Thursday ...yum!

-I look like Christopher-

The Red Bucket. There's more!!! For the writer guild

Once upon a time there was a red bucket, this bucket belonged to a young woman who lived in a simple cottage between the village and the mountains. The village is of no great importance except it was the last one before you reached the mountains, the road however that went past the young woman's house would normally be considered of great importance because it went from one end of the country to the other, but this fact is of little us to us for as I have said our story is about a red bucket. Our story begins on an Autumn day when the hillsides were painted in brilliant colors. It had been raining and the roof of the cottage had a leak, so the young woman setup the red bucket to catch the leak. At the first peering of the sun up to the roof she went to see if she could fix it. The clouds created drama in the vast sky, and the rain made the world seem polished as if for a special occasion. The young woman took in the whole scene with a satisfied grin. There were few things she enjoyed more then standing on her thatched roof looking at (what seemed) the whole world. Only one thing marred the beauty and that was the blue smoke rising from the woods. A noise from below woke her from her thoughts.
"Hello Madam" You might have been surprised, dear reader, by what this unknown man looked like, for from head to toe with only his face showing he was wearing buckets of all different size and color, he wore it like some men wear armer, outside their clothes yet so bulky you can't really tell anything about the man inside except his hight. Cordelia (for that was the young woman's name) wasn't startled about his appearance only at him appearing.
"I was walking by and couldn't help but wonder if you need assistance down from your roof." Cordelia explained she was perfectly fine, merely fixing a leak ing her roof. Personally I haven't the lest idea how one would fix a leak in a thatch roof, and I don't know if Cordelia really knew what she was doing, and won't know because the bucket man insisted on doing it himself. Up he climbed (it was quite the clamor) to see what could be done. During the course of conversation he introduced himself, his name was Peter and he was a guard against the Blue Trolls. As anyone from that country wold be able to tell because of the buckets. Peter said he was sent out because some trolls had been seen at neighboring villages. Then Cordelia pointed out the blue smoke she had seen rising from the woods. After an appropriate amount of time he declared the roof fixed. Climbed down and headed on his way. Before he left he told Cordelia to be extra carful.

Now is a good time to clear up confusion about Blue Trolls. Blue Trolls are not blue. Their favorite color is blue so they always wear it. Their fire has blue smoke, and in the mud they leave blue footprints. Those are the main reasons why they are called Blue Trolls.

A week later the bucket man returned to the area of Cordelia's cottage and thought he would stop in to see if everything was fine. As he neared the cottage his face fell. It had rained the night before and in the mud were blue footprints. With each step towards the house it seemed another set joined them. When he reached the cottage itself it was completely surrounded by blue mud there where so many footprints. He ran inside and of course she wasn't there, franticly he looked around, his eyes landed on the red bucket, he grabbed it (though he was in a hurry he did notice the bucket was placed under the leak and that it was empty) and ran.

Following Blue Trolls after it rains is rather easy, but always dangerous. Into the woods the blue prints lead him. He ran deeper and deeper into the woods, they became so think he had to take off the buckets just so he could fit between the trees, he kept only the red bucket and the one on his own head. Then he was there, at their village (if such structures could be called buildings). There wasn't a troll in sight, but oddly all the footprints lead in the same direction, to the center of town. You might (just might) remember from the stories you heard when you were little that Blue Trolls enjoy having cats as pets (which explains all the cats that go missing by the mountains) Peter started coving himself with cats, so many cats that he looked like a ball of fluff. They clung on with their sharp claws, yowling and hissing. In such a state Peter entered the Green.

It was full of Blue Trolls, young and old all gathered to celebrate Great Great Great Grandma Blue Troll's birthday. In the center of the stage he saw what he had know and feared he would see, yet now that it was there before him he felt sick and weak and outraged.

Thursday, reading

Never name wild creatures, especially bucks during hunting season

Well he has been gone for over two weeks. He used to sit by one of the buildings, out of the wind and sun, but seeing how it's hunting season and that the butcher next door is staying in business, I fear my furry friend has met a bloody end.

Over the mountains she rolls.
Weaving through the trees,
whispering something to them.
A murmur of russell,
you hear in reply

Down among the grass
she tells her tale.
Then upwards flying,
towards the heavens,
to glide among the clouds

What she tells them
I'm not sure,
but the effect
is plain to see

Thursday, at the ranch

Monday - A Short Story-

I don't remember all the rules, but I thought I would give it a try:

Sealed letters, deceived maiden, dejected lover.

Thursday, full of kids

nothing to offer

It's so odd, being so far, normally I can be there, watch the kids, stay up late, clean the house, but now I'm so far away, I can't hold the crying baby, or scrub a dirty floor, I can't show them I love them by being there for them. Instead I'm hours away having to be grateful for others who are there, and hope that somehow my prayers will make a difference.

Up in the Apple Tree

(must be read out loud with a british accent)

This tree has become
my friend of late.
Only fitting
a poem has been wrote
Quiet and gentle,
bracing this spinning world.
A perfect perch
are it's branches
Oval leaves
fill the tree.
And sweet rotten apples
scent the air.


October-3rd-2008

LOST!

Once upon a time there were pictures of a girl and some of her friends, in the pictures they were sitting on a bluff, the season was Autumn. The girl one day was looking through a book full of faces of her friends trying to find said pictures because she was sure she put them there, but she couldn't find them, so then she looked through her blog. But couldn't find them there either. If anyone (maybe Matthew) knows where they are please let me know thanks.


above photo thoughtfully borrowed from BDT

Fact

When my neighbor is online my internet doesn't work. Same for him.

part of a dream

Today I helped babysit, and this is the picture I drew. I thought it would be fun to share.

Maybe...

Out downtown, looking in one of our favorite stores.
She was crying on the bench outside, she looked around my age.
She looked away as people passed by, so they wouldn't see the tears. What's going on?
What should I've done?
I wish I could go back and sit with her.

Thursday, a search for color

should have been up Monday

Here in the lounge I sit, during a hour free.
The fire sparks and dances,
the music of the rain outside falls onto the beautiful wet leaves.
With friends dear I dwell in peace.
Not that I don't care for matters of this world,
I know all is well, and will end well,
a taste of how it might be.


August-September

Thursday

Books

Some of you may know that in a few days I'll be moving to a land far far away. I have a feeling there will be lots of long winter evenings perfect for reading. So if you all could recommend a book for me to read I would be grateful. Also you get bonus points if you find a way of getting a copy of the book to me. Think it over, you have a week.

Gold painted on a soft blue sky. Kara and I went on a walk from house to favorite house, strolling arm in arm, (thank you sisters don't have to be born into the family) enjoying the autumn wind that was rushing about. A beautiful evening.

As we talked about how are days were. I mentioned I had spent the morning discovering who I am (you'd think after living with myself for a couple decades I'd have me figured out) it came down to enjoying out of doors (sky, trees, water, clouds, elephants...) people, and creating beauty with my hands. As I think about it there are people in my life who have encouraged me (seen the unspoken longing). If I hadn't been for them I wonder if I would be where I am today on my journey of discovering. They taught me to open my arms to the wind, look for the face a Creator in those he created.

Seeing that they've done such a great job now I'm going to watch a moving with people.

Latter

thoughts...

End of summer.
Change in the wind, can you hear it?
Music, beautiful music with beautiful people.
Cookies are out of the oven.
Going to a party, wearing pearls.
Robert played excellently last night,
I couldn't be prouder of the man he's growing to be.
Friends lives are changing also.
God feels deeply, I'm not alone.
Autumn will come with her splendour.

for Zeppo

Dum vivimus, vivamus. Let us live while we're living.

There you go.

Yeah for road trips!

Childhood. Maybe playing in the yard. Eating bugs. Eating dirt. Climbing trees. Falling from trees. Playing "Pretend". Learning to read. Reading and forgetting yourself. Skinned knees.

These are some things I think of when I think childhood. Also road trips. I think I have just as many memories of road trips as living at home (maybe a closes second) anyway they are fun and have a near and dear place in my heart.


We just went to Yellowstone, it was fun and very educational. Here are a few things we learned;

If you camp (tent) with RVs you get the showers to yourself.
Sagebrush taste VERY strong, a little goes a long way.
Yellowstone sits inside a volcano (comforting).
The stink pots ohh I mean paint pots still stink.
Smoky Bear was real.
You can get a car tan (half of my face is tanner then the other).

So you can see we learned a lot. It was a good trip. We saw moose!!!

Hope you all had a good summer too.


P.S. the sun was really bright.

God, U2 & Pringles

FACT 1: Work is a blessing. More work then I feel like doing seems like a curse.

The other day during my use to be to be three hour work day that turned into a seven hour day (Katie I know what your thinking just listen to the story) anyway the day was dragging on, I tried hard not to be grumpy. Lately God has been showing me when I'm grumpy it takes all the fun out of it for the both of us. So I'm practicing just doing the next thing (bird by bird if you will:)

FACT 2: U2 is one of the best bands of our time and future generations will preform "Grace" and "Canon in D" back to back.

Knowing the above fact I listened to U2 & Green Day's " the Saints are coming"

FACT 3a: People leave stuff in rooms, finding it is one of the joys of housekeeping.

FACT 3b: Pringles are my favorite chips (mainly for the reasons we never had them & you can make duck bills with them)

In I walked to a recently abandoned room and what should I find but a can of Pringles.

ENDING: So there I was in the hallway listening to "the Saints are coming" while eating Pringles.

FACT 4: Sometimes God sounds like Bono and looks like the Pringles man

The sky went crazy...

Some days the sky is like piece of music being played by a piano, some days a violin, some a flute, but today was a full fledged orchestra, everything from the string section to those big drums in the back you can barely hear, yet send a chill up your spine.

This morning started with doubts (see even I'm not perfect;) but as the sermon was being drawn to an end the doubts were silenced. After the sermon comes Sunday School (I go to one of the coolest Sunday school classes I'm half the age of most of them and one third the age of the rest) anyway we were talking about kids, some of the single moms were sharing how they want their kids to see healthy familys, and how much any kids just want to be loved, paid atntion to. By the end of Sunday School the doubts were not only silenced but joy and wanting to be used filled the silence.

The clouds are now all wind instruments, but tonight under the full moon there will be fiddle playing.

"Any man who takes up his cross and goes where he needs to go.( he needs to know) He will never come back, he will die."

A.W. Tozer

the cry

if you call out for insight and cry aloud for understanding,

and if you look for it as for silver and search for it as for hidden treasure, 

then you will understand the fear of the Lord and find the knowledge of God 

Proverbs 2:3

March 17th

Happy St. Patrick Day!!!!

Remembering

One of the two memories I have of my cousin is standing on my tip toes in my cousins living room, I watch as my cousin showed me the doll house he had made. It was beautiful, three stories high, every room furnished. The best part was in the little bedroom the doll children had a doll house and inside that one, my cousin showed me was yet another house. Yesterday I was able to visit him and his family for the first time since that day fourteen years ago. They are so sweet and kind, their house was full of warmth and beauty. While his son showed me around I looked for the doll house from so long ago. As the clear afternoon light came through the living room, there was the dollhouse sitting contently in it's own nook.

Light

This evening the high school lead the evening serves. In the back there were unlit candles. They invited us (if we wanted to) to go in the back and pray, and just light a candle, we all know the prayers can get to God without a candle, but there is something beautiful about the glow.

Anyway... the glow reminded me of the All Saints Day. Growing up in a primarily Catholic country every All Saints Day the sky was aglow with candles on graves, placed there by their loved ones.

As the memory of the glowing skies came back, I thought how beautiful if we (the Church) shone like those candles on that cold November night.

Christmas

During Christmas break my cousin and I went to see a fairy tale Christmas, we thought the music room was breathtaking.

the weather on days like today is better when you are out in it- A.M.P.

Thank you God for grace,

thank you for laughter about litter on the freeway,

thank you for a calming spirit,

thank you for a cheering smile, 

for cookies, friends, for the rain & the family I came home to.

sun & rain

Rain falling like light from the sky,
Deep clouds that made me think of the sea.
I could hear the orchestra that plays while I'm asleep

wish...

A wish to go paper boat racing.


Prints of words they were, telling the world
Down the stream they float,
now boats on the icy water
Among the stillness we watched,
our breath white in the Autumn air.
To float them again...

tonight

Tonight we are going to watch "the Bourne Ultimatum" it should be exciting, I've already seen it, but tonight my mom will see it.

Warm in my nunnery...

It is raining fantasist rain out there.
I learned another verse to a song; I have the happy hope that heckles heathens down in the depths of my heart. (heckles? There must be a better word)
Learned how to turn my pocket handkerchief into a mouse.
Burnt my chess and ham sandwich (somethings never really change), drank sparkly cider out of "Tom and Jerry" glass.
Rearranged the mess of my room.
Thought about hope and endurance.
Read the first chapter of "Mere Christianity"

"Her Letter" by Bret Har

After much searching at last I found a long lost friend. Someday if you want me to I'll tell you why I like this poem, for now just enjoy.

I’M sitting alone by the fire,
Dressed just as I came from the dance,
In a robe even you would admire,—
It cost a cool thousand in France;
I’m be-diamonded out of all reason,
My hair is done up in a cue:
In short, sir, “the belle of the season”
Is wasting an hour upon you.

A dozen engagements I’ve broken;
I left in the midst of a set;
Likewise a proposal, half spoken,
That waits—on the stairs—for me yet.
They say he’ll be rich,—when he grows up,—
And then he adores me indeed;
And you, sir, are turning your nose up,
Three thousand miles off as you read.

“And how do I like my position?”
“And what do I think of New York?”
“And now, in my higher ambition,
With whom do I waltz, flirt, or talk?”
“And isn’t it nice to have riches,
And diamonds and silks, and all that?”
“And aren’t they a change to the ditches
And tunnels of Poverty Flat?”

Well, yes,—if you saw us out driving
Each day in the Park, four-in-hand,
If you saw poor dear mamma contriving
To look supernaturally grand,—
If you saw papa’s picture, as taken
By Brady, and tinted at that,
You’d never suspect he sold bacon
And flour at Poverty Flat.

And yet, just this moment, when sitting
In the glare of the grand chandelier,—
In the bustle and glitter befitting
The “finest soiree of the year,”—
In the mists of a gaze de Chambery,
And the hum of the smallest of talk,—
Somehow, Joe, I thought of the “Ferry,”
And the dance that we had on “The Fork;”

Of Harrison’s barn, with its muster
Of flags festooned over the wall;
Of the candles that shed their soft lustre
And tallow on head-dress and shawl;
Of the steps that we took to one fiddle,
Of the dress of my queer vis-a-vis;
And how I once went down the middle
With the man that shot Sandy McGee;

Of the moon that was quietly sleeping
On the hill, when the time came to go;
Of the few baby peaks that were peeping
From under their bedclothes of snow;
Of that ride—that to me was the rarest;
Of—the something you said at the gate.
Ah! Joe, then I wasn’t an heiress
To “the best-paying lead in the State.”

Well, well, it’s all past; yet it’s funny
To think, as I stood in the glare
Of fashion and beauty and money,
That I should be thinking, right there,
Of some one who breasted high water,
And swam the North Fork, and all that,
Just to dance with old Folinsbee’s daughter,
The Lily of Poverty Flat.

But goodness! what nonsense I’m writing!
(Mamma says my taste still is low),
Instead of my triumphs reciting,
I’m spooning on Joseph,—heigh-ho!
And I’m to be “finished” by travel,—
Whatever’s the meaning of that.
Oh, why did papa strike pay gravel
In drifting on Poverty Flat?

Good-night!—here’s the end of my paper;
Good-night!—if the longitude please,—
For maybe, while wasting my taper,
Your sun’s climbing over the trees.
But know, if you haven’t got riches,
And are poor, dearest Joe, and all that,
That my heart’s somewhere there in the ditches,
And you’ve struck it,—on Poverty Flat.

Library of Congress

Thanks to my other brother, I was able to find out the following, this was taken straight from their web sight

1. What is the Library of Congress?

The Library serves as the research arm of Congress and is recognized as the national library of the United States. Its collections comprise the world's most comprehensive record of human creativity and knowledge. Open to those above high school age without charge or special permission, it is the world's largest library and a great resource to scholars and researchers.

Does the Library have a copy of every book published in the United States?

No, but it does have more than 17 million books, as well as nearly 95 million maps, manuscripts, photographs, films, audio and video recordings, prints and drawings, and other special collections.

"It is wise to learn; it is God like to create." -John Saxe

WARNING: the following is merely me processing thoughts that have been building up during the last year or so, no conclusion will be reached.

My dear friend Sarah wrote the quote by John Saxe in a letter she sent me the other day, I've been thinking about it, a lot.

The other day my brother was telling me a story about one day when he was a child he was telling an adult about something he had recently learned, the adult told my brother he was one step closer to being like God (because God is all knowing), my brother said what was said had always bothered him.

Today I was reading one of Emerson's essays, it was about beauty (sadly I had to leave before finishing it, but I fully intend to finish it on Wednesday) He talked of how science had killed beauty, how if you showed him a bird to him and took it apart to show him its structure all he would see is a dead bird. He said not until you could tell him what the birds were saying would he believe you were an expert on birds. Then he went on to talk of beauty, he did not attempt to define beauty, but to show beauty by talking of what all see as beautiful.

Today in class we talked about rules of art, and how first you have to prove you can follow the rules before you are allowed to break them.

On the bus ride home I told my professor of me disgust for flannel-graphs, the feeling was mutual.

On the walk home I thought of children's love, delight for life, and when does that delight die?

I thought of how what God made is perfect (far superior to flannel-graphs) couldn't we use to world to show God.

I thought about how I shouldn't use say 'teach God' but rather 'show God'. God teaches you things, but you must know him to learn.

George MacDonald -love-

Last night I finshed the book Phantastes below is from the last few pages.

"I knew now,that it is by loving, and not being loved, that one can come nearest the soul of another, yea, that,where two love, it is in the loving of each other, and not the being the beloved by each other, that originates and perfects and assures their blessedness. I knew that love gives to him that loveth, power over any soul beloved, even if that soul knows him not, bringing him inwardly close to that spirit; a power that can not be but for good; for in proportion as selfishness intrudes, the loves ceases, and the power that springs therefrom dies. Yet all love will, one day, behold its own image in the eyes of the beloved, and be humbly glad."

George MacDonald -Phantastes-

Support Raising...

A word of explanation, my mom and dad are currently raising support for their ministry. This morning Dad was reading a book about how to write an effective support letter, some of the rules were; be familiar, be to the point, use small words. So we put our heads together and came up with the following:

Dear Homey G’s,

Me and my peeps have an awesome gig at a new crib. We don’t want to keep this on the dl, the deal is we are low on dough.

So, if you can send some cool cash our way to keep us from under the bridge.

Awesome.

Peace out brothers,

Your homeys from the WV

p.s. btw ur gr8

Lord Ullin's Daughter

Lord Ullin's DaughterA Chieftain to the Highlands bound, Cries, 'Boatman, do not tarry; And I'll give thee a silver pound To row us o'er the ferry.'
'Now who be ye would cross Lochgyle, This dark and stormy water?' 'Oh! I'm the chief of Ulva's isle, And this Lord Ullin's daughter.
'And fast before her father's men Three days we've fled together, For should he find us in the glen, My blood would stain the heather.
'His horsemen hard behind us ride; Should they our steps discover, Then who will cheer my bonny bride When they have slain her lover?'
Outspoke the hardy Highland wight: 'I'll go, my chief - I'm ready: It is not for your silver bright, But for your winsome lady.
'And by my word, the bonny bird In danger shall not tarry: So, though the waves are raging white, I'll row you o'er the ferry.'
By this the storm grew loud apace, The water-wraith was shrieking; And in the scowl of heaven each face Grew dark as they were speaking.
But still, as wilder blew the wind, And as the night grew drearer, Adown the glen rode armed men- Their trampling sounded nearer.
'Oh! Haste thee, haste!' the lady cries, 'Though tempests round us gather; I'll meet the raging of the skies, But not an angry father.'
The boat has left a stormy land, A stormy sea before her- When oh! Too strong for human hand, The tempest gathered o'er her.
And still they rowed amidst the roar Of waters fast prevailing; Lord Ullin reach'd that fatal shore- His wrath was chang'd to wailing.
For sore dismay'd, through storm and shade, His child he did discover; One lovely hand she stretch'd for aid, And one was round her lover.
'Come back! Come back!' he cried in grief, 'Across this stormy water; And I'll forgive your Highland chief, My daughter!- oh, my daughter!'
'Twas vain: the loud waves lash'd the shore, Return or aid preventing; The waters wild went o'er his child, And he was left lamenting.

Shattered

My brother has taken one of my dreams and trampled upon it. He just told me that the Library of Congress has a record of all the books published in the U.S. I thought it housed every book published. All these years I have been picturing a very tall, grand, old building full from floor to ceiling of books, like the library in Beauty and the Best. What is left to dream about? Where now will my thoughts drift off to?

Today Was An Exciting Day

Someone opened the door for me on my way into the library

I saw on old book, inside there was a poem about a highland lord and his bride it was sad but.... (man, I wanted to say beautiful then I started thinking about what does the word beautiful mean, now I don't know what adjective to use!)

In class we treated our own roll of film, my hands still feel and smell like fixer and my head still aches but it was really exciting,

While in the pitch black we talked about Wait Until Dark and Charades,

Aimee called, just to talk.

It rained sunshine today

At dinner I got use chopsticks

Daniell mad egg rolls

I danced with Tim on the sidewalk in the rain, he did the box step.

I got my homework done for the day

Next I am going to read some P&P

Katie is coming over tonight, we are going to watch a movie.

sigh~ the sunset was gorgeous

Unreal

The other day the sky laid close to the earth in a gray sheet. I was on my way to school when I saw something that made me wonder; A middle age, respectable looking women was sitting at a bus stop, she had her bag sitting next to her with what seemed to be a pile of rages on top. (part of this that made it so unreal feeling was I was inside a bus across the street, so I couldn't here her) She was very agitated about something, she was talking and crying (the way people sometimes do when they are sad but also mad so they let you know why they are upset), also she was smoking a lot. I was trying to figure out who she was talking to because there was nobody beside her, she kept touching the rages, she picked them up and held them to her chest, kissed them, set them back down. About this time she picked them up again and I realized part of the mystery: The rags were in fact a rag doll, like ones that I have, and it was the doll she was talking too. The answers to those questions presents a bigger question: Why would a grown respectable women be pouring her heart out to a rag doll while she is smoking waiting for a bus? Was the doll hers from childhood? Is the women crazy? Did it belong to someone that she loved who is now dead? Has she always ridden the bus or did that start lately, same with the cigarettes did she just start, is she smoking more now? Why is it she only has the doll to talk to? Oh yeah remember this is just a glimpse of someones real life tonight she is somewhere out there in this big dark world.

Psalms 77

This last summer God was teaching me some things. One of them being; rejoicing in him purely because he is God, not because of the peace he can give me, or joy, or any other reason except that he is God. A few days ago while I was reading I came across this passage this writer had reached all the way to the depths of despair (far further then my discouragement) when he resolves to remember God and praise him because of who he is, it struck a familiar cord.


I cried out to God for help;
I cried out to God to hear me.
When I was in distress, I sought the Lord;
at night I stretched out untiring hands
and my soul refused to be comforted

I remembered you, O my God, and I groaned;
I mused, and my spirit came faint. Selah
You kept my eyes from closing;
I was to troubled to speak.
I thought about the former days,
the years of long ago;
I remembered my songs in the night.
My heart mused and my spirit inquired:

Will the Lord reject forever?
Will he never show his favor again?
Has his unfailing love vanished forever?
Has his promise failed for all time?
Has God forgotten to be merciful?
Has his anger withheld his compassion?

Selah

Then I thought; "To this I will appeal:
the years of the right hand of the Most High"
I will remember the deeds of the Lord;
yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago.
I will meditate on all your works
and consider all your mighty deeds.

Your ways, O God, are holy.
What God is so great as are God?
You are the God who performs miracles;
you display your power among the peoples.
With your mighty arm you redeem your people,
the descendants of Jacob and Joseph

The waters saw you, O God,
the waters saw you and withered;
the very depths were convulsed.
The clouds poured down water,
the skies resounded with thunder;
your arrows flashed back and forth.
Your thunder was heard in the whirlwind,
your lightning lit up the world;
the earth trembled and quaked.
Your path led through the sea,
your way thought the mighty waters,
though your footprints were not seen.

You led your people like a flock
by the hand of Moses and Aaron.

Thoughts about an (almost) Autumn day

Yesterday I awoke to a cloud full sky. In the afternoon I strolled through the park with some friends. We talked about how both work and pain came before the fall of man. We talked about conveniences and how they have helped us to an unhealthy state.

One of my favorite things about autumn is the air, when you walk along under changing trees it is as if your lungs fill up with the richest air, it seems to me that I could eat it.

In the evening we stepped outside, the rain was just ending. We walked about the neighborhood. Along the way we came to three majestic oak trees. Someone bent down, scooped up a handful of acorns and battle begun, every man, and woman for themself.

On we walked night came down to replace the silence of dusk, with contemplative music of darkness.

Friday

Today I pretended I was a wood nymph, then I had a tea party.

Symphony on the Waterfront

An evening of fine food and amazing friends sitting on the waterfront listening to the grand music of the symphony. As the evening progressed the hot summer sun set behind the city. The last piece played was the '1812 Overture' with each passing moment the excitement grew, at last they reached the end and the cannons went off! The conductor turned and bowed; everyone applauded, but yet the show was not over, from the river came a stream of fireworks into the sky loud and brilliant. But then a friend leaned over and said "Look it is the moon." For sure a pale streak of cloud that had caught our attention earlier was now the horizon the moon was rising from. Big and bold, yet peaceful and gentle she rose above the river, city and sky. As the fireworks were yelling to be noticed, quietly she shone in a brilliant garb not one thread of which was made by man. They applauded at the 'grand finale' yet there is something already grand simply hanging in the sky,

SIX DAYS!!!

But who's counting?

All Things Must Come To An End

Soon Evan set out on his boat to the village he had been sure he would never return. While out on the sea there is not much one can do except think. Evan would look up at the sun and think of the lass' blond hair. At night he again would look up and the darkness would remind him of Ella's long black hair. On a clear day he thought the blue above was like the blue of his lass' eyes. His gaze would wander down to the gray, blue and green of the sea and would get lost in it, which would remind him of Ella's. During the days he found himself over and over again comparing the blond-haired blue-eyed lass with Ella. Not just how they looked but also everything they did. How they acted, what they said, how they laughed. Evan thought over it all again and again.

A few days Evan arrived at the small fishing village on the very day the ring was supposed to give him the one his heart truly desired. Evan walked around the better part of that day still thinking over something. He saw the blond-haired, blue-eyed lass walking with a friend to the well. Evan watched her as she drew her water then turned and walked away, toward her home. It was then as the blond-haired blue-eyed lass was walking down the dirt road Evan knew what he was going to do. He ran back to his boat, sailed up the cost, then headed inland.

Finally after what seemed many days traveling (but in fact was only five days) Evan was facing a red door to a very well kept house on the edged of a village. He stood there standing on the stone step just staring at the door. If he knocked at the door his dreams may never come true, yet if he never knocked dreams would be all he would have. So he knocked. A young lady opened the door. But it was not Ella. Evan was confused, he thought he had gone to the wrong house. Then he remembered that Ella had a young stepmother. "Is Ella in the house?" he wasn't sure if he had said it in a shout or a whisper, but how ever he said it the young lady heard. Suspiciously she asked "Who are you?" My name is Evan he replied "Oh... your Evan!" she said with a kind smile "Yes, she is around back."

Following a worn path around the house Evan found what must be the back. Ella was there. She was tending some flowers. Evan stood and watched her. Then he steeped towards her, Ella turned around and saw him. "Evan" She exclaimed as her face light up, then he saw confusion come across her face. "Evan... Evan why aren't you with your bride?" "Ella the merking said if in one year and a day I give this ring to the one my heart truly desires she shall surely accept me. It has been one year and six days Ella will you marry me?" She looked straight in his face through to his very soul and said "Of course I will, of course I will."

So she wore his ring, they were married with her fathers blessing, and lived happily in their cottage by the sea for the rest of their days

The End

Splendid Day

Today was such a beautiful day.

My sweet friend gave me a ride to school, she also gave me Krispy Kream Doughnuts

I taught Kindergarten P.E. (a bunch of 5 year-olds doing P.E. is the funnest thing to watch)

I got to hang out with Batman (who's alter identity is a preschooler)

We blew grass trumpets during a sunny and warm recess duty.

I was given flowers, for teacher appreciation week!

When I came home there was a package in the mail, from my dear dear friend.

My super duper cool cousin called. We ended up taking for about hour.

All in all it was a splendid day. The sky is blue, and there is a fresh spring breeze blowing about the house.

Thank you God for a day that brightened up the world.

As We Draw Near the End

One summer afternoon Evan realized Ella was not her normal bright self, she seemed solemn. When he asked her what was wrong. she replied with the typical "Oh nothing." She stayed in this melancholy state for a week. So one evening during dinner he asked her again what was troubling her. Ella stared at the barely touched potato on her plate for a moment then answered "The other day, I looked at the calendar and saw that is is just over three weeks until the ring is suppose to work. So I have been thinking about what I should do." Evan was surprised that the day was so soon in coming, then he realized what Ella was saying, "What do you mean to do now, Ella?" Ella looked down at her potato again, poked it with her fork then said, like someone who has decided on doing what they know is the right thing. "I'm going to go back to my father's house. I was too quick to leave it. My stepmother was nervous and not sure of herself. I see now that I was wrong to leave as I did."

The following two weeks were a whirlwind of preparations getting the cottage ready for the bride and getting Ella ready to go back to her father's house. Early one morning Evan saw Ella off. She road on a coach which was headed towards her father's village.

flirt |flərt| verb 1 [ intrans. ] behave as though attracted to or trying to attract someone, but for amusement rather than with serious intentions :

I have been thinking about this word a lot lately. Some questions have been wondering though my head. Such as;

#1 What is flirting?

#2 Is it ever acceptable or appropriate to flirt?

#3 Do I flirt?

To answer the first of these questions, I have asked a few different people, of a variety of ages and back rounds, what they perceive flirting to be, the common theme is; "trying to get attention from someone (or someone's) from the opposite gender".

The second question is the one that baffles me. I have always thought flirting was people being too immature to have a decent (as in quality) conversation together. But I have some dear friends who think it's okay to flirt.

Question three. In all honesty I would have to say I have flirted, but I am not proud of those points in my life. When I am with my friends having a good time, sometimes I get the idea; "Oh if I say this and that, he'll see me, and think I am so funny." Sometimes I do it sometimes I don't.


To sum up it all up. I would say flirting is when "just having fun", crosses over into "trying to get attention". I can say from personal experiences that flirting can end in a confused and hurt heart. So I would rather not repeat what I see as my mistakes of the past, for what I might see as harmless fun at the present.

Waiting

The days were now turning warm. Ella spent most of her time outside where she could feel the cool that came off the sea. Her flowers were so beautiful! I think why they were so pretty was she would sing to them, though she was not a great singer, but she enjoyed singing softly while tending to the cottage duties and the flower beds. She would also tell stories to her flowers. Draw your own conclusions but I think any living thing would grow better if it was feed music and stories.

One afternoon Evan finished early, as he walked up the stone steps he heard, through the open door, Ella singing. He stood in the doorway for a minute just to watch her. She did not know he was there for she was not facing him. Evan saw the spring days had added much color and life into her face. He saw she was dreaming of something, and admiring her own hand. Ella was looking at it like a girl will, first tilting it one way then the next. Evan then saw what it was. Upon her finger was the ring. Evan went in and grabbed her hand "How could you, Ella?" he asked as he took the ring off her hand. "What if you had lost it? What would happen then? How could you do such a thing?" Ella turned to face him seeing tears well up in her eyes and realizing how harsh his words had been, he apologized for loosing his temper, but would she promise not to wear the ring ever again? Ella forgave him and promised never to wear it again. When Even turned to put the ring back on the mantel, she added in a whisper "Not until you ask me to."

Sometimes I want to give up and take the "easy" road. Randomly pick a school or a job to do, then some time go out meet a boy get married and have a "pulled together life". But that my friend would only be a life partly lived. Sometimes I forget I haven't given up, I forget there is a battle going on for my life, and for the world. I'm just passive not caring my weight, doing what I could, going out and fighting for the one who loves, and saved me. I'm not even practising. Both are lives only partly lived.

Today was Good Friday. We talked about how Christ actively gave himself to save what he created, what he loved. And then I look at what little I'm willing to do for him, sacrifice for him, let him handle, trust him. Over and over I am telling him he is not good enough to run my life (much less save it) he doesn't realize what I have to do in this day and age to have respect from people, what is demanded of me.

Christ,
You are the only one who can save me, no one else can do it. I want to live a full life for you, doing what you dreamt of me doing, I want to live a life that reflects your glory back to you. I know I often want the spotlight, I'm sorry for taking your praise. Like the Triumphal Entry I am just the donkey you are riding, it would be foolish to think they were saying "Hosanna!" to me without you I am simply a donkey, who doesn't know what to do.
Take my life and do with me what you will, I pray you will give me courage and faith.

At Last! (April Fools)

I didn't want to tell everyone because I've been waiting to see if it would really happen.
So here is whats going on; as many of you know I have loved Ireland since visiting it 7 years ago. Well this fall I get to move there and live with this family I know until the spring! To say I am excited would be a gross understatement. I'll be leaving the end of August! Sadly that means I'll miss the camp retreat at the beach. But on the sunny side I'll hear more tales to tell you all when I return. The family I'll be staying with pastor a small church, and has four kids, so I'll be helping around the house and involved in their local ministry.

Ella At the Cottage

The next morning Evan left to sea before Ella was up. But when he was coming back from the village he could smell stew. He and Ella sat down to very tasty dinner together. The next morning Ella was up and about when Evan left. That day when Evan came back the cottage was spotlessly clean. After dinner Evan asked Ella if she would stay and keep house for her in exchange for room and board. Ella said she would and they shook hands on the agreement.

As the days got shorter Evan spent more of his time at the cottage. Evan realized that the out building must be getting cold as the winter was soon to start. He decided he would build Ella a room. It was fairly simple to do. He just took some stones from the cottage, and the ground (for Ireland has many stones) and used them to make new walls. The first day Ella kept her questions to herself, but the next day she came outside, wiped the flower off her hands (she was making biscuits) and asked Evan what he was doing. He said winter was coming and she would need a real room to stay in. And that he thought the cottage could use another bedroom. Well presently Evan finished the room.It was on the small side, it could only really fit a bed and the small bookcase Evan had made for Ella. She said it was fine seeing how she would not be spending a lot of time in the room.

That winter Ella made some of her own improvements in the cottage. She got candle sticks for the table, and yes the windows did need curtains. Evan admitted the walls did look better white washed. Evan helped Ella make a flower bed across the front of the cottage. Ella put all types of bulbs in it. During the long winter they spent the evenings in front of the fire talking of every thing from potatoes to castles and kings. One evening Ella asked what was in the shell case on the fire places mantel. Evan took it down and showed her the ring. As Ella looked at it, while he precede to tell her of his love; the blond hair blue eyed lass, and of the mermaid, and of what the merking had said. Ella believed what Even said about the mermaid (it would have been rude not to)then asked him what day it was exactly when he had spoken to the merking. Then she made a calendar of all the days left until he would gain what his heart truly desired.

The Storm

One day when it was changing from summer to fall. While Evan was at sea, out of nowhere came a violent storm. Big black clouds rolled over the horizon, and the sky turned an eerie yellow green. Evan saw the clouds and started to shore. But then the wind that was moving the clouds reached him, and started tossing the boat. The waves became choppy. On top of that the rain began to fall. Now it was a full fledged storm. The wind was thrashing, the waves were crashing, and the rain kept poring out of the sky. It was all Evan could do to keep himself from being forever lost out at sea. The boat almost flipped a number of times till at long last Evan managed to get it to shore. He glanced up at his cottage there was something dark at his door step, but he had no time to think of it. He grabbed his nets and carried them up to his out building. Those being put away Evan went on to his cottage. The wind was now blowing the rain side ways. Evan saw the dark mass was still on his door step, it looked like seaweed that had been blown up there by the wind. But as he got closer he realized what it was. Evan bent down, and touched it. With a start it scrambled onto its feet. It was in fact a ...girl!

She looked just a few years younger then Evan, and only stood to about five feet high. She was not small in her features. But her eyes, a book could be written about her eyes alone, they were green, gray and deep blue all at once, looking into them was like looking out at sea, always the same, yet always different, and always feeling something deeper then you could see. It was her hair that had covered her, it was dark brown almost black, and its length went all the way down to her knees. “Oh I am sorry," she exclaimed "I was lost and it started raining, I thought if I was by the house it would block some of the wind. But I will move on now if you wish." "No, no come in at least till the rain stops." So Evan started a fire in the hearth, and gave the girl some blankets to wrap herself in for she was drenched to her core. She attempted to say more but she was coughing so much Evan stopped her and said she was in no condition to say anything till she had something warm inside her. He gave her some hot broth then let her tell her tale this is what she said;

"Well my name is Ella. I am the daughter of a man who lives about three day’s trip inland. My mother died when I was just a wee lass. Two months ago my father married a lady just a few years older then myself. When they wedded I was excited, I thought everything would be splendid. But she has turned out to be extremely mean and selfish. At last I could not take it any longer, so I left my fathers house, determined never to return while his new wife lived. I had no real plan of what I was going to do, I just started walking. I have been wandering a few days now. When I saw your cottage I thought it might shelter me from the storm."

While Evan listened to the girl he saw she was in no condition to keep 'wondering the world'. She had been coughing and looked like she had not eaten for the past week. "That is a sad story indeed but what shall be done now?" he asked Ella. She looked out the window mournfully "Well I suppose I will be leaving now that the rain has stopped." Evan also looked out the window the wind was still thrashing the land, and clouds of charcoal tint were still overhead. "But only to soon start again, you are not well, stay here until you get better I have an out building that is dry and out of the wind there you will be warm" Ella agreed to it. It was a good little building no cracks in the wall, and a well thatched roof over head, and if you don't mind the smell of fish, it would be quiet ideal.

“Look to the heathen with out Christ, and you will find an alter... and may God help you to be a sacrifice.” -Biship Hill

The Land of the Merpeople

One summer day when the sea was as still as glass. Evan was pulling in his nets, when the scales of a fish caught his eye. It looked like it was made with emeralds with some rubies and sapphires. Then Evan realized it must be a mermaid. Sure enough it was. "Please," the young mermaid pleaded. "Please let me go, my father is the king of the merpeople. He can give you anything you desire from his treasure room full of hidden things of the sea. If you will just let me go free!" See in those days they would put merpeople in the circus if they happened into a fishermen's nets. "Of course I will let you go free. Though the treasure my heat desires your father could not have.” said Evan in such an empty hearted way it lead the mermaid to inquire what it was he longed for. Evan told her of the blond hair, blue-eyed lass, and how she laughed at the love he offered her. The mermaid wishing she could do something for Evan, told him her father might be able to help. So Evan swam with the mermaid down to the heart of the sea, to the land of the merking. What Evan saw was more then hard for him to believe. There were houses made of shells of every kind of shape. He saw merpeople of so many different ages, and they all had gems on them. Evan found himself wondering if the merpeople put the gems on them selves or if the gems came from he merpeople. Then when Evan thought he could not see anything more dazzling there it was, a palace made of pearls, pink pearls, black pearls, white pearls, to sum it up it was grand. They went though the gates and the large front door. The mermaid led Evan into a grand hall, at the end of the hall was a very stately and wise merman, and it was the king. When the king saw the mermaid he was overjoyed "Daughter of mine, I am so glad you are safe. What happened to you? I sent the guards out to search the whole sea and they could not find you." " I was foolish enough to get caught in a fishing net. But the man who caught me was kind enough to let me go. I have brought the man here, I thought you would want to meet him." Evan and the merking joined hands. The merking ask if he could give Evan something to show his thanks. The mermaid spoke up and said Evan had a problem she thought he could help Evan with. Evan told the king of the blond hair, blue-eyed lass he loved. The king thought for a moment then left, when he came back, in his hand he held a box made of shells. He handed it to Evan and told him to open it. Inside was a coral ring, and on the coral ring was set a pearl. Evan gasped, then asked what good a ring would do if he had no one to give it to? The king explained it was a magical ring. That in one-year and a day if he gave it to the one his heart truly desired she would surely accept him. Evan thanked the merking for his gift. The mermaid showed Evan the way back to his boat. When Evan got to shore, he pulled his nets in, and went up to the cottage. Evan reached into his pocket and pulled out the shell case, and inside, yes the ring was still there. Evan wondered how a ring could help him. He closed the case and put it on top of the fireplace mantel. Evan though he had a magical ring given to him by the merking, he still had to eat, so fish he kept catching, tending his nets, and so on like I have said before.

Blue Eyes

A long time ago in the land across the sea on the southern coast of Ireland was a fishing village. There lived a young man; he was of sturdy build with black hair and eyes. His name was Evan. In that village also lived a girl with blond hair and blue eyes. Evan for some time had fancied this blond hair blue eyed lass more then any other girl he knew. One day he got up the courage to tell her how he felt. When he did tell the blond hair blue eyed lass, she just laughed, called him a silly boy, turned and left. Evan could not bear being in the village any longer, so he put what few things he had to call his own in to his boat and sailed up the coast till he came to shores he did not know. There on the side of the hill close to the sea Evan got a cottage. He spent his days there quietly. Getting up. Having breakfast. Going out in his boat. Coming back to shore. Bring in the nets. Go to the nearest village to sell his fish. Come back. Tend the nets. Have dinner. Go to bed. Then do it all over again the next day…

Where is Midsummer?

I'm trying not to be seen, but can you see me?

"The Purple Cow" Reflections on a Mythic Beast

I never saw a Purple Cow;
I never hope to See One;
But I can Tell you Anyhow,
I'd rather See than Be One.
Gelett Burgess

I have always enjoyed this poem but it is a little odd( but just a little). I think there might be a hidden meaning somewhere in this poem. Maybe if we took all the capital letters it would tell us some truth; I P C I S O B T A S B O humm... interesting what does this mean?

Post Script: If anyone wants to give me a Milka bar I would be totally alright with that.

I had thought better of you

Has anyone read the "Lady of Shalott" by Alfred Lord Tennyson? Due to the lack, no the complete absence of any comments what so ever, I am lead to think none of you have read it! How can this be? Do not let the size daunt you. All in all it is less then a page of writing. And (yes, I did just start a sentence with a conjunction; they do it in the Bible all the time) it has a great painting inspired by the poem. What more can I say?

Books I have read Since the Spring

Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury
I had heard about this book for years. I didn't want to read it because I had been told it is about a society that no longer reads, I thought the book would try to make me feel guilty about reading, but instead it was very thought provoking. If you still doubt whether or not you should read this book consider this in the book there is a girl who walks in rain, and enjoys it. Now I have you convinced I'm sure.

The Great Divorce by C.S.Lewis
One of the books I have read more then once. Made me question my own motives for love, what love is and how I view greatness.

Prince Caspian by C.S.Lewis
As a child my father would read out loud to us almost every evening. I think he read the Chronicles of Narnia out loud at least two times through. So I thought that I knew the books, and haven't read any of them (except the Horse and the His Boy my favorite since the first time I heard it). but one day a friend said " You haven't read them for yourself ?" Well I decided to start with Prince Caspian. I enjoyed it more then I thought I would (that means I like it a lot) and to my surprise there seemed to be much more in the book then I remembered.

The Light Princess by George McDonald
I had heard about George McDonald about how he was very influential in C.S.L. life so when I saw this story written by him I was eager to read it. It was a beautiful story of sacrificial love told in a creative way.

The Golden Key by Georg McDonald
This book is also written well. Written by someone who is not ashamed of the fact he is a dreamer. But I think I need to read it again.

The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett
For years (ever first seeing the movie when I was seven) this has been one of my favorite books, but I had never read it till this last winter.

Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie
Through my friend Zeppo I was inspired to read this. All summer people kept asking if they could borrower his copy, so I thought 'Maybe I should read this book'. Here again we have another dreamer who dares to dream.

The Man Who Was Thursday by G.K. Chesterton
I read this book first a few years ago and I really did not like it. It seemed like a bunch of nonsense. It did not have a point to it what so ever. Every one I meat though disagreed with me. So this last fall I thought I should read it again. I am glad I did. It now made so much sense. It is a story of order verse chaos.

Mansfield Park by Jane Austen
Aah why us it that the good boy the good girl likes, likes the bad girl, and the bad boy likes the good girl. A true Jane Austen observation on human beings.

Ladies in White

The Lady of Shalott by Alfred Lord Tennyson

On either side the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye,
That clothe the wold and meet the sky;
And through the field the road run by
To many-tower'd Camelot;
And up and down the people go,
Gazing where the lilies blow
Round an island there below,
The island of Shalott.

Willows whiten, aspens quiver,
Little breezes dusk and shiver
Through the wave that runs for ever
By the island in the river
Flowing down to Camelot.
Four grey walls, and four grey towers,
Overlook a space of flowers,
And the silent isle imbowers
The Lady of Shalott.

By the margin, willow veil'd,
Slide the heavy barges trail'd
By slow horses; and unhail'd
The shallop flitteth silken-sail'd
Skimming down to Camelot:
But who hath seen her wave her hand?
Or at the casement seen her stand?
Or is she known in all the land,
The Lady of Shalott?

Only reapers, reaping early,
In among the bearded barley
Hear a song that echoes cheerly
From the river winding clearly;
Down to tower'd Camelot;
And by the moon the reaper weary,
Piling sheaves in uplands airy,
Listening, whispers, " 'Tis the fairy
The Lady of Shalott."

There she weaves by night and day
A magic web with colours gay.
She has heard a whisper say,
A curse is on her if she stay
To look down to Camelot.
She knows not what the curse may be,
And so she weaveth steadily,
And little other care hath she,
The Lady of Shalott.

And moving through a mirror clear
That hangs before her all the year,
Shadows of the world appear.
There she sees the highway near
Winding down to Camelot;
There the river eddy whirls,
And there the surly village churls,
And the red cloaks of market girls
Pass onward from Shalott.

Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,
An abbot on an ambling pad,
Sometimes a curly shepherd lad,
Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad
Goes by to tower'd Camelot;
And sometimes through the mirror blue
The knights come riding two and two.
She hath no loyal Knight and true,
The Lady of Shalott.

But in her web she still delights
To weave the mirror's magic sights,
For often through the silent nights
A funeral, with plumes and lights
And music, went to Camelot;
Or when the Moon was overhead,
Came two young lovers lately wed.
"I am half sick of shadows," said
The Lady of Shalott.

A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,
He rode between the barley sheaves,
The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves,
And flamed upon the brazen greaves
Of bold Sir Lancelot.
A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd
To a lady in his shield,
That sparkled on the yellow field,
Beside remote Shalott.

The gemmy bridle glitter'd free,
Like to some branch of stars we see
Hung in the golden Galaxy.
The bridle bells rang merrily
As he rode down to Camelot:
And from his blazon'd baldric slung
A mighty silver bugle hung,
And as he rode his armor rung
Beside remote Shalott.

All in the blue unclouded weather
Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather,
The helmet and the helmet-feather
Burn'd like one burning flame together,
As he rode down to Camelot.
As often thro' the purple night,
Below the starry clusters bright,
Some bearded meteor, burning bright,
Moves over still Shalott.

His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd;
On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode;
From underneath his helmet flow'd
His coal-black curls as on he rode,
As he rode down to Camelot.
From the bank and from the river
He flashed into the crystal mirror,
"Tirra lirra," by the river
Sang Sir Lancelot.

She left the web, she left the loom,
She made three paces through the room,
She saw the water-lily bloom,
She saw the helmet and the plume,
She look'd down to Camelot.
Out flew the web and floated wide;
The mirror crack'd from side to side;
"The curse is come upon me," cried
The Lady of Shalott.

In the stormy east-wind straining,
The pale yellow woods were waning,
The broad stream in his banks complaining.
Heavily the low sky raining
Over tower'd Camelot;
Down she came and found a boat
Beneath a willow left afloat,
And around about the prow she wrote
The Lady of Shalott.

And down the river's dim expanse
Like some bold seer in a trance,
Seeing all his own mischance --
With a glassy countenance
Did she look to Camelot.
And at the closing of the day
She loosed the chain, and down she lay;
The broad stream bore her far away,
The Lady of Shalott.

Lying, robed in snowy white
That loosely flew to left and right --
The leaves upon her falling light --
Thro' the noises of the night,
She floated down to Camelot:
And as the boat-head wound along
The willowy hills and fields among,
They heard her singing her last song,
The Lady of Shalott.

Heard a carol, mournful, holy,
Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,
Till her blood was frozen slowly,
And her eyes were darkened wholly,
Turn'd to tower'd Camelot.
For ere she reach'd upon the tide
The first house by the water-side,
Singing in her song she died,
The Lady of Shalott.

Under tower and balcony,
By garden-wall and gallery,
A gleaming shape she floated by,
Dead-pale between the houses high,
Silent into Camelot.
Out upon the wharfs they came,
Knight and Burgher, Lord and Dame,
And around the prow they read her name,
The Lady of Shalott.

Who is this? And what is here?
And in the lighted palace near
Died the sound of royal cheer;
And they crossed themselves for fear,
All the Knights at Camelot;
But Lancelot mused a little space
He said, "She has a lovely face;
God in his mercy lend her grace,
The Lady of Shalott."

Snow

It snowed today! A bunch of us went sledding on our volcano, with baking trays. Needles to say we had a good time. No one went full on into a tree or a car so I say it well.

25 Things I Would Like to Do Before I Die

I only ever liked the game tag when someone else was it and they were slow, because I didn't like being it, at all. The thoughts you are about to read are in no particular order, I hope you enjoy.

1. Ride an elephant in India.
2. Sail the seven seas.
3. Put my ear to the earth and hear the music it makes to glorify the one who created it.
4. Have a picnic on the Edge of the World.
5. Dance in the rain.
6. Marry the man God has dreamed of putting me with.
7. Live in a house with a red door (I know it seems a small thing).
8. Raise my own family of curly-headed, imaginative children.
9. Act on stage.
10. Learn how to and become a daughter who blesses her parents, a friend who truly cares, a wife who loves with the love spoken of in 1 Corinthians 13, and a mother who teaches her children to discover beauty.
11. Go back to where I would say I spent my childhood, amidst the plains and mountains of Slovakia, the old cites of Europe, and the endless tours. "Do we have to see another castle?"
12. Sit next to a babbling brook a whole day to watch what happens armed only with my sketch book and paints.
13. Send messages back and forth with my friend using carrier pigeons.
14. Learn how to ride a horse really well.
15. Live my life fully for God (there's a double meaning in that).
16. Learn a ballad to sing while doing the wash.
17. Discover, then develop something I am talented at, and use it for God.
18. Go to a very formal occasion being held for someone I know, I would even have a beautiful evening gown.
19. Stand behind a waterfall.
20. Walk to the top of the Eiffel Tower.
21. Learn how to use plants for paints, medicine and such much.
22. Give an acceptants speech.
23. Spend a spring day on the bough of a tree.
24. Use one of those ladders that roll on the top of bookshelves, like in Beauty and the Beast.
25. Like Moses did, speak with God face to face like a man does with his friend.

I tag Fidgit. Your it!

Being Honest

I don't know how to put this. Do you ever feel that your soul is old, not all the time just some of the time? That it has gone through so much, or seen so many things fade away? Some times I feel like a grayed haired women in the body of youth. But I know so many have gone through so much more then I ever have maybe more then I ever will.

December 6th has already gone by! O great sorrow!

I missed Saint Nicholas day!

The day every child looks forward to all year long. I'm sure you all remember Saint Nicholas Eve when you would polish your boots so they would be spotless, then you would place them by the fireplace or window, hoping that when Saint Nicholas pears though the window he would see your boots gleaming, and then he would know what a good child you were. You knew that the only thing to look forward to if you were bad were boots full of black coal. The next morning it is Saint Nicholas day! You remember it now, peaking out of your room trying to see what you have been hoping for. Yes it is there your shimmering boats are full of chocolate coins! At last doing the right thing has paid off.

Can you believe it that I forgot to stop and remember this day! Now I will have to wait another year before I once again have boots full of gold.

From the West Stairwell

[The following is a true story. The names have not been changed. No one is ashamed, so why should they hide behind a mask?]

The voices - I hear them.

A group a ladies are touring the building. Just now they went up the staircase and entered the fourth floor. They did not see me. I don't know if they are going into the apartment, so I am hiding on the landing that you come to before getting to the roof. I had to tell someone; I can hear them now, talking. The stairwell smells like grandma perfume. I have wheat thins and my favorite fairy tale book. I could stay here for a while.

Ahh. They leaving the fourth floor; now I just have to wait for the stragglers, then I can go back in to the apartment.

It's not that I don't enjoy people; I just enjoy hiding from them so much more...

"a little wish"

Do you ever feel like you are suppose to pray for someone and you have on idea why, maybe it is for a friend who you think has it all together, maybe for someone you haven't thought of for months, or maybe for someone you hardly know? While your driving, doing the dishes, or awake in the middle of the night you feel like you should pray for them?

While talking with a friend the other night about how he was doing the subject of prayer came up, and it reminded me of ,what I call " a little wish".
That one day when I reach heaven, God will show me my life, how at different times people were praying for me, I'll see how through life, as I struggled with this world, someone was prompted by God to pray for me.
Then from there He would show me all times when I had no idea why I was praying for someone, and what was happening with them.

Summer Days Have Gone, But Middlesummer Is Back

Well, my friends the summer days have come and gone; now we are dancing with the leaves and wind as we walk down the street. As you know I worked at camp as a counselor, which I enjoyed very much. It was hard and tyring, but seeing kids understand something about God for the first time made all the late night and early mornings totally worth it. I could go on and on about camp, but I'll move on.

After camp came a family vacation to the coast. The first "just my family" vacation in six years. We made a sand castle and two dragons; I'll have to put up some pictures. We also got to go to the "Edge of the World" and "Elephant Rock". Something like 40 hours after getting back from the cost I left at a hour unknown to mankind to go to the airport to fly to Boston, by my self. Where I joined up with Tuesday's Child, where, after we saw the homes of lots of famous people, and the lantern Paul Revere used (you know the whole "one if by land two if by sea" thing) we headed to Prince Edward Island!

It was a lovely time wandering the countryside; two artistic souls being fed by the beauty of Anne's Island.

Now, my dear friends, I am back safe and sound at home. I just finished my first day volunteering at private school that one of my friends from camp teaches at. In the first class I helped some 5th grade boys with math, ugh. I mean, math has never been one of my strong subjects. Then I went to help a bunch of 3rd and 5th graders (all two 4th graders were absent) with spelling, another weak point for me. I also got to supervise recess, and play with play-dough, which is something I am much better at.

That my friend brings you somewhat up to date on my life. If you want to know more we can go out for hot chocolate.

Katie

I miss you a lot also. I wish I could see you more then just on a weekend. You have been so Kind towards me. You have been so much fun to be with. I am glad that... I could list lots of things but what it all would mean is I'm glad you are my friend.
Love ya much, Midsy

Summer

Just a quick jot to say that I am leaving to work at camp again this summer, and I leave in about 16 hours. So for one thought to hold you over "do not conform to this world" what does that look like?

Love

As I was writing today this quote kept coming to my mind, so I thought I would post it.

To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it careful around with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket-safe, dark, motionless, airless-it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable... The only place out side of Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers... of love is Hell.
C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves

30 days has September, April, June, and November...

So what month do you like the most? Is it Novembers winter chill? Or the bright sun of June? Is it April and his showers or maybe May and her flowers?

The Big Blue

I asked my friend this recently, and I would like to know what you think. Would you rather be; The Big Blue Sky or a Puffy White Cloud?

rain

Rain. it is such a refreshing and cleansing thing. I was just walking out in the rain, it is dark a real dark that comes from the sun not showing herself all day and having been set for some time, the rain had been falling swiftly and musically down to the already wet ground. Seeing that it was going to rain I wore flip flops. And yes the rain was beautifully cool.

Dream Job

Now I have come to that time in life when the world looks at me in the eyes ands says those famous words "What would you like to do?" They mean to be nice but when you have no answers you begin to dread the moment, for it does not happen just once but over and over day after day till every one who has ever met (and is over the age of 24) has said those words. So I begin to think of what I would like to do, and think, and think. One of my friends said I should say I want to be a pirate, or something like that, until I find what I want to do. But anyhow I have been thinking it over a lot as of late. I never really thought I would have to deicide the answer would be right there for me and all the world to see. Well now I thought I would share with you some things I have come up with. (These are in the order they come to mind not of most appealing)

1. A Nun, yes a nun but there is a big problem with that I'm not Catholic
2. A Nanny in Switzerland, I like working with kids and Switzerland would be pretty.
3. A Spy, There are quiet a few things wrong here one is I couldn't lie
4. A Gypsy, traveling the land in a big painted wagon with ribbons in my hair.
5. A Traveling Story Teller, I would get paid to go from here to there telling stories
6. Children’s Theater, sounds like fun, but I've never really acted before

So that’s my list for now at lest, well if you think of any thing let me know. How can someone sum up what they want to do in their life with a job?

the Pear that Could have been

Ahh! I don’t know if I will ever try to to do another still life again! I’ll tell you what happened. We were given a big bag of beautiful pears. My dad and I were looking at them ( he was trying to choose which one to eat) seeing one he said “Wow! Midsummer ( he didn't really say Midsummer he calls me the name I was given when I was born unlike all those other people who run around calling me Midsummer because they can’t remember what my given name is) you should draw this one, it is perfect” Indeed it was it was a beautiful golden brown and had a inch long stem that had a dark brown leaf on it. Well I was setting up my room to draw this pear that was far beyond any other I put white paper under and behind it so I could see it better, but I was not satisfied with how some of the paper was laying so I picked up the pear to move the paper and that is when it happened I dropped the pear, I thought in my mind “ oh no the pear is falling, it will hit the ground and be damaged in some way, must save the pear!” So I did what cam to mind I caught the pear. You may say I don’t see what the problem is the pear was saved. It would have been saved except I caught it by the leaf!!! And the Leaf tore! So now no longer is there the perfect leaf on the perfect pear.

How to make one's thoughts clear

Just to let the keys flow. Do you know ( or maybe you are ) one of those people who have all their thoughts thought out before they say something. Honestly I wish I was one of them but often I'm not sure of what I think or feel before I start putting it into words, and sometimes I feel like the thoughts are inexpressible that words are just not sufficient. Maybe this is when people turn to the arts to show, or say what they feel.

Tuesday's Child

I highly recommend every one (except spam bloggers and cloggers) to visit Tuesday’s Child’s blog, Take Joy. Though she posts only now and then. What she has posted is beautifully written and thoughtful to the core. A true reflection of the author. I must warn you it is not a place for pessimists, you might be turned in to a dreamer who sees the beauty in this world and the next.

Ah, Camp!

Do to popular demand I am going to tell you some of what my summer was like. So here I am trying to sum up the three busiest months of my existence.
Summer camp. What comes to your mind when you hear these words? Maybe happy memories of cooking marshmallows with friends. Or it might make you think of swimming on a hot day. And for some it might brining back pleasant or not quiet so pleasant memories of yet another game of dodge ball.
For me it symbols some of the hardest most tiring of times but it also holds time of laughter, joy, being abel to share the love of Christ and being abel to see God work out His plan from day to day.
I had worked for a week long church camp two years in a row before this summer. So I didn’t feel totally inexperienced. Although when I was accepted this spring I knew there was no way I could go though the summer still standing with out Gods help. At camp we had an incredible C.I.T. Bible study. It amazed me how we would discuss or learn something and then latter a situation would come my way were I could apply what I had been taught. Something else that amazed me through the summer was prayer. How when I prayed God always meet me. There were days when I could hardly stay awake and I would pray for strength and energy and it would come. But as soon as I climbed in to bed there was no getting me to wake up.
I don’t want you to think there was no fun at camp. Because it was a blast. From playing great games that shall live on forever. To figuring the fastest why down the slide. Playing tackle basketball in the pool with my campers. To going down the zip-line for the first time. Oh one thing that would be hard to ever forget would be the time me and my girls sunk a canoe in under 3 minuets. See I don’t know a thing about canoes. Well about 5 of us pilled in the canoe and well lets just say I’m thankful for life jackets. The canoe was full to the brim. One girl was standing in it trying not to get wet ha! And the rest were swimming back to shore. Now you have to understand the body of water we use is like a big rain puddle. Though it is a feed by a stream and has a stream going out of it, the water doesn't go anywhere fast. So I am holding on to the edge of the canoe trying to find my lost flip flop. While my trusty Counselor comes to save me while singing the theme song from Titanic. We all got to shore safe with the water filed canoe, got the water out of it, and got to evening Bible study basically on time.
Needless to say camp was full of many unforgettable moments.

This is for all your This Doesn't Have To Do With Anything comments.

Use it well.

Would You Think Differently?

I am reading Captivating written by the Eldredges. It talks about the idea that every little girl wants to be a princess (I don't know for sure I haven't met all the little girls in the world) it reminds me of a talk I had with my dear friend. She said if Christian girls realized the were princess in God's eyes we would act differently. Would we?