Take off that helmet, check your sword and shield at the portal, and come on in! Yes, you've overcome a variety of perils, many of them large and unpleasant, and have reached my stronghold, where the wine flows freely, fine food comes up from the kitchens in a neverending stream, tales of derring-do and dangerous seduction are told against a background of gentle harps, raucous tambours and sonorous wyvern-horns, as battle-scarred heroes wrestle before the great throne, while the choicest ladies, clad in the flimsiest...no, no, just a moment here. If I continue on that tack, we'll be doing Trekkie material soon enough, and you'll never come back.

In point of fact, what you've reached is the same old page, with a few changes (though not many, other things have first call on my time nowadays), but basically some pointers to some newer destinations, at least for the time being.

Yes, I know, I ought to be Getting With the Program and doing everything with the obligatory bells and/or whistles, cascading style sheets or something like, with snazzy rad artwork and a Seriously Hip sensibility. The sort predicated on ownership of the latest version of Photoshop or its equivalent and plenty of work as a Graphic Designer. Or perhaps I ought to become a blogger; delay too long, after all, and one runs the risk of becoming the last one on the planet.

Well, not right now. Maybe later, but not right now. Life gets complicated, and great changes happen: specifically, I have gotten married and moved to another city, and accomplishing this against the background of new fulltime employment and much else besides (the unpacking is still not quite finished, over nine years on), not the least of which is my new role as Family Bookkeeper/Estate Manager, though not nearly as great as that of Husband/Stepfather. If anyone had suggested to me ten years ago that I would rejoice in having two chidren, one a Civil Engineer in California, the other a married graduate student with a delightful daughter, I would have laughed aloud; now I just sort of whimper while writing checks - but that is how things are. In the midst of all this, and through no great desire of my own, I've become a cancer survivor, not once but twice. What I lack is great steaming heaps of spare time, the sort needed to perpetually tweak webpages, especially the kind that perhaps serve no purpose except to appeal to my own vanity; besides, someone has to keep the Old School alive.

Though I have to admit that I succumbed to the temptation of Facebook, at my children's urging: and there might be found some photographs of my charming granddaughter, Parker.

Profoundly significant, I believe, is my account of our Real Honeymoon in the United Kingdom, illustrated with pictures, which I have finally (!) finished, years in the making and worth it all, as I hope you'll agree.

And! to crown all, we returned to England in October of 2005, and there is now an illustrated journal of that visit, featuring at least five per cent of the photographs taken by the trusty little digital camera (not to mention the video, which I do not yet know how to edit in its present form, at least not without getting yet another new computer). And there is a sketchy journal of a 2009 visit, which is still in the works as of this writing.

Just who is this maniac, anyway? Consult my candid Frequently Asked Questions. Every few years it is nearly up-to-date.

And I can't let pass an opportunity to mention my Service Provider, Earthlink.

Those with an interest in the Great War, or just curious about a little Family History should investigate my very personal tribute to The Old Campaigner.

Contents ©1996-2010 by Mark W. Fowler/All Rights Reserved.

These pages are dedicated to the memory of Katharine Wakefield Fowler, 1923-1997, and Marshall Lake Fowler Jr. MD, 1921-2000.

Last modified 3/6/10