"The man as he converses is the lover; silent he is the husband." - Honore de Balzac

I saw a strange glow in the sky this morning that lasted for about 45 minutes. I rushed inside to slather on some SPF 45, but it's OK. It was gone by the time I got back outside and the guy on the news says we won't see it again for days and days and days.

Apparently the hot debate on the internet has nothing to do with the morals of people in New York or Muslim immigrants sneaking across the Mexican border, but whether pants on dogs should be on just the back two legs or all four legs. Even the President has weighed in (he says just two legs).
If someone wanted to make the case that the internet has been a net drain on American culture I wouldn't argue the point.

I dug the rest of the post holes for the chicken run and then set all six in concrete. After lunch I worked on framing in the third bay of the woodshed so I can use it as storage and hanging the pull-up bar in Barnette. Where to put it so that I can do pull-ups and knees-to-bar with the truck parked in there? So I measured the truck and discovered...it's big. Came in at 20' long and 7' wide, but by the time you open a door to get in/out it takes close to 10' of width. And therein lies the problem. Barnette is 22' long and 11' wide.
I hung the bar just inside the door wo that with the door open I *think* I'll have room to swing my knees. Maybe.

NFL playoff games rule the weekend. Tomorrow's second game and Sunday's first are the two I'm focused on. Will the Cards and Seahawks both win and face each other next week? I'm not sure how to root, but since my decision on that has no bearing on the outcome I'll learn to accept whatever happens.  The bigger problem is that the Seahawks game will be on the same time we'll be at church.

While I was writing at the coffee shop this morning I used the word, bidding. The Apostle Paul, despite having a CV putting him at the top of his profession as a Pharisee, and then a personal encounter with Christ, he lived a life of humble service. His commitment was to do God's bidding no matter what that meant. And it meant some pretty difficult stuff, including beatings, imprisonment, and eventually martyrdom.

While at the coffee shop I also had a conversation about dogs and my hope that at some point we can get a real one. Ideally we'd get a Golden Retriever (probably cost prohibitive). I've done some reading about them and one of their strengths is that they are the most biddable of all breeds. By that they mean that Goldens are easily trained to obey commands, even those that go against their nature.

The were used as birding dogs in England, trained to sit quietly in their master's boat until instructed to retrieve the downed bird. They'd bring it back to the boat and hop it, but if trained accordingly, will not shake the water like their instincts direct. They'll wait until they're on land where there's no risk of capsizing the boat, and only then give it that great shake.
Biddable.

I smiled mid-conversation at the thought. I don't know if Robbie and George wondered what I thought was so amusing, but it dawned on me...
I want to be God's Golden Retriever.