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though beneath my dignity to admit so, the demands of the next fortnight may require more even than I can provide.I shall suspend my commentations on the churlish inhabitants of this district until after Easter, as the majority of the season's most exclusive social events take place during Holy Week.
"...a tincture of grandness in simplicity".
T. H. White's King Arthur is not dissimilar to a certain former American President whose inheritance and ambition belied a genuinely simple nature.yet the conscientious reader does not extend the metaphor further.
two characteristics clearly distinguish these men; White's King Arthur is not prideful and he is guided by the perpetually-retrospective Merlyn (rather than Uther Pendragon incarnate).
in more southerly regions, one must alter the adage common among groundskeepers of Nebraskashire to "March showers bring April flowers".
I have begun reading a rather heady novel.I am fortunate not to have read the book as a youth. in my immaturity, I would have been impressed by its deprecating humor and preoccupation with thaumaturgy.
reading it now, I appreciate its bucolic setting, royal characters and righteous message.
indeed, my character would have been much attenuated had I read this novel, rather than The Pilgrim's Progress and The Faerie Queene, early in life.
how droll.
though not raised in exaltation, this sign reminds passers-by of a once-popular group of ignoramuses - men too simple to recognize that ultimately their goals would be achieved legislatively and economically, without all that undignified violence and commotion.
normally, my book list is restricted to classic novels, travel accounts and the newest scientific research. this weekend I read a contemporary work of fiction.it was, in a word, resplendent.
the articulation of so many beliefs on one vehicle undermines their persuasive power. while they share a common theme, their abundance suggests superficiality, a lack of dedication to any one idea.
as my sister, Shaler Marie Van der Hoof Caddingham, said of the good-natured hermit newly installed at her estate, "his distinct odor, a mixture of gin and human expulsion, comforts as much as it revolts".
"my father says that there is only one perfect view, that of the sky over our heads".
unlike any Anglican place of worship I've ever seen.
well-intentioned, straightforward and possessed of a racism tempered by a predisposition to fairness, Harry S. Truman reminds me of my grandfather.
William Nichol Joshua Caddingham was given two middle names, a distinction equaling any bestowed Harry Truman during his tenure at the White House.William Caddingham was a great man. his monument, like Truman's, can scarcely immortalize such a life.
en route to Kansas City for the weekend, I stopped at a quaint restaurant in Odessa of which I had heard much.though its proprietor seems a rather unscrupulous little Irishman disposed to world domination, there I enjoyed a delicious cup of coffee at a very reasonable price.
though beneath my dignity to admit so, the demands of the next fortnight may require more even than I can provide.
in more southerly regions, one must alter the adage common among groundskeepers of Nebraskashire to "March showers bring April flowers".
I have begun reading a rather heady novel.
though not raised in exaltation, this sign reminds passers-by of a once-popular group of ignoramuses - men too simple to recognize that ultimately their goals would be achieved legislatively and economically, without all that undignified violence and commotion.
normally, my book list is restricted to classic novels, travel accounts and the newest scientific research. 
the articulation of so many beliefs on one vehicle undermines their persuasive power. while they share a common theme, their abundance suggests superficiality, a lack of dedication to any one idea.
as my sister, Shaler Marie Van der Hoof Caddingham, said of the good-natured hermit newly installed at her estate, "his distinct odor, a mixture of gin and human expulsion, comforts as much as it revolts".
"my father says that there is only one perfect view, that of the sky over our heads".
strange indeed are the skills - if they can be so called - celebrated by the dimwitted, impecunious and uncouth.
well-intentioned, straightforward and possessed of a racism tempered by a predisposition to fairness, Harry S. Truman reminds me of my grandfather.
en route to Kansas City for the weekend, I stopped at a quaint restaurant in Odessa of which I had heard much.
