New blog

In the hopes of exploring my nerdy philosophical and religious interests without boring, imposing upon, or alienating my good friends, I am launching a Catholic-oriented blog, where I will learn, explore, and teach whatever happens to interest me at the moment. (I will continue to maintain and contribute to this site.) Though I don’t expect anyone to follow me there, I offer the link below in the interests of transparency. 😀



I saw a strange thing.

I saw a blind man with two legs

carrying on his back

a man with two eyes

and no legs.

I said to the man,

“Where are your legs?”

He replied, “I cut them off,

for I did not want to rely on crutches

to carry me through life.”

I said to the other man,

“Why do you carry him, when he was

born with two perfectly good legs

and decided to cut them off?”

The blind man said,

“Even so, I was born with two eyes,

and yet I plucked them out.

Now I carry him

and he sees for me.”

I saw a strange thing.

Poems or not

I thought I would do the poems today. I may or may not. 

We know there’s a lot to do. That goes without saying. 

There is heavy machinery working in the wooded lot behind us. Greenery is disappearing, little by little. The end point is uncertain. Grace is sitting by the window, quite distressed. It touches some deep, unrevealed part of her inner landscape. 

We have a job offer. We took it. The contract is supposed to be sent today. 

We aren’t going anywhere, but with the heavy machinery in the lot behind us, one does think…

I don’t like writing poems on my phone. 

Lot of chaos on the messy floor world.  A lot of people judging each other, on all sides. Loud voices. I sometimes wonder if I’m judgey enough, or if I’m too insecure about my own moral character to feel such. If I’m lacking, or less than, morally and emotionally. Sometimes I wonder if the loud voices are the same and are just trying to drown out the hum of their own internal chatter. 

I need to find a better device for poems.


They are

the stunned deer,

jumped too soon,

that hit the side of the pool,

and were pulled from the water,

dangerously flailing.

Use your kid gloves,

fawn gloves,

to bring them back to life.
This is probably unfinished, but I didn’t have much sleep last night and I wanted to see what I could come up with. 

So, some other stuff to round things out. 

My wife got a part time job. It should be enough to get us by. Very grateful for this. 

Got the kid to school on time for the first time this week. Not sure why, except that the highway that gets us there didn’t happen to have lane closures today. Four-day weeks for summer school, half-day days, apparently. It will be interesting trying to get him ready from a hotel room for the last week next week.

They are starting the floors next week. We are getting packed out on Tuesday, which is moving, essentially. No difference that I can think of, anyway.    

My daughter warned me about double-positives. As opposed to double-negatives. I’m trying to figure out exactly what that would be.

I might’ve should’ve stuck to the poem. 


It’s 9:30 am and I’m wondering if I ought to go back to bed.

Perhaps I should make breakfast.

Perhaps I should finish those two stories that are now in backlog.

I wonder if it will continue pouring rain all day. I wonder if it will be one of those days in southeast Texas, where suddenly and unexpectedly we are having a five-hundred-year flood.

I wonder why they call them five-hundred-year floods when they happen every couple of years now.

I’m wondering if we should try to sell the house if my wife doesn’t find work soon.

I’m wondering why that website said the house has lost so much value suddenly, and if we should still sell it if so.

I wonder if they’ll move our stuff out and start the floors this week.

I’m wondering about friends who move in and out of our lives. We don’t always know the reasons. Sometimes we have more to do with it than we think. It can be difficult to approach sometimes, awkward to ask, sometimes better to leave unaddressed, to wait for more information.

I wonder if I’ll ever get back to Mass. I wonder if the boy is a good enough excuse not to go. I wonder if I really want excuses. I wonder if anyone but me will ever understand why I want to go.

I wonder if life is a laughing matter. There is so much at stake. But if you don’t laugh, what have you got to live for?

I wonder if anyone knows what a rotten mood I was in yesterday. I know that I chose that mood, entirely. Circumstances do not dictate reactions. They simply bring hidden truths to light.

I wonder if other people are more sincere than I am. Fake it till you make it, my mother has told me on more than a few occasions. Effort is not fake. It comes from motivations. Motivations can be hard to judge and are perhaps best left untouched.

I wonder if there’s any leftover fried chicken.