bear and mushrooms

My youngest brother is a writer--not a hobby writer, a professional writer for numerous rap and hip-hop entertainment magazines. He's quite good, I must say. We're awfully proud of our recent college graduate, with his name on the staff lists and articles abounding. He is definitely becoming accomplished, beyond what you might consider successful for someone the sweet age of 21.

You might describe him as ambitious, driven, disciplined, maybe--maybe--smart. But you weren't sitting at the kitchen table with him the other day, when he announced that half of all Americans don't like mushrooms.

Sound ridiculous?

Never you mind why we were having a discussion about edible fungi).

Add to it this line (and I quote): "Only old people eat mushrooms."


Ah, the promising youth of America....

back

Honestly, I would be writing much more had I my beloved mac laptop around. Writing without him just isn't the same.

Summer for me has meant travelling and entertaining guests, moving from a luxury apartment in the city to a refurbished antebellum home in a small town, songwriting, new jobs, new vehicle, thai food, portobello mushrooms, humidity, motorcycles, stripping furniture, scheduling and rescheduling and postponing trips to the beach, to Nashville, to Richmond again, to Sparkle City, SC, and a perpetual search for the perfect curtains and throw rugs. It's also been such a huge time of spiritual feasting on God's word, lessons, and providence that I'm still digesting it all (thai food and mushrooms not included).