This is going into the box designated for “Half Price Books”.  “The Riverside Shakespeare” is 1,923 pages – and almost six pounds – of the Bard’s masterpieces.  It’s one of those books that looks good on a shelf, but it’s not something I’m going to pull down for some leisure reading.  That’s probably literary blasphemy for an English teacher to say, but I find reading Shakespeare about as enjoyable as the next guy.  (Plus, the font in this book is microscopic!)  WATCHING Shakespeare is an entirely different story.  I actually enjoy a good Shakespearian production either on the stage or on the…

I picked up this oversized inflatable basketball in Clay City, Indiana, if I remember correctly.  There’s a Free Methodist camp in Clay City … and very little else.  There was a little shop “downtown” which sold ice cream and an odd collection of this and that.  We actually bought their restaurant booths when they went out of the ice cream business.  The booths fit perfectly in the youth room housed in the basement of the parsonage we lived in at the time.  The basketball and a smilarfootball were for camp games. They’ve been in a box ever since. So I…

Storly got onto a track during Sunday School today where he started asking about folks within our class who have connections to some sort of charity work or missions – places that have needs of one sort or another.  (This is all in the context of our study of “The Hole in Our Gospel“.)  One of the couples have a daughter and son-in-law (and grandkids) on the mission field with Wycliffe in Papua New Guinea.  Apparently, there is a need there for English translations of the Bible and there is an effort underway in our church to collect a thousand Bibles…

Not sure what this thing is.  It’s not a mug – the lip is flared and would make it impossible to drink without spilling the contents all over yourself.  I have some vague recollection of this thing holding pencils and pens on my oldest brother’s desk in our childhood room.  I have no idea if it has any significance to him or not, but I’m not mailing it to him like the frog (Day 85) … this thing is metal – I’m not paying postage for that!  Goodwill can have it. Also, an update on our progress toward Haiti.  As…

At first I was going to let my kids enjoy these posters for a while before tossing them out, but then I got to thinking – it doesn’t look good to have a bunch of ancient posters taped to the walls when you’re staging a house to sell.  (Not that we’ve had anyone yet express interest in seeing the house!) Then it occurred to me that I have a mega-Star Wars fan among my students this year.  Let’s just call him Obi Wan for our purposes here.  Well, Obi Wan loves all things Star Wars – he will actually blurt out…

So I’m mailing it to him.  I didn’t get him and his wife anything for Christmas (and they sent us a bread recipe book that Melissa has used several times already) so maybe I’ll put a couple of quarters in before I seal the little devil in a box…  I’m sure Ryan will be so excited when this shows up at his door.

I found about twenty record albums in a crate.  When I pulled one out of its sleeve and showed it to the kids, their eyes got wide and they asked, “What is THAT?”  So I explained how – years and years ago – CDs were not shiny, but black, and they laid flat on a revolving table.  When I got to the part about the arm and the needle, they started looking at me with that expression they get before they ask, “Are you teasing us?”  (Or, as The Princess (age 4) says, “For REAL?”) I’m sure some of you…

We were stranded at home today (like 100 million others) by the “historic” snow and ice storm.  We’ve just had the ice part of it.  The trees are starting to lose some branches and Melissa swears she is seeing our lights flicker now and then.  The kids are all hoping the power goes out because Melissa made the mistake of telling them that if the power goes, we might just have to invite ourselves over to Steve and Keri’s house.  They have a fireplace and a kerosene heater and are within walking distance.  Melissa and I are thinking survival … our…

This is one of the few momentos from my childhood that I remember holding onto. I knew it was around here somewhere, I just wasn’t sure what box it was in.  My oldest brother, Ryan, and I shared a bedroom as kids.  There was his side and there was my side and I was strictly forbidden to cross over to his side – even when he went off to college.  (On weekends home from Purdue he would carefully inspect his side of the room for evidence that I had trespassed.) Once we were both out of the house, my parents turned…