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Business with the Templar (which went mostly fine by the way, though Razvan would probably enjoy a card or three as he got a little roughed up) brought us to Chile recently, and ever since I got back, Caleb has been telling me about Chile non-stop. He had to study Chile for school. He seems quite keen to inform me of all the things I missed. And I realised I was there and I didn't take in any of it. I never do. Not Nova Prata or any of the places in Romania or Chile, I don't consider myself as having been to any of them. The Templar have tainted all of it.
Also, a friend of mine, Father Kilpatrick, suggested that I go with him to Vatican City next month. He is helping me finish up my thesis, and he has been a wonderful advisor over the years. He isn't in the know, as far as I know. He simply has certain opinions on the danger of fanaticism that are in line with mine. Of course, the second he suggested I go with him to Vatican City, I might have made a flimsy excuse and run away from him and then called up Saul to have Dead Meat check him out. He was clean, by the way. But I refuse to go back to that place.
I think spending three weeks in a hole under the ground of someplace would do that to anyone.
So...I suppose my rather obvious and rambling point is that travelling does not equal the Templar. Well. That and I have issues, but who is surprised there?
As soon as certain familial obligations negate themselves and the children are on holiday, the family and I are off to Valencia for some quiet time. Would anyone like to come along?
Also, a friend of mine, Father Kilpatrick, suggested that I go with him to Vatican City next month. He is helping me finish up my thesis, and he has been a wonderful advisor over the years. He isn't in the know, as far as I know. He simply has certain opinions on the danger of fanaticism that are in line with mine. Of course, the second he suggested I go with him to Vatican City, I might have made a flimsy excuse and run away from him and then called up Saul to have Dead Meat check him out. He was clean, by the way. But I refuse to go back to that place.
I think spending three weeks in a hole under the ground of someplace would do that to anyone.
So...I suppose my rather obvious and rambling point is that travelling does not equal the Templar. Well. That and I have issues, but who is surprised there?
As soon as certain familial obligations negate themselves and the children are on holiday, the family and I are off to Valencia for some quiet time. Would anyone like to come along?
