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I Love My Friends.

how to buy Lurasidone online A friend of mine is an artist – both painter and sculptor, he fashioned a bust of Henry David Thoreau for me which sits on my mantle – and he told me he wanted to build a chapel on my property.  I suspect that the term “chapel” is just a way of getting me to agree to the project – cunning, because of course I will do anything for God – and I came to my suspicion the following way: we were determining the location for the chapel, and I asked my friend where he thought the door would go.

http://hometownheroesrun.com/lib/beyond-conventional-boundaries-uncertainty-in-research-and-practice-with “Door?” he said.

I responded, “Don’t I need to get into the chapel to pray?”

He said, “Sure, I guess we can put a door in.”

So perhaps this will be a large sculpture more than a chapel.  But what the hell, I’ve got six acres.  You don’t need a building permit if the building is less than ten by ten, and we’re not getting a building permit, so it will be small.

Last fall we selected a site and began digging.  This year we intend to lay foundations and build.  My friend texted me just yesterday, asking if the ground was soft yet.  I told him there was still almost a foot of hardened ice on top of frozen ground.  He texted:

I had a vision that the church must resume construction.  It was either Jesus, or [a friend of mine]’s gay uncle Tim who used to model as Jesus for bibles in the 70s.

 He followed this up with another text:

If it was Tim there’s no rush.

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