At Least The Mudhouse Is Not The Doghouse

Once again, I find myself sit­ting in the Mud­house (Spring­field­’s coolest cof­fee shop) typ­ing away on a lap­top (bor­rowed, this time, from Ste­fanie Chappell–future Chi Alpha mis­sion­ary to the Wash­ing­ton, D.C. area).

I’m sit­ting here with Paula, Joe Zick­afoose, Sarah Her­man, Ste­fanie Chap­pell, and Noble Bow­man, and Ste­fanie is urg­ing me to blog some­thing per­son­al. To, in her words, “let out my deep feel­ings.”

Hmmm…

I am deeply hap­py to vis­it Spring­field, and I am deeply hap­py not to live here any­more. Sat­is­fied, Stef?

By the way, if you live in Spring­field and Paula and I haven’t got­ten togeth­er with you yet, call us soon–we’re leav­ing Fri­day morn­ing!