My Attempt to Be Faithful

Today officially starts the beginning of my attempt to create a blog discussing my family; the goings on there, and my personal and general opinions.

I want a delicious cup of Damascus Road coffee, with cream added enough to make it a soft caramel color, and enough sugar to give it a smooth sweet taste. Coffee is the basic staple of the Kontur household. In the morning, the first person up is, by default, elected to make the first pot. Which is usually consumed by 8:30 on a work day, 9:30 on any other day. Then starts the second pot. That pot usually isn't finished on a normal day, and is usually gone on a work day. If dad makes the pot, it is usually a little weak. (He likes to take the first purc which is always the strongest portion of the pot.) If Bethany makes it, it is almost always perfect (she likes it strong). If I make it, it is usually a hit or miss, at least in my opinion. I can never seem to get the grounds perfectly fine.

Okay, so I don't need coffee. I just want coffee.

And I'm exhausted, but I'm really enjoying my Avett Brothers pandora station right now.

Since today is Wednesday, we have church at night. My mother is the worship leader, I play guitar and violin, Abigail plays keys, and my brother John plays the Electric. (Tonight is his big debut. He should do alright. I'm not looking forward to possibly splitting my fingers open again... Its an all night worship service.) As my mother gives me last instruction before leaving the house, I'm presented with the options of continuing to blog, or to clean up what must be our dining and living rooms. She is going through our school year prep for my younger siblings and it seems to have taken over our entire home, causing me a headache. (Or maybe its the lack of coffee...)

I've been trying to post to facebook a song by Chatham County Line, Route 23. Its especially good. Good harmonies, good rhythmic patterns. I love it.

For now, I've made the economical decision to clean up the house. After all what am I, but an element of this very home. This is me. And I will thrive here, or die here.