About this blog

Hello and Welcome.

I’ve been blogging off and on since 2002 . This is my third blog. Recently I had decided to scrap this one and begin anew with a fifth attempt, but after a week of intense fiddling around with different formats and styles, I decided that this was the one I would stand with.

Though this blog is going to be different than what I had done in the past, and a little different than what I’d been doing here since June 2008. It’s not going to be a constantly-updated-keeping-up-with-current-events kind of space. There are already so many doing a great (and many more doing a not-so-great) job at that and it’s really not what I aspire to be. First of all I am employed and have limited time. I also have the even-better job of being a husband and father to three healthy and very active children to keep me grounded (and offline). So my postings may be sporadic. However, they will also be of a higher quality…I hope.

Comments will be enabled, all email is read, and thank you for stopping by.

Jeff Walker
booklover14 – AT – hotmail DOT com

The weary Mole also was glad to turn in without delay, and soon had his head on his pillow, in great joy and contentment. But ere he closed his eyes he let them wander round his old room, mellow in the glow of the firelight that played or rested on familiar and friendly things which had long been unconsciously a part of him, and now smilingly received him back, without rancour. He was now in just the frame of mind that the tactful Rat had quietly worked to bring about in him. He saw clearly how plain and simple— how narrow, even— it all was; but clearly, too, how much it all meant to him, and the special value of some such anchorage in one’s existence. He did not at all want to abandon the new life and its splendid spaces, to turn his back on sun and air and all they offered him and creep home and stay there; the upper world was all too strong, it called to him still, even down there, and he knew he must return to the larger stage. But it was good to think he had this to come back to; this place which was all his own, these things which were so glad to see him again and could always be counted upon for the same simple welcome.

The final paragraph of Chapter Five: Dolce Domum in Kenneth Grahame’s The Wind In The Willows.