Spring is really here and the oak pollen is everywhere. Everything done in pale green dust.
We were at a dinner tonight for the anniversary of the Lane Theological Seminary … It’s not a real seminary any more, hasn’t been since 1932, but they still own land and assets and stuff. The only reason you’d ever have heard of the place, if you’re not a presbyterian minister, is that their first president was a guy named Lyman Beecher. And, well, the only reason you’d have heard of him was that one of his kids was a girl named Harriet, who grew up to marry Calvin Stowe and write a honking great novel about the evils of slavery.
Hey, I tell you, all sorts of culture happens around here. Constantly.
So I survived the dinner. How was your Sunday?
white pebble 