Many, many upcoming Milestones (or mile markers)

It’s been awhile since I have had any type of relationship with the blogosphere. Even now I’m feeling guilty as I glance over to an unpacked suitcase. If the kids were up, we could move on to gift-opening and stocking-unstuffing. But for now I wait and procrastinate at the same time.

I did check my email. Maybe someone would send greetings that way this fine morning, I thought. But no. All I found were more ads for things that I neither want nor need. And I found some strange email as a result of someone commenting on my blog. Basically the guy (or gal) was trying to sell me drugs on line. The drug he was offering was one with which I was not familiar. So, of course, I had to do a little research. But anyways, back to where I was going, back to the point I was trying to make, before I totally loose my train of thought, and before the kids awaken, or before my wife summons me to some morning chores, it is (and this is the actual point I am trying to make, in case you get lost in my rather unusual and disjointed sentence structure or lack thereof) very strange how people end up stumbling upon a certain blog. Is it random? Is it serendipitous? Is it fate?

Did you know that if you use AOL and search for something linking armpit lumps and paint fumes you will end up at “Blobjects by Timman?” Of course you will also end up being pointed to “the pooh freak” and “the duke of earl” as well as some legitimate medical sites. But I never would have thought my humble ramblings might be of assistance to someone trying to make that important link in their lives.

And if I keep writing, I will probably see some way that all of this relates to Christmas. It could be that Christmas on many levels doesn’t really make sense. It really is quite a preposterous story. A Creator becoming a creature? Someone wholly other becoming completely intimate with us? A gift-giver becoming the gift?

Well, this should give me something to ponder as I spend 20 plus hours locked up in a relatively small vehicle with three kids and a wife. It could be torture, but I rather hope that it will be a time of sheer joy and harmonious together.

Merry Christmas again.