So of course I decided today—right now is the time to start a new blog. I blame a higher-than-is-wise dose of Benadryl. Also, it’s Sunday.
I’m not even sure ground bees is what they’re called to be honest, but their classification seemed really unimportant as I sprinted away from the lawn mower, even less so now as I’m typing and could easily look them up and provide actual, valid information.
That would set a standard for this site I’m not willing to commit to (yet).
But I’ve been wanting to get back into casual writing and since the yard work was halted on account of the insect muggers, here I am.
I won’t tell you to expect thoughts on family, marriage, fatherhood, music, leadership, work, accessibility, baseball, technology, or life. My track record for new blogs has been abysmal in the last twenty years. It’s even money that this will be my only substantive contribution.
Still. I like to think that I’ve reached the level of maturity and discipline (and wisdom and knowledge) to deliver something worth reading on a semi-regular bases. I’ve certainly started proof reading before hitting publish which is a previously unattained level of refinement, so there is hope.
Until later -🦉
P.S. Immense gratitude to my friend and colleague Tyler Hall for the website home.
P.P.S. Since I don’t have footnotes set up here yet, pretend the Sunday reference in paragraph one links here to elaborate with the following:
In the end, it was the Sunday afternoons he couldn’t cope with, and that terrible listlessness which starts to set in at about 2:55, when you know that you’ve had all the baths you can usefully have that day, that however hard you stare at any given paragraph in the papers you will never actually read it, or use the revolutionary new pruning technique it describes, and that as you stare at the clock the hands will move relentlessly on to four o’clock, and you will enter the long dark teatime of the soul.
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