11 September, 2009


Today my biggest worry is that the ant scouting party in my kitchen is the harbinger of a third full-scale insect assault in 10 days.

For that lightly-borne concern, I owe a lot of people more than could ever be adequately expressed, much less repaid. Exactly eight years ago, my worries were a lot more primal.

Some of our heroes fell that day, but those who remain have proven over and over again they are cut from that same cloth of courage, audacity, perseverance and pure sheepdog protectiveness--I discovered yesterday that my new "adopted soldier" is a 31-year-old infantryman bearing the rank of Specialist, an indication that he enlisted relatively recently at an older age than most. On the strong backs and valiant hearts of him and his brothers, both civilian and military, we live today.

We are very blessed.