I met a gentleman a week ago who told me that his son is the pastor of a “growing church.” We like to hear churches described that way, but what does it mean? It is typically meant to communicate that the number of people attending that church is growing. No reflection on the aforementioned “growing church,” but increasing attendance is not necessarily the evidence of a growing church.
In just a few weeks, voters in Santa Rosa County will head to the ballot box to make important decisions that will impact our community for years to come.
Give the Florida High School Athletic Association a little credit. At least it didn’t wait until a third major hurricane hit the state to make changes to the football schedule.
Last Monday, a press conference was held to announce that the regular season was going to be extended by a week to allow for extra time to get all the games in that might have been impacted by the hurricanes.
I have admitted before in this column that I am a horrible horticulturist. My home is the place where plants go to die. Yet, as I type this column, outside my window sits a tall, lush basil plant – a picture of health. I had purchased it as a small plant along with a big bag of plant soil at the garden center earlier this year. With regular watering it did well for about a month, but one day it began to look tired and wilted. I gave it some plant food and more water. The plant must have assumed that was its last meal because it soon looked dead. I was about to add another plant to my list of kills until my wife said in passing, “I think your basil plant needs more soil.”
Sometimes it amazes me what makes news.
As Hurricane Milton came ashore last week in Florida, lives were lost. Millions of damage occurred, if not more. And there are people who survived who will have a drastically different life in the aftermath.
I went out to the University of West Florida a couple of weekends ago ready to cover a cross-country meet bright and early on a Saturday morning after a late night of covering football in the rain.
I don’t mind waking up early. I’ve always been an early riser.
I am afraid of heights and have been all my life. I once worked in the city of Toronto, and from my workplace I could see the CN Tower. Occasionally I would look up from my work to watch its elevators climb the outside of the spire then disappear into its pod 1500 feet off the ground. One day, in what could only have been a moment of insanity, I agreed to visit the CN Tower with my parents and my wife.
