blog of Frank Viola. Thanks for sending people my way, Mr. Viola, although I don't know exactly why they keep coming. But howsoever they were directed here, I want to thank everybody for visiting.
Do check back once in a while. Although in a somniculous state, Lunar Skeletons is not totally defunct. Every so often I get a strange bee in my bonnet, and I add something new to the archive. Whether it is worthwhile to read is a debatable question that civilized people might disagree about. Meanwhile, they can search through the archives for all the other profound or ridiculous things I have written. If you have any questions, please be sure to read the FAQ.
For some reason, my strange short story about St. Alison Kaylee has gotten a lot of attention, by which I mean that it tends to get almost more hits than anything else, according to my blog statistics. But how did this story get started? Well, several years ago, may wife and I were vacationing in Tolovana, Oregon, over on the coast. But our luck had it that year where it rained most of the time, and so we were stuck indoors. Not having much else to do, I just started writing out this hagiographic short story in a notebook. Later, I refined it a little and added some of my drawings I had made during the time there.
What Rod Dreher ate today: fricasseed chicken in a red wine vinegar, herbs, and cream sauce, from the great book The Auberge Of The Flowering Hearth. "It was such an easy recipe I probably have it committed to memory after only making it once," quote Rod. Wow! If only I could eat as well as Rod Dreher. I recall that Bullwinkle J. Moose also had the amazing ability to remember everything he ever ate.