Morning of the ninth day of March

Three of us boys have moved all our beds into one quaint room where there is an air conditioner. Last summer Biggin Diggin and I saved a lot of money while still living in the costly land of tall buildings because we kept only one light on at a time when we were home and ran only ceiling fans. Well, after a brief and chilly 70 F winter the sudden shock of 110 F a few days ago was just too much to bear. Thankfully we're now living close to the stop next to the shady spot and tea ladies, where we get more bang for our buck, and can now afford to sleep without sweating as long as we snuggle up together in that little mid-section of our apartment. It's nice.

Biggin Diggin is now just a 5 o'clock shadow, however, and since our short-statured friend thinks he has big cheeks we've started a new morning workout club called "Running-in-Place." I was alone in this little joy until recently, and now I'm having visions of Forrest Gump running across the country with zealous followers- only I see the masses gathering "in place," hence the name of course. This has more or less turned into a group of sweaty men in cut off Wal-Mart knockoff underarmor wishing they were singers and drummers for Hillsong United.

Last night after Nicodemus and Puff Daddy left our apartment- which was a pleasant visit- we watched a music video of "Point of Difference" (thank you iTunes). My heart is meant for this mode of present sojourning, while waiting on the dwelling to return, but there are still a few things I miss from the regions surrounding Swampoodle: family, friends, my books, a regular dosage of *bucks, and the encouragement of large and lively corporate gatherings. I wouldn't trade small and intimate on a weekly basis for anything, but sometimes it's just nice to be reminded that on a bigger scale you're not alone. At the same time, many in our family still haven't experienced such a foretaste.

I'm thankful for snacks, but I'm also ready for the wedding feast.

Peace be yours.