Thursday, April 9


I Aten't Dead, as Esme Weatherwax Would Say*

My sincerest apologies for the long delay in posts over the past two or so weeks. I have managed to escape from New York and ride shotgun on a U-Haul with my dad through the rain-soaked, wind-swept length of rural Pennsylvania, across the happy, flat, sunny and green agricultural countryside of Ohio, and, after a quick glimpse at the Golden Dome in South Bend, finally arrive in Milwaukee and get moved in with his assistance and that of my mom, who, while she would not use the term feng shui, knows how to arrange furniture and pick our colors like the best of them. Now they're back in Florida, and the place is cheery and ready for me to settle in, if perhaps a bit quieter for their absence.

My apartment, in a village just north of Milwaukee, is a very cozy little place with a gas fire, plenty of shelf-space and my new favorite couch. I'll have to post some photos sometime soon. In the mean time, I look forward to chronicling Catholic life out here. Just when I decide it's plain ol' suburbia, the Midwest throws me for a loop, whether it's discovering a tiny Catholic cemetary and yellow-brick Romanesque chapel across the street from a behemoth furniture warehouse, or watching a tiny Smart car zip through my building's parking garage. This place has definite latent weirdness potential. And I'm the one to ferret it out. Watch this space.

*It's a Discworld in-joke. Don't ask. Unpacking all my paperback Terry Pratchett books and shelving them must have gotten my mind going.

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