". . . little shall I grace my cause

In speaking for myself. Yet, by your gracious patience,

I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver . . ."

(William Shakespeare's Othello, I.iii.88-90)

Tuesday, April 6, 2010


I spent close to an hour on the phone today trying to handle some of my mom's medical affairs. Later I found myself driving in the car with my 6-year-old. Evan has been thinking a lot about heaven lately, as evidenced by his many questions regarding what it will be like there. Some of the questions I am able to answer, but some are "above my pay grade." ☺ Today I finally just had to tell him, "I don't know, Evan. But when we get to heaven, all our questions will be answered."

I had to laugh when in the back of my head a little voice continued, " . . . in the order in which they were received."

I think I'm suffering from post-phonetic-stress-syndrome.

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