Why Reading Is Bad For You

One thing about living overseas in a quiet, out-of-the-way village about 45 minutes from Town on the equator is that the sun always rises at 6:30ish and sets at 6:30ish.  You might have a few minutes on either side depending on the time of year, but really, by 7:00 every night, it's completely dark.  The overseas, out-of-the-way part comes in because driving at night is overrated and somewhat nerveracking.  So what's a missionary to do when the school day is done, the papers are graded, the lesson plans completed and the last piano lesson taught, and it's REALLY dark outside?  Among other things (like blogging), you read.

Let me refer back to the title of the post: Why Reading Is Bad For You.  I'll give you a helpful hint with the picture below:

So the deal is, Richard grew up as a missionary kid in Zambia, and his family experienced the same thing.  His mom chose to read Louis L'Amour books, and she passed the love of the Wild West down to Richard. I have been sucked in to the L'Amour vortex as of late. 

In the latest cowboy epic, one of the characters made "Bearsigns" throughout the book (until he was murdered!) and our curiosity was piqued.  How does one make cowboy donughts?  Never fear.

We found out. Then we coated them with cinnamon-sugar, melted chocolate and powdered sugar.  Delicious.