You'd start next year as an Explorer.

Twenty-one years ago ...


2 Timothy 4:6-18                                                         October 13
to be girded for the fight                                              9510.13


At my first defense, no one came to my support, but everyone deserted me. May it not be held against them. But the LORD stood at my side and gave me strength, so that through me the message might be fully proclaimed and all the Gentiles might hear it. And I was delivered from the lion's mouth. The Lord will rescue me from every evil attack and will bring me safely to his heavenly kingdom. To him be glory for ever and ever. Amen. 16-18


I didn't believe You'd hold me incommunicado for the whole week without having some grand mission -- some grand payoff in mind. A starter which takes 30 minutes to install has dragged on for six days -- please release me from the isolation and bitterness this has caused me!

[In this journal, page 122 with prayer requests for "Susan + me - truce!, Sandy Bramlitt, [and] Venza McGregor" at the bottom of the page.]


Now on to other things.


Today is our niece Breanna's twenty-first birthday. Martha's older sister Margaret's daughter. Avery's mom. And it's also the tenth anniversary of my father Robert's death. But I don't hold that against her.


Before I got to work I called my stepmom Susan (the Susan referred to above -- we didn't get along for quite a while when I was in Florida) and she lives an hour inland from the coast. Power went out there for four days after Hurricane Matthew hit and there are still county roads under water I'm told.


I just about typed that as country roads and spell check wouldn't have picked that up. But that would not make much difference. The fact is, I chose today's journal entry -- I excerpt one most Thursdays on these posts -- because it's the one I wrote the day Breanna was born. Before I even knew who she was, or that we would cross paths as a result of Martha I would meet online in another five years.


An Explorer. That's what I need to start becoming, with both Nanowrimo coming next month and for the sake of realizing my own potential, which lately I have not been doing. The line is from one of the latest books I've read, volume six of the Brian K. Vaughan and Fiona Steeples authored and created Image Comics series Saga (ISBN 9781632157119). Star-crossed husband and wife Marko and Alana reunite with their estranged daughter Hazel just after she's turned four.


That is, turned four after an extended period in a Landfallian detention center. And everybody wants to find her, particularly Marko and Alana's peoples (he's Horns, she's Wings) that have dragged the known universe into choosing sides in a galactic war between them.  For more details on that, feel free to check out "Saga (comics)" at Wikipedia or a post of mine from the seventh of March this year, "This is how an idea becomes real." Bounty hunters, disbarred royalty, magic, super-science make this Star Wars - Romeo and Juliet - Game of Thrones crossover an astonishing, enlightening read.


On the subject of crossovers, the novel Trap For Perseus by Luděk Pešek (ISBN 0878881603, translated from German by Anthea Bell) crosses Alien, Nineteen Eighty-Four, and some original Star Trek episodes. Yet it has nothing to do with the hero of Greek myth. No, the Perseus is the third spaceship by that name in the late 23rd century which comes upon an Earth-built habitat lost two hundred years ago at the edge of the solar system. When the captain of Perseus III and several crew members head over to find what happened to the previous crew twelve years ago ... it's a life-changing experience for all concerned.


So is reading George Orwell, at least I find him so. Not so much because of his writing; I mean, this is the guy who wrote Nineteen Eighty-Four, Animal Farm, Burmese Days (I haven't read THAT since the turn of the century!), and "Politics And The English Language" but because he convinces you the more you read him that something's still wrong, without beating you over the head with his political views. Today that's rare. This morning I finished Mitzi M. Brunsdale's Student Companion to George Orwell (ISBN 0313306370) and how much his life ties/tied into his work is pretty impressive to me.


So is the good Dr. Brunsdale; I looked up her name and she retired two years ago from Mayville State University (another MSU!) in the eastern part of my state, about halfway between Grand Forks and Fargo I reckon. Perhaps she'll look up this reference. At least today I did not have to take the kids to school early as I have the last two days, though I did again have to scrape the windows so I could see out of them! I don't mind if the kids fight over who does that or any other chore.


I mean, that's useful, and I figure the kids should earn allowances and not have them handed to them! Today was the day after Jeffrey got back with his fourth grade at Longfellow from Great River Energy's Coal Creek station near Underwood and he was so eager to go on that! He even bagged and brought in some coal from the nearby mine as all his classmates were able to.


But contrary to my boss Erik's prediction, my son did not -- or he did not share with me -- a lot of stories about it. Again, that I remember. By the time I got home last night, dinner was already set out and Martha had to leave for Wednesday night choir practice. I can't turn down fried chicken!


And good news yesterday from Dr. Albertson, I'm taken off some more of my anti-seizure medication phenytoin. And my blood sugar I have less of, and I rejoice at that.


Explorers and excessive sweetness just don't mix, David