Stored personal memories along with handed down collective memories of stories, legends, and history allows us to collate our interactions with a physical and social world and develop a personal code of survival. In essence, we all become self-styled sages, creating our own book of wisdom based upon our studied observations and practical knowledge gleaned from living and learning. What we quickly discover is that no textbook exist how to conduct our life, because the world has yet to produce a perfect person – an ideal observer – whom is capable of handing down a concrete exemplar of epistemic virtues. We each draw upon the guiding knowledge, theories, and advice available for us in order to explore the paradoxes, ironies, inconsistencies, and the absurdities encountered while living in a supernatural world. We mold our personal collection of information into a practical practicum how to live and die. Each day we define and redefine who we are, determine how we will react today, and chart our quest into an uncertain future.

~ Kilroy J. Oldster

Lord Randall barreled inside, brandishing his cane in Drew's face.You beggarly knave, I was told this marriage was in name only! Who gave you permission to consummate the vows?Theodore Hopkin, governor of this colony, representative of the kind, and it's going to cost you plenty, for that daughter of yours is nothing but trouble. What in the blazes were you thinking to allow her an education?Drew bit back his smile at the man's shocked expression. Nothing like landing the first punch.Lord Randall furrowed his bushy gray brows.I knew not about her education until it was too late.Drew straightened the cuffs of his shirt. Well, be prepared to pay dearly for it. No man should have to suffer through what I do with the constant spouting of the most addlepated word puzzles you could imagine.-----------------------------------------I require fifteen thousand pounds.Lord Randall spewed ale across the floor. What! Surely drink has tickled your poor brain. You're a FARMER, you impudent rascal. I'll give you five thousand.Drew plopped his drink onto the table at his side, its contents sloshing over the rim. A satisfied smile broke across his face.Excellent. He stood.When will you take her back to England with you? Today? Tomorrow?The old man's red-rimmed eyes widened. I cannot take her back. Why, she's already birthed a child! Drew shrugged. Fifteen thousand or I send her AND the babe back, with or without you.

~ Deeanne Gist