Home

I am home, now.

The drive home from the airport was beautiful. I've forgotten how great Southern Ontario is this time of year. And the warm, wet early morning air was an excellent addition after the dryness of Fort McMurray.

My Mom's been doing wonders with the backyard, again. It's full and green and busy.

And there are the dogs, of course, who are aging but still silly and attention-hogging puppies at heart.

And I scrounged up some essays and poetry and stuff that I'd brought home from school. I don't know whether to put them here or not; it isn't so much a case of whether I will ever publish them or not--I only will if I become so famous that anything I write will sell as an insight into my legendary mind, and this isn't likely--but whether my hardly existent readership will be interested. I suppose I could ask for feedback (and do use the comments feature, any returning readers), but given the "hardly existent" nature of my readership, I won't go looking for answers.

Well, I'll tell you what I have and, if you exist, you can tell me if you're interested.

I have "Caribou Vestments and Dreaming Prophets: Inuit, Dene, and Missionary Christianities." This is about syncretism.

I have assorted journals from my readings of Chidester's Christianity: A Global History, which I could skim through and try to find interesting passages.

And I have my portfolio for my Creative Writing: Poetry Edition class.

Later I'll check this again and see if anyone's expressed interest. In the meantime, I'll go update a previous post.