A book with a side of garlic, please.

I just heard Jennifer L. Armentrout’s romantasy novel, The Primal of Blood and Bone is getting a scented-ink edition. Yes, the pages will smell of garlic.

It’s like Twilight and Olive Garden had a baby.

In the story, the scent repels monsters, so the author and marketers ran with it. A wild idea. Maybe brilliant.

Romance and garlic shouldn’t work, yet somehow they do.

With projects, leave room for playful experiments. Magic often hides in unlikely pairings, and creativity grows in odd soil.

The next time a quirky thought wanders into your head, avoid shooing it away. “What if?” can lead to “Why not?” and then “Wow.”

Just keep your breath mints close.

A question for the ages: to shave or not to shave?

Every man faces the hairy dilemma: embrace the rugged allure of a beard or stick with baby smooth? I’ve always preferred a clean mug, despite a misguided goatee phase.

Sometimes I daydream about life on an abandoned island, sporting a wild beard like Tom Hanks in Cast Away. I think I could grow one. But the constant itching would drive me mad.

This week, I read about Rudolf Martino, the Guinness World Records holder for the longest natural beard on a living person.

The length? A magnificent 3 feet 6 inches.

For perspective, that’s taller than a toddler. And over a foot higher than the world’s shortest woman.

Rudolf has dedicated over ten years to sprout his beard, with no intention of stopping. His flowing chin locks are now his calling card.

So what is your defining feature?

Maybe you grow ideas instead of whiskers. Or you’re known for legendary kindness. Perhaps fashion is your trademark or elaborate cooking or showing up early to every meeting.

Find your thing and wear it proudly.

Go be the Rudolf of your own world.

Every time we drove to Norfolk, the kids knew it would happen.

I would veer off the main road and drive onto a quiet side street. After parking by the curb at 108 Windham, we’d roll down the windows and stare.

Why? That little place was a big part of our story, the first house Jess and I ever owned, where we brought home two babies, McKenzie and Luke.

Each corner holds memories from long ago. The front door welcomed us daily. The bedroom windows watched over sleeping newborns. The yard once contained a splashing baby pool.

A couple’s first place always carries a certain magic and deserves regular visits. Old homes act like living photo albums, and when you park long enough, you’re right back where the story began.

Today, we helped McKenzie and Will move from their apartment. They boxed up their first year together and prepared for a new home.

And one thing I know for certain.

Someday, they’ll drive back to that spot, pull up to the curb, and roll down the windows.

Just to sit for a while and stare.

Just to remember.

Ever showered in the dark?

A new TikTok trend says you should. People call it “dark showering,” and the idea actually sounds peaceful.

It’s pretty simple: flick off the bright bathroom lights and let your mind quiet down. The dimness supposedly helps lower cortisol (the “stress hormone”) faster than bathing under a fluorescent glare.

Consider it a reboot for your brain’s Wi-Fi.

Another benefit? The phone stays out, and for several glorious minutes, you remember what silence feels like. Some folks go a step further by adding candles or essential oils.

Maybe you don’t need a fancy retreat in the Alps. Often life’s good stuff comes in the tiny routines.

I think about it every time.

When the kids were little, we made regular trips to nearby Busch Gardens. As we approached, once the rollercoasters could be seen in the distance, they would always shout in unison:

“Hallelujah, praise the Lord, Busch Gardens!”

I don’t know how this started, but the chant went on for years. Now, whenever I pass a sign for the park, I hear their voices.

That happened tonight. Jess and I met friends there for Howl-O-Scream, the Halloween-themed takeover. As fog rolled across the paths and creepy characters lurked around corners, the old saying from our children rang again in my head.

Yep, I came for scares but ended up nostalgic.

And with all the weirdness surrounding us, screaming for Jesus somehow felt appropriate.

Forget stuffy conference rooms and plastic name tags.

Apparently, the hottest spot to mingle now involves steam and towels. Welcome to the sauna.

I read this week that saunas have turned into unlikely social hotspots. Professionals are swapping suits for sweat sessions and using heated chambers for networking and dating. All under a terry wrap.

The theory… when you’re half-melting beside someone, there's greater vulnerability and connection. A surefire way to break the ice. Nobody looks glamorous in a sauna, and that’s the point. Sweat is the new handshake.

The sessions aren’t cheap, but many see the experience as a “premium social wellness subscription.” I guess the best bonds often start in uncomfortable moments.

Hot leads, literally.

Great Scott!

In Back to the Future, Doc Brown says the DeLorean time machine requires 1.21 gigawatts of power to activate the flux capacitor.

For context, that’s the output of a large nuclear power plant running at full tilt, enough to light up about 1 million homes.

Those numbers seemed like science fiction until I read that OpenAI and Nvidia are partnering to deploy at least TEN gigawatts for a data center.

Somebody tell Biff we’ve entered the future.

Big leaps — whether tech or personal — start with the spirit of “Let’s see what happens. It’s being willing to operate at a scale that feels slightly absurd, both in goals and the energy you invest.

Change always begins with imagination.

Ever thought about that pumpkin on your front porch?

It probably sprouted in Illinois.

The Prairie State rules the patch as the top grower, about four times more than any other. What’s the secret? The right climate and soil.

Many of their fields have well-draining soils, keeping pumpkins comfy and fungus-free. Also, local farmers have decades of experience combating diseases and pests.

The perfect partnership of earth and expertise, from their soil to your stairs.

Often, success means planting yourself in better ground. So, before pushing harder, pause and ask:

Is my environment helping me grow or stunting me?

A defining moment.

As a high school senior, I had a trumpet solo in our marching band show during the climax of the last song, “When You Wish Upon A Star.”

The whole band fell silent, leaving me completely alone under the stadium lights. It was the big closer, with no safety net, and the solo called for rapid-fire double-tonguing (iykyk) and an octave leap to a final high note.

Then came the first performance at a preseason game.

My playing chops weren't up to mid-season form, and when I got to the high part, my lips gave out like a limp noodle. I cracked the note. Tried again and missed worse.

My solo sounded like a goose dying, and I wanted the football field to swallow me. Take me home, Jesus.

Afterward, my band director and friends crowded around me with encouragement. But I was more mad than embarrassed.

Something clicked, and I swore that note would never, ever beat me again. I practiced harder and learned to pace myself throughout the show to conserve energy. And I built endurance I didn’t know I had.

From that day forward, in all future performances, I nailed it. Every single time.

Sometimes the only difference between failure and success is refusing to let one bad moment define you. Growth lives in the space between humiliation and determination.

Or to put it another way, victory is often born from the sour notes.

So now he has a cat.

My dad lives alone and can no longer drive. Feeling lonely, he talked about getting a dog, but we knew the demands of walks and play would be way too much.

Then along came Inky.

When my brother and sister-in-law visited an animal shelter, a gray kitten caught their eye. Two weeks ago he became a new family member. Now this tiny furball spends hours curled up on my dad's lap and fills every corner of the home with purrs.

I read how University of Georgia researchers discovered that older adults who foster cats show improvements in mental health.

Lap cat for the win.

There’s always a way.

The challenge: as a bagpipe player, how do you compete against guitar solos and drum drops?

The solution? “Free Bird.”

Ally Crowley-Duncan is the world’s most famous bagpiper, and her covers of the 1973 Lynyrd Skynyrd anthem have racked up over 100 million views.

As she builds her audience online, her festival calendar stays booked as one of the top-billed acts. Bagpipes didn’t suddenly become cool. Ally just figured out how to make them impossible to ignore.

When you walk into a crowded room, you have two choices: whisper and hope someone notices OR find your own “Free Bird.”

Take what makes you different and crank up the volume. Own it. The world doesn’t reward subtle.

When life gives you bagpipes, play rock.

Who knew a parking lot could be so romantic?

Today, driving Jess to the airport, we made an unplanned turn into a familiar church lot. Back in the mid-90s, this Norfolk congregation played our matchmaker.

They had no idea what they started.

We stared at our surroundings, amazed at how everything looked exactly the same. The building stood unchanged, and the scene felt frozen in time, like someone pressed pause in 1994 and forgot to hit play again.

God’s plan often unfolds in unique places. And that location will always be our chapter one.

So much has changed over the decades, but our beginning remains perfectly preserved.

How can you get better ZZZZ’s at night?

Sleep is like your body’s repair shop. Muscles mend. Immune systems regroup and strengthen. Hormones re-balance again.

During rest, your brain also works as a janitor and cleans out the neuron garbage.

Solid shuteye is critical to short and long-term health, but many people struggle with consistency.

To maybe help solve this, I just heard about the 3-2-1 trick:

• 3 hrs before bedtime, no more food

• 2 hrs before, avoid drinks

• 1 hr before, stop screen time

Sweet dreams in 3…2…1...

Maybe a timer can make you a superhero.

I recently learned about “The Pomodoro Technique” for productivity, invented by Francesco Cirillo.

Here’s how it works:

• Pick one task and commit to it

• Set a timer for 25 minutes — this is called a “Pomodoro”

• Work without stopping on just this one thing

• Take a 5-minute break — stand, stretch, pet the dog

• Repeat — after four Pomodoros, enjoy a longer rest of 15–30 minutes

This simple but brilliant strategy keeps you from a mental traffic jam. And over time, the cycle trains your brain to dive into projects and treat concentration as a muscle.

Sometimes, focus just needs a stopwatch.

Nature is a brilliant engineer.

I came across this interesting quote from Gretchen Rubin: “The bird, the bee, and the bat all fly, but they use different wings.”

This got me thinking:

• Bird feathers overlap like shingles, catching air and turning it into lift

• Bees twist their wings in a figure-eight, like tiny helicopters

• Bat wings are skin stretched over fingers, giving them acrobatic precision

Three unique designs.

Birds soar on lift. Bees buzz with speed. Bats spin with agility. Each conquers the sky in its own way.

What’s the life lesson? Use the approach and tools that work best for you, because the method doesn’t matter if you’re flying.

Who cares if you glide, spin, or zigzag?

The scale never lies, even for dogs.

Cali had her annual vet visit today. Last year, they said she was overweight, but her measured meals made the reason a mystery.

When asked about treats, we explained how we gave her Milk Bones, maybe 2-3 per day.

No biggie, right?

But the doctor smiled and said, “Did you know one Milk Bone is equal to a Big Mac for humans?”

Wait. What? Milk Bones, bye bye.

Fast-forward one year, and our fluffy girl is down 8 pounds and counting. We’ll stay strong for her long-term health.

But it’s not always easy when she gives us those eyes.

A strange question hit me recently.

How do peacocks survive among predators such as coyotes? Is it me, or do they seem like a walking buffet, especially with all their flamboyant plumage?

Surprisingly, their explosion of feathers confuses attackers. The “eye spots” and colorful display make the bird appear larger.

Coyotes often back off when something looks big or threatening.

There’s a life lesson in those feathers.

It’s easy to believe we should blend in, that camouflage equals safety. But the peacock teaches a different truth. Rather than shrinking, the creature expands into its full, brilliant self.

Don’t hide your true colors. Instead of wishing you had someone else’s strengths, master the ones you have.

Your plumage is your power.

Something new, something old.

The new...

Today we piled into cars and drove to an indoor pickleball gym. This was a first-time experience for many of us. We rented four courts and competed for two hours, coached by family members who play regularly. No wonder it’s the fastest-growing sport in the country. What a blast.

The old...

After songs and stories by the fire pit, we watched the original High School Musical in the home theater. It brought back the memories, circa 2006, since I viewed it 5,000,000 times when the kids were little. The showing turned into a midnight party as everyone danced and belted out the “We’re All in This Together” finale.

Pickleball gave us sore arms; HSM gave us sore throats.

Now it’s out.

And Mia and Papa were in on the surprise.

This afternoon, we gathered the whole family on the porch, saying Mia and Papa wanted to share a few words.

Nothing suspicious at all.

With loved ones crowded around, they expressed gratitude that we came together for their special anniversary weekend.

But there was also another purpose.

Papa asked me to pray. All part of the plan.

And I had a big prayer waiting.

As I thanked God for their 50-year legacy, I covered every branch of the family tree… their children, in-laws, grandchildren… and then… their upcoming great-grandchild.

Lightning bolt.

It was the first time the extended family had heard anything about this new addition, and I sneaked that little detail right into my blessing.

The room erupted before I could say, “Amen.”

Some love stories get a sequel.

Today we watched Jess’s parents renew wedding vows for their 50th anniversary. On a dock by Lake Norman, their children, in-laws, and grandchildren surrounded them, each a part of the celebration.

One played guitar. The younger girls read scripture. Another handled the video and special music. As bridesmaid, McKenzie scattered flower petals as she walked in. Then Jess’s brothers escorted their mother to her waiting husband.

I had the honor of saying a few words while the sun slowly faded over the water. We closed with pictures and dinner.

Congrats Mia and Papa! You’re what love looks like.

I can’t wait for the threequel in 2075.