Ghille Suits, Speeding Chickens, and Porky Politicians.

Owen is sleeping with lumber and insisted in wrapping the playhouse in string.

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Every afternoon, around two-thirty, my mouth starts watering, and I know, at that moment, that I would do unspeakable, unspeakable things to have some kind of Asian food.

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The new Writing Our Faith class is up. Check it out here.

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My friend Corrie sent me two links that show Calvert County at its finest. The first is a bit groan worthy, but it is minutes from my house and involves, yes, chickens.

The second is a lengthy article describing a train-wreck of a local politician. She brings her pigs with her everywhere (in fact, that's why she moved to the county). She regularily brings a pig to the local BBQ joint, which is sick and twisted. I wouldn't bring my  children to a cannibal restaurant. Just sayin'

(Also, she hates teachers, which makes her, in my mind, mockable).

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Finally, my friend Melissa saw a man dressed like this in the local hardware store.Are you kidding me?

I think I'm going to wrap the house in twine and take a long nap with a sheet of lumber. If the above events are normal, what is considered strange?