Boy, Are My Arms Tired...

Us bloggmeisters here at the Horde are plain tapped out of theological brilliance for the moment, so here is some autobiographical filler for the week. Let me assure the hordes of Horde fans (hi, mom!) that Jeremy and I will get back to posting edifying material any day now. However, Garet is rumoured to have gotten himself hopelessly lost in an Emergent Church's Prayer Labyrinth. He may never "emerge" from the labyrinth to blog again.

The picture above is of yours truly at the helm of a Cessna 172. Yesterday, my parents and Jeremy were kind enough to come out and see me on my first solo flight. I was a little nervous in having my life depend on my meager piloting skills (after only 12 hours of stick time), but the Lord granted me success and I completed 2 takeoffs and landings by myself. My landings were lacking in finesse, but I was pleased nonetheless.

Once in the air, I thought "well, self, you're the only one who can get yourself out of this mess now. No one is sitting next to you to keep you from doing something stupid 1000 feet in the air at 120 mph." There was a light crosswind on final approach, but nothing unusual. "Remember," my flight instructor always said, "smooth as a mayonaisse sandwich." Well, my landing actually resembled a pickle relish sandwich more than mayonaisse, but the plane was in one piece, and so was I. Good times.

Category: Blogging Ourselves