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We went back to Glasgow last weekend to help Dad and Anne decorate their tree and see some friends. The younger-than-us people sitting across from us on the train thought we were Mormon, because of Sarge’s beard. We figured they meant Amish, but further figured they were too drunk to compare and contrast. We arrived in Glasgow laughing and cold, with some doughnuts to test on my people. The second batch looked more like doughnuts. So much more that Sarge…
I’ve been away from the computer for the last few days. Away from the computer, but not without my notebook. I started writing the lines that make up this post while on the train to Glasgow on Thursday. I like trains, and I love writing while in transit. Something about the rhythm of the journey colours the words, knowing that that there will be some sort of evidence of change from beginning to end. I’ve loved notebooks for as long…
