...trying to catch the moonlight off the water, and I'm struck by the resolution of the human eye.

...and the inability of even the very best of cameras to capture some things.

Perhaps that's why I appreciate artists who can...

K'... With the premise of limited winnings...

...and the charity thing a given:

Shelley wouldn't even touch this one for less than a mil. ...and then we'd be moving.

I'm with Patti and Lisa: homeowner mentality.

To recap: No, that's not me mentioned in the extended story from yesterday; that's my pastor. Sheesh...

...and yes, that is me mentioned in the main story. ...and yes, those little morsels are to die for (perhaps literally once Shelley is back online. No, she's better; just too busy and too tired after being busy to post).

Hmmm... My assistant read both stories and said I should have mentioned leading her into temptation as well, from when I offered her some <g>.

...and my apologies to anyone whose chain I yanked too hard with that one. It seems, as an attention-getter, it worked better than I thought. I did need to get that one out though...

...and yeah, that's some of the reason for the lack of posts. On the other hand, it's sure going to be easy to archive this week!

I indulged in some transitory pleasure the other day. It was a great way to relieve some built up stress... I simply turned my back on the rules set down by those who care about me and just enjoyed the moment.

...and I may pay for the indiscretion, both in the short term and in the long term; but I was living for the moment and living for the desire. ...and I denied that it would hurt anyone but me.

Damn, but it felt good though, to just enjoy the delights of the flesh. To savor the moment and the feelings...

I didn't really want to slip even that first time, so long ago. I knew there were rules. Rules put in place to protect me both now and later.

...but the memory was just too sweet. ...and the thought of those feelings coursing though my body was just too much. ...and I slipped again.

I know better. Good grief, I even teach this stuff. ...and with all the warnings I've heard and all the warnings I've given, it still came down to that temptation of the flesh: Think how it would be. Think how it would feel. They'll never know; I'll never mention it. ...and I'll hold the secret until I die.

Yes. I'll know. ...and it will eat at me. ...or I'll become calloused and uncaring. ...and perhaps a little distant. ...and a little less communicative in some areas.

...and no one will know. After all, I don't have to tell anyone anything. I can stand on my own and deal with it if I need to. ...and it's not like it's something I'll make a habit of. ...unless that perfect opportunity opens up once again. After all, timing is everything.

No, I'll just go on about my life as though nothing really happened. I mean, really nothing really did happen. Not really. I mean, I had a really good time and all that; but that's not really where I am on a day to day basis. No. ...not at all.

Thing is though, it seems like there's a suspicion. Maybe I didn't clean up just right. ...or maybe I left some telltale something somewhere. 'Cause I get the occasional look. ...and some questions seem so pointed. ...and I'm hearing, "Don't be so defensive" more and more. ...or so it seems.

Man, if that's the way it's going to be, I don't know that I want to be here anymore. I can find better elsewhere. I mean, look at the other day! That was pretty good. ...and I can go down that road again. ...as a matter of fact, I think I will. I just need to see what's available...

It's just so easy to give in to temptation. It seems like it's a full time job to keep the defenses up. ...and it seems like it's just pounding on me all the time. At work, at the stores, on TV, in the paper... It's just to much to deal with. How can you not give in? I mean, it's just too much to deal with... That other path is right there; I can see it every single day. All I have to do is just relax and take a walk over that way and life will feel really, really good. ...at least for the moment. ...and the next. ...and the next. ...and the next.

Whoa... That end of the story stuff might be okay, 'cause who knows who's right and who's wrong. ...and who cares anyway. ...anymore.

But what about at the end of this chapter. That doesn't sound so good. That sounds like some sort of having to live out the consequences here and now. Whoa. ...and double "whoa". That's not good at all; I don't want to deal with this stuff now. Not up front and now. That's not good at all.

So what to do?

Maybe it would have been better to have left that bag of Orville's Gourmet Popcorn Sensation Chocolate Toffee Crunch on the shelf at Target the other day...

That's about all I'm up to posting this weekend on this site (the main site has the usual stuff).

Today we hit 96 in the valley; that's a good ten degrees cooler than it's been most of the week. ...and they're saying maybe even the eighties this week.

That will be a welcome relief for those of us who've had to spend time outside during the day: the heat's just been draining.

I'm not on hiatus; I've simply been too busy to sit down and think very often this past week. My emails have been absolutely at a minimum and the only long post I managed didn't finish until well into the morning hours.

...and I'm not anticipating this week to be any better in terms of the time constraints. I am hoping for a break in the high tension thinking; that would allow me to relax and at least recognize those little absurdities of life that I like to put up here in lieu of cognitive thought.

Yeah, I've been busy...

...but she's made good on her recovery (or so she thinks) and is off to anywhere to buy anything. ...just to get out of the house sans kids.

It was blog or wash dishes...

When Shelley and I married and I moved from that house, I had right at seventy varieties growing, everything from old world roses that bloomed once a year to prize winning hybrids.

...and did I take any along when I moved? Nope, we were going to start a family and roses aren't all that kid-friendly.

...and it didn't matter much to Shelley: she is one of the few women I've ever met who could care less about roses.