This Year

This here is an update to my blog. What can I say? It's cold. The little indicator in the corner of the screen says -22 degrees, and that isn't a bit surprising. The Camry never woke up this morning, but thankfully my folks let me borrow the truck, which started like a champion.

This is also a note to say to those of you who actually read this and are interested, "I'll be busy for about the next four months and subsequently away from the blog-o-space." Two jobs, three classes, and life have caught up with me now and I have no choice but to tighten up the spare-time belt at least two notches (it was pretty loose over Christmas break).

So here's to buckling down and getting through the next semester. To all of you who are in the same boat, I call,

I heard in Addison's Walk a bird sing clear
'This year the summer will come true. This year. This year.
'Winds will not strip the blossom from the apple trees
This year, nor want of rain destroy the peas.
'This year time's nature will no more defeat you,
Nor all the promised moments in their passing cheat you.
'This time they will not lead you round and back
To Autumn, one year older, by the well-worn track.
'This year, this year, as all these flowers foretell,
We shall escape the circle and undo the spell.
'Often deceived, yet open once again your heart,
Quick, quick, quick, quick!—the gates are drawn apart.' (1)

As the frost thickens around the windows, I look forward to the end of the semester and to new adventures just around the bend.

(1) C.S. Lewis, "What the Bird Said Early in the Year