Why, in my journals, do I insist on putting date and time, rain or shine?
When reading back these things, I don’t even glance at the date.
What’s the next journal on the timeline?
Shoot, it’s only May. It’s still 1975 and I’m still at Luther College in Regina.
A lot of complaining, decent writing and what seems to be clear and intelligent though definitely teenage thought, and plenty of playfulness.
That playfulness is still around.
|My mission, which I have chosen to accept.|
I’ll work my way through the second journal over the next four days off. Most of it isn’t interesting; after all, been there, done that. But I find myself laughing out loud fairly often. Guffawing. Recognizing. Remembering. Gladly farewelling.
And anticipating burning, with some glee.
It’s gorgeous fall weather and Bev has invited us to Kuroki for a bonfire, but Scott is combining and we can commit to nought.