"Be thankful we're not getting all the government we're paying for." - Will Rogers

Just thought I'd throw this out there.

I got an email from Amazon this morning that my resubmitted files met their technical requirements. They identified a couple of problems on both the text and the cover, including a DPI below 200 "that might mean poor quality images." That's the same message I got last time and everything looked OK but I ordered a proof copy just to make sure. It will arrive Friday.

I planned to put the new distributor in Sally today but a) I'm in a PMF (Preacher's Monday Fog) and b) we had visitors today and I didn't want to start/stop that job. It should be done at one standing. So it got pushed to tomorrow's agenda.

Two of the older ladies from the women's Bible study Pam attends came late morning to see the baby goats and all the other action on our little corner of Baker Rd. Shortly before lunch three gals came. Tracie is in our small group and she brought two friends.
Everybody is drawn to baby goats.

Marta stopped by after lunch and brought us some doe's milk from their Nubians. That's because we've brought Eclair (the buckling) inside for bottle feeding so Sundae doesn't have too much of a drain on her system from feeding three kids. Eclair will eventually go on a formula that comes in powdered form but starting on doe's milk and making a gradual transition to formula *should* make that an easier process for the little guy.

Since bringing him inside we've tried one bottle feeding and, as expected, he wasn't thrilled. He got maybe an ounce or two only because he had to either swallow or gag. It may take him a couple of days to accept getting milk from a nipple and not momma.

Marta said we need to take him out to the barn for a visit even while we're getting him used to taking milk from a bottle. If we don't and then reintroduce him after a lengthy absence Sundae won't know him and might see him as a threat to the two she's raising. Think of is as parental visitation.

I don't watch hockey except during the late rounds of the playoffs and now in the Stanley Cup finals. It's hard not to think of the similarities and contrasts between hockey and soccer. In many respects hockey is soccer on skates with a puck instead of a ball.
Oh, and there's frenetic action the entire time.
And when they've played 60 minutes the game's over.
And they fight.

The installer from Midgley's is coming tomorrow afternoon to see if my work preparing for the installation of our new wood stove will meet their requirements. It does on paper but the unknown is how the new stove will line up with the hole through the ceiling from the old stove. If he has to shift the new one forward for it to line up I'll have to extend the ember pad I made.
That would not be fun.

I leave for Brazil two weeks from tomorrow (Tuesday). That puts it close enough that I need to think about the timing of things like a haircut. If I get it to soon I'll need one before I come back but I'm already due. (I get them about monthly.) I also need to get a few clothing items.
I understand Speedo's are de regueur on the beaches in Brazil so I need to be prepared.

Speaking at the prison is an interesting experience. Last night was my third time and I feel more comfortable each time.
The first time I was really nervous and afraid I was going to do or say something very inappropriate. They have very strict procedures for getting in and out, which is understandable. It makes the TSA procedures at the airport look casual.
Then there's the men who attend the service. They have been allowed to attend because they've not had any behavioral issues so it's not like I'm in there with anyone who poses a risk. And in the very unlikely event one of the guys went off over something I now realize the first people to intervene would be the other inmates in attendance.
I was told I should not ask them why they're in prison, what crime they committed. It's OK to ask a guy how long he's been in and if he has a parole date, but not why he's there.
And I determined not to think about that part of it. I decided to interact with them as though I was at a men's club.
Turns out they're nice guys, at least all the men I've talked with before and after the service. They have a sense of humor, they know how to make conversation, not just talking about themselves but asking about me and my life. And they don't take themselves too seriously. In my sermon I poked fun at a couple of them and they all responded with good laughter, including my targets.

At this point they know me and I recognize many of the guys and look forward to seeing them.
I know they've committed serious, and in some cases repugnant crimes, but there they are singing songs of praise and worship and then listening attentively and responsively to the Word.
I believe in God's grace and want to be an example of his grace.
It's good for me to be there.