‘Twas another blessing to be back in Iowa with fellow soldiers. Was able to break bread together, pray for them (though they may’ve not known), teach a curriculum re personality, communication styles, and how we tend to react under duress, and it was all, once again, a blessing.

I get it–trust me–that the world has, generally speaking, gone bonkers–wonky, in fact–but I am a soldier to my core and I know and love my brothers, and they’re not bonkers. In fact, as always, they are the bulwark: they are driven, driven, driven, and they’ll finish the job. (Don’t ever underestimate your local patriot-soldiers; they’re a bulwark against what’s coming, against what’s already here.) When the government is large, the citizen is small, and your local citizen-soldier understands this and is out to preserve liberty from the ground up. He has not forgotten his roots.

After I taught today, I went and walked/ran for several miles in the beautiful parks of Iowa:

Iowa, you’ve great parks. Blessings upon you! And thank you for your great soldiers.

*I hope you will indulge my Beatles pics. I’ve been an unapologetic Beatles aficionado since my stepdad turned me on to them when I was a boy and he let me have his vinyl copy of Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. After I memorized that album, I was hooked for life.

*The Beatles Invasion was a band that covered scores of the Fab Four’s tunes. I was on the edge of my seat, singing nearly every word aloud (my apologies to those within earshot).

“You say you want a revolution? Well, you know …”

*Puppy love is just the best (above).

Above, my friend Ann and I relished a day with huskies as we got to play with the dogs that either have run the Iditarod, or aim to. If you love dogs, and you appreciate those who live with, feed, nurture, and train these delightful and powerful creatures, I highly recommend the dog tour in Juneau. Ann and I had a blast. We got pulled on a ‘wheeled sled’ the dogs use in training; plus, we got an education in what all goes into dogsledding and the grueling regimen of man and his best friend.

Two of my buds let me capture their mugs on the seas. What great guys.

Some of us took to the rainy streets in Ketchikan.

“It was 20 years ago today …”

My peeps …

David, my bud, and some girl I really really like …

Oops, she’s back:-)

“We hope you have enjoyed the show . . .”

I caught David kissing on some girl. Shh … don’t tell.

Some good folks, right there …

On the ship in British Columbia.

D. and R. dancing the night away …

It is hard for me to say what I more enjoyed–spending time with dogsledders and their dogs (and puppies we got to hold) or the train ride through spectacular spaces, but here’s a sampling of the latter:

On the last leg of our journey back to Seattle from Alaska, we sailed to Victoria, British Columbia. It was a beautiful sunny day, and we were all on the deck, enjoying fellowship, sunshine, food, and music. (You can hear us and others talking on this short video.) My old iPhone does not do justice to the beauty, but here is a snippet nonetheless:

And here is Seattle at night (courtesy of my friend Ann):

Every wondered why it’s called Glacier Bay? Well, it lives up to its name:

It was so strange on the last flight home. The woman next to me had her ankles, legs, and thighs covered in tatoos of vines, weeds, and (perhaps) flowers, but it was her large hands and fake fingernails that discomfited me most. I don’t know what it is, but when I see something that is designed to be feminine and beautiful but it is twisted into images of foreboding and spiritual darkness, I get what Momo and Granddaddy called the “Heebie-Jeebies.” It’s a country way of saying, “Yikes! Look out! Darkness is here!”

When a woman’s fingers are pressed with fake nails of black and dark green, and the tips are pointed like those found in portrayals of the witches muttering in Macbeth, “Fair is foul, and foul is fair,” it’s ominous and darkness unfolds, as in the great tragedy. I looked over at her face. It was replete with piercings and steel loops and chains. There were piercings in her nose, above her eyebrows, between her nostrils, and more.

I was reading Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina on the flight back, but the pointed black tips to my left scratched mental scenes more from Macbeth than from AK into my thinking. I remain a Luddite, I suppose, where women are to be feminine and men are to be masculine, but as I see more and more in today’s unraveling culture of death and destruction, where we literally see men with beards walking around with purses and makeup and skirts and heels, and I–once again–understood why Romans 1 is just judgment for creatures who refuse their Creator.

The above is admittedly a sobering tone, and the subsequent posts will be mostly lighter fare. But we are in a strange time, and some folks have already long ago chosen the path of what Scripture calls folly, destruction, and suppression of the truth.

From the stern of the ship, our friends had stunning views, so we gathered on their balcony and imbibed the creation.