aren’t really Shavuot commandments, just traditions, and perhaps disagreeing with the Sages of Blessed Memory is my very own Shavout Tradition.
In Which Your Humble Blogger gathers some stones, if you know what I mean, and I hope nobody does because YHB sure as hell doesn’t.
In Which Your Humble Blogger has been finding Ecclesiastes kind of comforting lately, which is terrifying in itself.
In Which Your Humble Blogger feels, a bit, as if I am in a sense sorting the blocks that I might hope to use to build something, later. For the moment, though, it’s just a somewhat-organized mess.
In Which Your Humble Blogger writes another thousand words, this time about a nine-word verse. Honestly, I’m like a parody of myself.