Sunday, August 2, 2026
Way too Late at the Movies: Hunt for the Wilderpeople
Saturday, August 1, 2026
Vacant Lot
Most everyone in this town would look at this stretch of 25th East between Iona Road and the Yellowstone Highway and see some vacant lots.
Well, not quite vacant, because this map is old, and at the corner of 25th East and Iona is a business: Idaho Monument Company, the gravestone marketer that's relocating from the corner of 25th East and the highway, a few lots out of shot.
Why are the lots vacant? The county and state are working on a road project to widen 25th East and fix the intersection at the US highway, and the houses and business there had to go.
Progress, you say. We have serious need to improve the road infrastructure in this town because of the increased population and the traffic that population brought with it.
I agree.
I also happen to have grown up in a house built by my Dad on the lot outlined in red.
There's a fair contingent of folks around here who want better roads, but don't want those better roads built near where they live.
Guess what?
For better roads, some sacrifices have to be made. Maybe it's part of the family farm, or a beloved tree, or what have you. Or maybe it's the brick rambler your Dad built a bit at a time for his family of eight kids, who really have a lot of fond memories of that house.
It was no longer in the family. Mom and Dad have passed on, and for a while one of their sons owned the house, but they eventually moved on and the house was sold, as houses often are.
When we learned the house had been sold and was going to be torn down, we were sad.
But I got to thinking about the house. It actually talked to me in a dream, of all things. It said it was tired. It served us well, but that it was time to move on. It reminded me that the memories of the people who lived in that house are much more important than any structure ever could be.
We do have a few material souvenirs. As the house was demolished, our oldest brother got permission to go onto the property and salvage enough bricks that all of the siblings could have one. The brick sits on my desk as I write this.
And it's okay.
Of the three houses my wife and I have owned, one is no more, It survived the Teton Dam flood in 1976; when we remodeled the basement we found dried flood mud atop the foundation. It had been built in the 1920s. But it too was tired, and was demolished to make way for student housing for nearby BYU-Idaho. And again, that's okay. That house served us well, gave us comfortable shelter, and convinced us we weren't cut out to be landlords as we rented the basement out.
Progress.
I know everyone doesn't see it that way. It's just how I see it. It's okay. We move on. And preserve the memories we have.
Friday, July 31, 2026
Our Niagara Falls
A little sneak preview of the lesson y'all are gonna get from me on Sunday as once again we discuss the Israelites rapidly going through the good/bad cycle as they try to stay close to God and as they fail.
Their prophets, and some of the people, see it coming, they can see the cycle slowly turning toward the bad, and though they warn and pray and try to act as they should. They knew the signs, but always fell for the trigger.
So what is our Niagara Falls?
Thursday, July 30, 2026
The Summer of George is Over
The magic has left summer.
Let me explain: For the past billion summers, the family -- meaning all but me -- have gone to camp, whether it was Island Park Scout Camp or Treasure Mountain Scout Camp. Leaving me at home, of course, with the joke that I was the one earning the real money so they could go play all summer.
I reveled in the restored bachelorhood and found time to get chores done.
Then this summer.
I don't know what made the difference, but I've felt more lonely, more blah, and not all that motivated at all to get things done.
I've tried to get things done. I built a rail on the back steps. Twice. I've split some wood and worked on cleaning up the spot where the pine tree was. But it all feels mechanical. Part of it might be the heat. But I think traditional summer is coming to an end for me.
Part of me needs a vacation. But part of me wants that vacation to be me working on things around the house without having to fret over budgets and whatnot. I guess I'd better keep working so someday we can do that.
I'm trying not to be gloomy. But this year has been hard. Maybe next year, the Summer of George!
Wednesday, July 29, 2026
Between Books
Tuesday, July 28, 2026
A Cloak for Cowardice
There is a point at which the law becomes immoral and unethical. That point is reached when it becomes a cloak for the cowardice that dares not stand up against blatant violations of justice. A state that suppresses all freedom of speech and which, by imposing the most terrible punishment, treats each and every attempt at criticism, however morally justified, and every suggestion for improvement as "plotting to high treason," is a state that breaks an unwritten law.
Just. Stop.
The AI slop continues to hurt.
I have not interacted with this one as I don't want to feed the algorithm.
That is the goal, of course. AI offers a refined way to produce ragebait for engagement.
Burn in hell, Dr. Marvin. (She never says that.)
Sunday, July 26, 2026
Way too Late at the Movies: Project Hail Mary
Mortgage Going Down
Friday, July 24, 2026
One Last Log
Today, and thanks in part to a random Amazon driver who had some advice on log-splitting, I got down to just one more massive log to split. And at this point, I'm not sure I'm going to cut it up. Oh, I probably will, but I'm feeling pretty tired at the moment.
I still have a lot of work to do to make this area more presentable, clearly. But getting the firewood out of the way is a big step and should make the rest of the work easier to accomplish.




