I Am Not Dead, I Do Not Sleep

I am moving to Alabama in 2 weeks.

I. Am. Freaking. Out.

But never fear! I will be back with more gripping news and anecdotes regarding:

1. Our latest anniversary here at the Nation (a.k.a., Year 2: The Fluevog Anniversary, following on the heels, so to speak, of Year 1: The Hitchhiker Anniversary);
2. The fact that we've finally taken our wedding pictures;
3. Why Sparky suddenly became wildly blog-shy last month.

Oh, and the title lyric for this post might be a bit obscure for most of you. In absence of a true post, have a read from Mary Frye, 1932 (and the ensuing debate around the poem). You can also go here, install the Rhapsody software (it's free), and listen to Eleanor Daley's choral setting; it's number 12 on the list and it's one of only two pieces I've ever sung or directed that can reduce a choir to tears in just the first read-through.