I was asked to make a short list for a secret sisters game at work. We will send inexpensive little gifts to our secret sister throughout the fall semester. However, we only had about a minute to make a list of "things we like." My pathetic list looked something like this:
dolphins
the colour blue
reading
writing
pens
chocolate
candles

No. There are not many actual gift ideas in that list. Poor pathetic list. However it reminded me of my last birthday party. I was joking with a friend of mine about what I should do for my birthday. We decided that I should do a "Things I like" party. Guests should wear costumes and flippers (for scuba) and meet at Barnes and Noble for Indian food and cookies. Everyone must bring a sonic screwdriver and all conversations must be sung Broadway style. Games will be fencing and karate matches.

Have you ever lain looking up at the ceiling? Why does the room seem so much smaller without furniture? Shouldn't it be the opposite? The furniture should fill the room, making it seem smaller, but instead the room seems to expand with furniture in it. And what kid hasn't pretended to walk on the ceiling?

Dinner was a somewhat improvised zucchini ricotta galette... without the ricotta and with only half of the zucchini. I also threw in whatever vegetables came to hand: broccoli, cauliflower, onion, green pepper. We did not have sour cream, so I used plain lowfat yogurt. We did not have ricotta, so I used mozzarella, parmesan, and egg white. It was delicious. I will be making this again. Possibly every day. Many thanks to Zoomyummy.com for the recipe.

I am listening to Arriety's Song from the Borrowers movie by Studio Ghibli.

bookstore

So, according to all of the articles I've read, starting a used book business is easy. I do  not believe them, but I would still like to try. If I start at a few local flea/community markets, I will not have many huge expenses: flat rate for space, business license, and, of course, inventory. Then I would have to try to actually make a profit. I need to find out what is legal to sell. This is, in a way, counter to my dream of someday owning a library, but it would be enjoyable, I hope. I would, of course, prefer an actual bookshop with four walls and a door and everything, but I would also fear it. Maybe I could make a traveling bookstore! A nicely painted trailer with shelves of books....bungee corded in? Or would I have to re-shelve every time that I set up shop? Maybe I could make some of those shelves that I wanted with doors that slide off. I would also have to be able to set it up outside. A trailer just would not be large enough. I will look into the laws regarding traveling book stores. 

Rules for bookstore inventory: 

 1. NO ROMANCES: maybe Jane Austen, but none of those newer, trashy things

 2. Fantasy is my favorite, so that is what I will concentrate on

 3. Do it yourself is probably also popular at festivals/fairs, but I will check

That's not many rules, and mostly common sense, but it's all I've got for now.

I cut my finger pretty deeply trying to yank the plastic loop open on a new spongie/scrubby thing. It is actually pretty interesting, just painful. It sliced through the top layer of skin to the pink beneath. If I peel it back (which I will not be doing), there will be the same fingerprint beneath in painful, sensitive growing skin. Is it not amazing how skin works? And how intricate the creases are? I remember standing in the parking lot when I was eight years old and being suddenly struck by the realization of how incredible my hands were: muscles and tendons and bones and blood vessels and skin and fingernails and nerves and I don't even have to control them all because my brain does it for me. I just decide to pick up a pen and my hands move accordingly without me needing to know which muscles to  contract. It is so ingrained in us by that time. I wonder if babies have to figure out specific muscles or is it closer to how we are as adults: doing this moves this arm however I want it to go. Babies have so much to learn. How do we all do it? They have to learn really difficult concepts like object permanence and self and others and the idea that other people are actually people like us, not just things. And mirrors. That has to be hard to grasp. And the world is big. You can wave your arms around and not hit anything. And it keeps changing. There is this rocking motion and sounds and then the world looks totally different again. 

I'm listening to Facade from Jekyll and Hyde. 

There's a face that we wear
In the cold light of day -
It's society's mask,
It's society's way,
And the truth is
That it's all a facade!  

There's a face that we hide
Till the nighttime appears,
And what's hiding inside,
Behind all of our fears,
Is our true self,
Locked inside the facade!

Every day
People, in their own sweet way,
Like to add a coat of paint,
And be what they ain't!

That's how our little -
Game is played,
Livin' like a masquerade
Actin' a bizarre charade -
While playing the saint!

But there's one thing I know,
And I know it for sure:
This disease that we've got
Has got no ready cure!
And I'm certain
Life is terribly hard -
When your life's a facade!

Look around you!
I have found
You cannot tell, by lookin' at the surface, 
What is lurkin' there beneath it!
See that face!
Now, I'm prepared to bet you,
What you see's not what you get -
'Cause man's a master of deceit !

So, what is the sinister secret?
The lie he will tell you is true? -
It's that each man you meet
In the street
Isn't one man but two!

Nearly everyone you see -
Like him an' her,
An' you, an' me -
Pretends to be
A pillar of society -
A model for propriety -
Sobriety 
An' piety -
Who shudders at the thought
Of notoriety!

The ladies an' gents 'ere before you -
Which none of 'em ever admits -
May 'ave saintly looks -
But they're sinners an' crooks!

Hypocrites!
Hypocrites!

There are preachers who kill!
There are killers who preach!
There are teachers who lie!
There are liars who teach!
Take yer pick, dear -
"Cause it's all a facade!

If we're not one, but two,
Are we evil or good?
Do we walk the fine line -
That we'd cross if we could?
Are we waiting -
To break through the facade?

One or two
Might look kinda well-to-do -
Hah! They're bad as me an' you,
Right down they're boots!

I'm inclined to think -
Half mankind
Thinks the other half is blind!
Wouldn't be surprise to find -
They're all in cahoots!

At the end of the day,
They don't mean what they say,
They don't say what they mean,
They don't ever come clean -
And the answer -
Is it's all a facade!
Is it's all a facade!
Man is not one, but two,
He is evil and good,
An' he walks the fine line
We'd all cross if we could!

It's a nightmare
We can never discard
So we stay on our guard
Though we love the facade
What's behind the facade?
Look behind the facade!

--------------------------------------

I agree that man has both good and evil in him, but I think it is interesting that they mostly focus on good being external and evil being internal. Some days that feels accurate, but don't our actions have as much as "weight" as our thoughts? On the other hand, I suppose the point is that the motivation for the external actions are entirely selfish. But isn't it better to act and pretend that we are compassionate and generous. isn't that a good first step toward actually becoming compassionate and generous? Maybe the motivation begins as changing the way people perceive you, but it can become internal if you try. But in order to try, you have to want to, so maybe that argument is invalid. But if you truly don't care, then why would you care what people think of you? Wouldn't you not understand why people care? If man's good was fully external, then... it wouldn't be external? it wouldn't exist at all because no one would care about acting "good." Well, this was a confusing and silly argument. People have both good and bad inside them. There is a constant war in each of us, and sometimes we, or at least I, do not even want the "good" side to win. I am far too selfish for that. And now I have spent far too long on this.

Today is dry and brown like crunchy grass.

CDs and Crepes

I have a strange system for making CDs (yes, I still prefer CDs). I make mix CDs with exactly ten songs in three-CD cycles. However, my most recent CD had 15. So now my next two must have 15 songs as well. I try to buy songs that I listen to a lot about once a season and not spend any money on music except for these times. (I am working my way towards the entire Beauty and the Beast on Broadway album very slowly.) Mostly I like my system because it keeps me from spending "just 99 cents" every other day on music that I never listen to because I become obsessed with my CD for a long time and listen to almost nothing else. Then I spend a period of time listening to my older CDs. It helps me remember what I have because of the organizing system and also provides a neat record of the type of music that I enjoyed during certain years. Eventually, I find myself listening almost exclusively to grooveshark and youtube. Then I buy more. I usually end up with three CDs a year (I usually get a broadway musical from my cousin for Christmas, so I don't need one during winter). Anyway, all that goes to say that I am trying to pick out 15 songs for my new CD. So far I have Disney, broadway, Chameleon Circuit (Doctor Who fan music), the Hush Sound (probably my favorite group), Matthew West, Vienna Teng and Standing in the Way from Buffy the Vampire Slayer: One More Time with Feeling. I feel completely over-priviledged. 

This was the last (and, to some extent, first) true week of summer: only worked two days, no scripts to write/props to gather/phone calls to field/camp to run/problems to solve, and no other responsibilities. I have been working on my Mandarin, writing, reading, cooking, baking, sleeping (finally!) and just enjoying having no true pulls on my time. I have been listening to the Screwtape Letters again and they convict me every time. I love the part where he points out that our time is not actually our time. This should be obvious, and yet, every time, it gets me. All of my time, all of "my" everything, was given to me. It is a gift, not a right. I use maybe an hour a day truly for my Lord. And this is a reasonably new development. At first, I scoff to think that I should truly use every single moment of my day for God. Am I supposed to never do anything but pray and read my Bible? What about reading books that I want to read or talking with friends about the latest movie or something other than what I have read in scripture recently? Those things are not out of God's will, are they? I think the answer is no.... but that is the wrong attitude. Christianity should define me. I should be a Christian first, everything else comes second or not at all. God should not be set aside as part of my schedule; he should be my schedule. Time being silly with friends and watching movies and writing and reading should be seen as a joy granted to me by my Father, not as a right and not as separate from Him. My life is not like that, but I pray that as I continue to be drawn closer to God, my life will closer reflect this, although I did not explain it well. 

Today has been very quiet. Crepes for lunch, sweet potato surprise for dinner and rice bars for dessert. It has been slow and gentle and filled with a lot of thought and not much physical activity. I have felt kind of sleepy all day. Must WAKE UP! Disney songs would be perfect (I just can't wait to be king!) but is that what I am listening to? No. I am listening to Fairy Dance from Peter Pan (the latest live-action version). It is beautiful and un-motivating in the extreme. Today was the pale yellow of sidewalk chalk after a rainstorm. 

Again

Another semester came and went very quickly. I can almost see myself with the rest of my life divided into semesters. If I end up teaching, that is exactly what will happen. It seems very strange. Having been homeschooled, I have not really experienced the constrictions of a normal educational setting: going to a set place at a set time every day. We had structure, but, if necessary, it could be broken. The beach is a lovely place in September. We usually visited amusement parks or other vacation spots after the crowds had died down and the rates were lowered. Then, after DD went into school, we were restricted. But then I got my license and could take off without regard to school schedules again, I was sucked back into the grating routine of college. I love it (sometimes), but the inflexibility of the schedule is rough. And this is with the limited ability to choose class times! I have never needed to spontaneously drive three states over just because until I definitely cannot. My house doesn't feel like a cage, but the road does. I sit in a vehicle that could take me to New York or Washington or New Mexico or even just a few towns over to -- and I have to take an exit so that I get to class or work or Gran's house or the store or even back home on time! Sometimes the temptation to just keep driving scares me. It would be so easy, I wouldn't even have to do anything, just not turn. I have read enough books (and watched enough friends) to know that everyone goes through this in some form. Independence, spreading wings, detaching from parents, it usually happens during this time, if not before. I have also been a critic of "letting your heart lead you" since I was ten years old. I am also fully aware that I am being dramatic. It does not change the fact that some days I feel insane enough to simply get in the car and go. However, I am being patient. My plans are being set carefully into place, but the pieces of the puzzle are not solid. They keep changing shape. I can calculate budgets and piece together a layout as long as I want. I have little money, only a part-time job, no van and no set departure date. And little enough plan once that day comes. I have a list and am willing to leave a lot to drifting, but I need more of a plan or rather a more solid and defined goal (I sound like one of those self-help books that I laugh at). I want to see my country. I want to shape myself into the kind of person I want to be. I want to experience . I want an ivory tower in the shape of mountains and prairie and ocean. But sometimes I ask myself if this is the way to do it. I like the idea of a brand-new beginning. I want to believe that I can die to myself more easily away from the day-to-day habits and temptations of my current life. I want separate from my materialism and impassive sidelining. But I am also aware that although I am leaving (even temporarily) a lot of influences, both good and bad, behind me, I am bringing the common denominator in all of my sins and imperfections with me: myself.

Ignore

Almost everybody I know has a very definite opinion about how my life should go. They all agree that I should go to college. Some think that it would be foolish and dangerous to go to a secular college. Some think that I shouldn't waste my money on an expensive private college. Some think that I would be stupid to listen to people who tell me to go to a Christian college. They think that it would be silly and against the whole idea of college to go to such a "narrow-minded" place. I should not conform, I should branch out and push boundaries... by conforming to the currently popular chant of diversity. The people I have talked to about not finding many others of the same interests think that I should go to a "diverse" and open-minded secular college... to find people of like mind. ? Am I the only one who thinks that they are sending mixed signals? If I am looking for people with similar interests, shouldn't I look at a college with people who are similar to me? Such as Christians who are interested in small colleges? Some people think that I need to have the full "college experience" meaning living in a dorm. Others encourage me to look beyond college and save money (what money?) for life afterwards. Personally, I could not care less about the "college experience". Gaining knowledge for both practical purposes and just to know it, yes. Some social experience, sure. Having a long and expensive and uncomfortable experience, why? Because everybody else does? For some sense of camaraderie? To learn how to get along? How to deal with annoying women? And Now it is tomorrow and I am not so irritated. Must go finish Paradise Lost.

one man circus

I just had a panic attack. An Oh-My-Gosh-I'm-supposed-to-be-an-adult panic attack. I feel like I am being left behind, thrust forward too quickly, and possibly told to juggle 5 of my favorite knives all at the same time. Most of the time, I just deal with it without thinking. Then I get cocky until something happens to knock me down a peg (or 10). Such as forgetting the password to an important...something. I try not to be like the average American and actually use different passwords for different things. However, there is a reason most Americans use the same password. By the way, xkcd had a comic about passwords that was something I had only sort of vaguely wondered about. Obviously it was one of the (many) things that I should pull out of the cloud of fog that is the upper region of my brain and examine more closely. I shall post here. Several hours later... I had a lot of things that I was going to say today. But now it is late and I am tired. Maybe I will finish this tomorrow. Read Radical!

Drama

Dinner: Barley and Vegetable Saute. Delicious.
Dessert: Oreo Cupcakes (). Magnificent.
After-dinner games: Chinese Checkers, chess, and mancala. Thoroughly enjoyable.
Currently: working on the History of Euria and listening to the Screwtape Letters. Perfectly pleasant.
Later: will watch Tangled on Netflix. Relaxing.

All in all, a wonderful evening.
I wish that I could sketch. I can, of course, but the end result looks like something an untrained seven-year-old would draw. I may look into this in my free time this semester (haha). one week until school starts. I am not ready. I have to go buy my books tomorrow. I just finished the drama camp that I run last week. It was hard, confusing, stressful, expensive, time-consuming, and totally worth it. I had 21 kids (ages 8-14) and 5 helpers. Some were rambunctious and some were quiet. Some loved to sing, and some were scared to death. All of them did an amazing job. Even the ones who stammered or were monotone did much more than they could have at the beginning of the week, so I was thankful. It was amazing to hear them all sing Consider Yourself. 7 kids sang Your Fault from Into the Woods. They learned it in less than 4 days. And did it a Capella. My one seven year old and my one 14 year old sang He'll never know (From Frog and Toad all Year) A Capella. Having practiced it onstage twice. Incredible. They learned choreography and music and skits (Skitguys.com is amazing, by the way. Sooooo funny and nice!) I rediscovered what amazing friends I have. I said "Hey, I'm doing a drama camp in a few weeks. Would you like to give up 6 hours of your day without any kind of pay to help me?" They didn't hesitate. When they got there, I didn't have time to show them anything. I handed them pieces of scripts, gave them kids, and said "go practice this." and they did. Most of them hadn't even heard any of the songs before, but they worked them with those kids while I worked with others. No sheet music, no time to listen to the music beforehand. And I heard not a word of complaint. And then they showed up the next day! They are teenagers! this is not typical! I thank my God, I do not have normal teenage friends! I cannot express my awe and gratitude. It is so humbling to see the self-sacrifice of these 5 teens. I'm tearing up (again). Truly, he who has found a true friend has found a great treasure. It is also humbling to see what those young actors could do in 5 days. I will go write now. Today is the faded blue of an old, sunbleached work skirt.

The Joyful Noise Band and Lava cakes

I often prefer PG pixar or Studio Ghibli animated features to the romantic comedies, British comedies, horror, and thrillers that my friends enjoy. Of course, I also have other friends who like LotR, Doctor Who, Sherlock, the Princess Bride, Finding Nemo, Howl's Moving Castle, the Pirates who don't do Anything, and the Mentalist, so I am not entirely alone. I have very good friends! Netflix has inspired this recent TV-and-movie-watching disease. I have been given two months of free netflix, and am enjoying them thoroughly. Am trying a new recipe from the Moosewood Still Life with Menu cookbook:Tuscan Bean soup. I didn't feel like going to the store (put on decent, non-holey clothes, brush my hair, locate my keys, put gas in the car, clean my glasses, etc.) so I am cheating on the recipe. Actually, I am cheating more than I thought I would be because we do not have any green beans, scallions, or lemons. I could make do without green beans and substitute onions for scallions and lemon extract for lemon juice, but alas, the bottle of lemon extract is just that: a bottle, no extract. I would blame someone for putting the empty bottle back in the pantry, but it was probably me. Dad actually hid the garlic press from me last week. I just recovered it today. I hate to clean it, so I would put it off for last, then wander off and forget about it. Our last try soaking beans didn't go so well, so I am also using canned beans rather than dried beans. Shameful, I know. at least they are organic. Hurricane MiniMotor came through the living room yesterday, and hurricane bake-a-thon came through the kitchen. The result: 6 rich, delicious, molten lava cakes and homemade drums, shakers, tambourines and a flag. We went marching down the street to the Director's mp3player. 76 Trombones! We delivered a lava cake to Punk. Minimotor waved the Joyful Noise Band banner (poster from an old frame taped to a mop handle). We decided on the Joyful Noise Band because there is a fine line between music and making a joyful noise. with our rice-shakers and shoebox drums, we were on the other side of that line. It was huge fun. It is nice to be utterly foolish sometimes. Will explain about my newest tv show discovery tomorrow.

Discoveries and Books

Have bought approx. 45 books in the last two weeks. I have very varied tastes. I bought a dictionary of world history, an encyclopedia of medicinal herbs, The Tale of Despereaux, Huckleberry Finn, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Taggerung, Slaves of the Mastery, Escape from the Island of Aquarius, Silas Marner, Call of the Wild, The Fire Within, Sword Dancer, Herbal Soaps and Cosmetics, Abarat, Run for your life, Taliesin, The Pit and the Pendulum, The Book of Mordred, Dragons, the Thief of Always, Imajica, a book on knife-throwing, Girl in a Cage.... I suppose they are more similar than I thought. The majority is sci-fi/fantasy or classic. There is some historical fiction and technical/research books, but it is mostly fantasy. My new bookshelf is already packed. I think I only have about two more feet of space on my reading room shelf. Will have to ask for another bookshelf for Christmas. Which means that I am making great progress on my library! Eventually, I want to have a good-sized library consisting mainly of child-and-young-adult-appropriate fantasy. In one of my many future-visions, I want an open home/business/something crazy where kids can wander in and out and use my library for free. In my mind, i can see an amazing tree-library (or tower-library, or...) with baskets and shelves full of books and a full shelf near the door with audio books. each audiobook will be on a pre-loaded mp3 player with a basket of ear-buds on the end of the shelf. It will also have a serial number that can be typed into the radio pad in every room to play it out loud. there will also be a couple of computers with a stack of rewritable CDs where people can make a physical copy to take out of the house and return the Cds to be rewritten when finished. I also have a plan for a "discover house." It is a two-story home complete with a dojo/dance studio, stage, puppet stage, costume closet, yarn room, sculpture room, 2-d art room, architecture/fashion studio and, of course, a library. And a paint room where you can paint on the walls. The walls will mostly be covered in white board paint so that the kids can write notes wherever. And there will be a huge kitchen for amateur chefs. Of course, such a building will require a lot of work and cleaning, so the kids will be responsible for labor. It would require a lot of resources, so most people should pay to be a part of it. Just a dream... it has a bedroom suite in the upstairs corner. It is a place that is mostly without internet, cellphones are to be put up in one's locker when one arrives, and it has all the tools one needs to invent, design, create whatever anyone could want. Classes will be available, and some will be required before you can use the equipment, but it will be a lot of free time. There will be boards with new ideas every week. It is a place that will inspire creativity and free Christian thought. At the end of the week, short progress reports or summaries of the week's activities will be due. That is just about all that is required. Ahh, to have such a place without financial burdens.If I could make a living running such a place, I would. I am looking into the finances right now, but I am not certain that such a thing is possible. I wrote a poem about stress a few weeks ago. Today is pale green, like a caterpillar.

Colors

Color is wonderful. This almost sounds wrong, but I am so glad that I am not color blind. I just flipped through a bedding catalogue just to absorb the beautiful colors. I have a jar of colored water in my room that exists only to be that color. It is a lovely deep, light, liquid aqua. I have caught myself staring at it for whole minutes at a time. The best part of going to the baseball field in the evening is watching the range of color in the sky. Even if there is no big sunset, the blues of the sky are magnificent. It last for maybe 45 minutes after the sun has set sometimes. I saw a beautiful scene the last time we were at the field. Most people had left, and it was mostly quiet. There was some talking and laughing at a distance in front of us, but it was somewhat detachted from the moment. The air was warm and dry, and the breeze blew gently. I looked up at the blue-black of the sky, and the pear blossoms were an almost blinding contrast to the sky. The lights from the field reflected off of the white petals, and framed against the dark sky, the trees were beautiful. It was an amazing moment.
I have been looking at house plans, and found this 'castle' plan.

I want a portcullis. Maybe I will upload some of my own plans later. I love underground and tree houses. I also have a plan for a Tower. The first floor is a library. I love it. It involves a ladder, fireman pole, and slide. I also have maze houses, houses with secret passages, and massive luxury mansions. I have yet to create a reasonable house plan, and have been heard to complain that my architect software does not have round doors. Sound familiar? They are common in the Shire... Anyway, today seems to have been all about completely pointless stuffe. Played with my young cousin. Talked to a friend I haven't seen in awhile. Worried about theatre camp I am running. Today is a washed-out red.

Chauvert cookie cutters

I've been reading and listening to the Scarlet Pimpernel, Jekyll and Hyde, and Les Miserables. They are three of my favorite books and musicals. It is remarkable how similar the antagonists are, particularly Javert and Chauvelin. Wow. I just realized that they are both French. Javert and Chauvelin both have ideals and their enemies (Valjean and Percy respectively) destroy or corrupt those ideals. They both become more and more obsessed with those enemies as the enemies continue to evade them. They both adore the government. Javert idealizes and represents the Law, while Chauvelin is the hand of the Revolution. They both consider themselves to be correct. Both mercilessly send criminals to death and lifelong imprisonment. Chauvelin seems understand a bit better that he is not pure. He understands that sometimes he sacrifices morals for what he considers the greater good. Javert, on the other hand, does not seem to accept impurity in himself. However, in the end, he also sacrifices his morals for his country by becoming a spy. He acknowledges that, as a spy, he deserves death. When Percy spares Chauvelin, he is confused, but retains his hatred.
' "Then," Chauvelin murmured aghast, "you grant me my life, you---"

"I am sending you back safely as far as Nimes. What happens to you after that I neither know nor care. You have tried to do me such an infinity of wrong at different times, you still hate me so cordially, you---"

He paused for a moment with firm lips tightly pressed together and slender hand clutched upon his knee.

"You are right there, Sir Percy," Chauvelin murmured between his teeth. "God knows how I still hate you, even after this. You have the power to hit back. Why the devil don't you do it (Sir Percy Hits Back, Chap 39)?"'

Javert also retains his hatred but, unlike Chauvelin's determination, commits suicide. I have always thought of suicide as cowardly, and Javert's death is no different. However, in Javert's character, it is forgivable. His understanding of life and his place in the world must alter if he remains alive. He chooses death over giving up his ideals.

Hyde is different in that he is entirely selfish, having few ideals. He also commits suicide, but his death is entirely out of cowardice and fear of the gallows. He is not a lovable character, but we can pity him and his desperate clinging to his own existence. Today is pale, pale blue like a powder for an aristocrat's wig.

Best Dream Ever

I use "he" because this person is genderless. This is the dream that I was talking about in the previous post. It was incredible. The peacefulness and joy were overwhelming. Yes, it is cheesey. Yes, it is revealing. No, I do not approve of suicide in any form. No, I don't really care. The absolute acceptance was breathtaking. It is difficult, sometimes, to understand that when we die, it won't really matter to the vast majority of the world. only a few out of millions will even realize that you are gone, or that you ever even existed. There was an acceptance of this in the peace and jooy that this person found in his death. I love those moments in life where nothing matters. Pain, joy, family, None of it matters. Those are moments worth living for. Whenn I understand for an instant that I am nothing, everything is alright for a moment. Anyway... here is my beautiful-yet-poorly-written dream.

The End

He sat perched like a cat on the porch railing with his back against the post. No, she thought, not like a cat, more like a tiger. Cats were too cute, but tigers were lithe, silent, and beautiful. It was too strange that this person was sick. Soon, very soon he would be confined to a bed, weak and helpless as a kitten. Somehow, she knew it would not come to that. And the sunset was so beautiful, the pinks and deep purples melding like the verses of a lullaby before melting into a glorious red crescendo. It was hard to worry or even feel pain in the face of such a wonderful end to the day. Peaceful, she decided, looking at everyone's faces. Everyone she loved was gathered around and their faces were peaceful. An uncle pulled out a guitar and a niece pulled out some sort of whistle and everyone instinctively pulled closer together as an impromptu melody quietly filled the air. As the sunset faded slowly away, many said goodnight. He hugged each as they exited. Eventually she and he and their father were all that remained. They talked quietly and intimately for an hour before father sighed and hugged us both tightly. We stood like that for several minutes, then slowly released Victor and went inside, still leaning on one another. I was sad, but I didn't know why then. I think that deep down I knew I was mourning more than the end of the perfect day.

He watched them leave and spared them each a silent tear of farewell, though the deep ache faded quickly until all he felt was peace. Walking down to the fields at an unhurried pace, he gazed at the mountains and stars and wondered how old they were. The stars were doubtless thousands of years old. What would that feel like? He smiled. Surely ants asked the same of humans. "How does it feel to be decades old? I am sure I would not like it." they would say. When he reached the field, he stood and watched the breeze dancing with the trees until the person on the other side of the meadow turned to look at him. Then he understood. Silently they drew their blades. Bowing to one another, they made clear their respect for the other. Smiling slightly they took one step toward one another, then another until they were running. As their blades shattered the silence into a thousand pieces, their hearts were unified and they truly understood the other. The faint smiles grew to their usual grins, though not as reckless as was typical. Again and again they clashed, neither seriously injured though some blood was drawn. The dance continued far past a realistic time period. No words were required for the fierce joy that filled them as their blades shuddered and swung. The breeze picked up until their fierce dance was joined by thousands of dead leaves swirling and leaping. Deep into the night, the moon lit their field and the mountains and stars watched the wisdom and foolishness of these humans. Laughter died first as the end drew near. The dance slowed deliberately until a final fierce clash forced them back. Words finally emerged as they regarded one another. "we have succeeded." He said as the burden finally lifted. "Of course," his partner nodded, "there was no other way." He smiled again. "I have enjoyed it." "But I will not miss it." "Only them." He glanced one final time at the house on the hill, then turned back to his partner. The run was as silent and short as the first one, but instead of a resounding clash, the silence was broken by slightly surprised gasps. Then gently they pulled their swords from the other's chest, staggered backwards, and fell. He gazed up at the stars as his lifesblood pooled around him. He gazed at their numerous twinkling eyes until his vision blurred. Then as he felt himself pulled into relentless, blackest arms, he closed his eyes and thought. It was beautiful.

They found him there the next morning. First she and father came sliding down the hill as the sky once more grew grey and other colors began peeking out from the tips of the mountains. When they saw him from the other end of the meadow, the secret fear was suddenly realized in both of their hearts. Carefully, softly they crept up to look down at him. Tears began to pool in her eyes, but when she saw him smiling gently the tears somehow became unnecessary. They sat with him for a little while, but the longer she sat, the more she understood that this was right and necessary. She would miss him, but she would see him again. And it would hurt more to see him helpless in a bed than to have simply gone on another journey. She even managed a sort of smile as she whispered "I love you." in his ear. Eventually the others who knew him best came wandering down the hill. None of them cried more than a few a tears, for they already knew. father picked him up and gently carried him up the hill as the young morning became the fully-fledged summer day the sun had promised. The others wrapped arms around shoulders for support because the worst was to come. This was his real funeral and the birds played the best music ever heard and the sun draped a golden cloth over his bloodstained shirt. When they reached the house, the peaceful magic fragile as a held breath was again shattered by others wailing and fussing and saying I'm sorry to those who were not. Those who understood pitied those who had not seen him lying in the field smiling. They held the moment like a precious bubble of hope in their hearts for the rest of their lives. For he was gone but the world was still good and he had known it, and been glad.

why is summer white

Why do songs about death make it easier to hang on to life? It gives me peace, not fear; so, why does listening to death songs make me think, "I can do this. Life isn't so hard."? The best dream I have ever had was a death dream. I die in a lot of my dreams, but the focus of this dream was death. It was incredible. I know I sound a bit creepy, but the feeling truly had very little to do with the content, I think. I will give it its own post after I finish writing this. Wathlae s nwe. I wrote a poem several days ago that is better than most of them. Still not very good, but I like it because I wrote it and I can remember my emotions while writing it.
Amazed, I watch an angel
Soar beneath the full, round moon
Carefree

White feathers shone, purely
Light, reflecting wholly
Iridescent

Silently she sang of
Peace beneath and above us
Ethereal

Earthbound caught I never
Realized until she flew
Flightless

Air and peaceful salt-
Water mingle in her hair
Flowing

Wordless (unnecessary)
She laughs, a sound like rain
Pealing (bells)

Pausing before a swooping
Dive, her garments purest sea-foam
Rippling

Constantly inconstant fay
Welcome unchanging sister
Eternal

Together our gazes are
Drawn inexorably up
Higher

The limitless barrier
Of deep blue with tiny keyholes
Vast

Pure, cerulean, cool, deep,
Light, washing, shifting, contrast
Surrounded

The hunter’s aim is true from
Where he hides in crooked brush
Faultless

Her unnatural broken
body stays only a moment
Wispy

Floating limply down from the
Air, she lands as white feathers
Crimson-streaked

I turn away as the man
Takes my angel, his goose, home
Dead

June 1, 2010

I did not realize my angel was a goose until the end. there are several mistakes in punctuation that I acknowledge but am too lazy to fix. (bells) should probably not be there, but am still undecided on which word to use. Why do I get depressed in the summer? Most people get depressed in the winter, and I love the warmth of summer, the green things, the blue sky. I will go talk to dad now. Today is white.
Surrounded by suffocating white
Burning into my retinas
The silence is audible
Pressing in all around
Blurring my vision
Bleaching my sight
Cut off and
Alone
Help

life is good for a laugh

So... I got busy and totally forgot that this existed. If anyone read it, I would apologize, but there is really no point. Only two papers to write/edit this week. Yes! It is so warm! It has been a beautiful for the past few days. It feels like summer should be here anytime, but I still have lots of school. T, Turner, L and I made a music video to the song Life is Beautiful. I was cameraman and poker. It is pretty funny. It took 3 hours to make a 3 minute video. The original plot: Killer kills Sister. Brother hunts killer. Brother finds killer. Killer tries to commit suicide. Brother saves killer. Killer goes to jail. To the song 'Breath' by Breaking Benjamin. The plot once the boys got into it: killer kills sister. Brother hunts killer. They meet at graveyard. Brother kills killer. to the song 'Life is Beautiful' because they liked the music better, although the lyrics make absolutely no sense with that plot. At all. I was just happy that they agreed to do it. We all had a good time.
Life is Beautiful

You can't quit until you try
You can't live until you die
You can't learn to tell the truth
Until you learn to lie

You can't breathe until you choke
You gotta laugh when you're the joke
There's nothing like a funeral to make you feel alive

Just open your eyes
Just open your eyes
And see that life is beautiful.
Will you swear on your life,
That no one will cry at my funeral?

I know some things that you don't
I've done things that you won't
There's nothing like a trail of blood to find your way back home

I was waiting for my hearse
What came next was so much worse
It took a funeral to make me feel alive

Just open your eyes
Just open your eyes
And see that life is beautiful.
Will you swear on your life,
That no one will cry at my funeral?

Alive...
Just open your eyes
Just open your eyes
And see that life is beautiful.
Will you swear on your life,
That no one will cry at my funeral?

Just open your eyes
Just open your eyes
And see that life is beautiful.
Will you swear on your life,
That no one will cry at my funeral?

Just open your eyes
Just open your eyes
And see that life is beautiful.
Will you swear on your life,
That no one will cry at my funeral?


I will try to figure out how to post this vid and one of Nimrod falling in the creek. Today is magenta like our African Violet, soft and sparkly

Not much

I have started a new blog for vegetarians. vegetarianismfortheunadventurous.blogspot.com we'll see how long it lasts. This week's recipes are soups. I am listening to my new Jane Eyre Broadway Soundtrack. I have been cooking, cleaning, reading and listening to my new CDs all day. I have listened to Jane Eyre 3 times and put my two favorite songs on repeat for an hour. I still don't know the words perfectly. Had a TFD except for a few minutes when he came in to spray AXE, also known as human repellent, all over the place. Or maybe he was just wearing an entire bottle. I don't know, but it made my eyes sting and I never came within three yards of him. I've also been listening to my Flyleaf Memento Mori CD. I love This Close, Swept Away, Circle and Missing. And Have We Lost from the bonus Cd. I'm going to go read 'Do Hard Things' now. it's a Good book for Christian teens and maybe adults. Today is hard solid grey. Most of the songs from Memento Mori are on youtube with lyrics.

I had an excellent day. I was talking to James and Ginger about food, healthy eating, recipes, and foods that we don't like. James said that becoming a vegetarian (like me) would destroy his diet. So I decided to post some vegetarian recipes. This one is Cuban black bean and corn soup. We eat a lot of soups. This is my family's favorite. This is a good soup to make ahead because it freezes and thaws easily.
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 large onion
3 cloves garlic
1 red bell pepper
3 15 oz cans black beans, rinsed and drained
2 tbls. vegetable broth
1 1/2 tsp. dried oregano
1 tsp. ground cumin
1/4 tsp. salt
1/2 cup frozen corn kernels

In a large saucepan, heat the oil until hot over med. heat. fAdd onion and garlic and cook, stirring frequently, until the onion is softened. add pepper and cook until soft.
stir in beans and tomatoe paste and cook for 1 min. stir in broth, 2 cups of water, the oregano, cumin and salt and bring to a boil. reduce to a simmer, cover, and cook at least ten minutes. Can be kept at a simmer for up to two hours. Transfer 4 cups to a blender/food processor and puree. Return to pan and stir to blend. stir in the corn and cook until the corn is just warmed through, about four min. Don't forget the corn. That happens a lot.

Today I am listening to Something to Sing About from the Buffy the Vampire Slayer What You Feel soundtrack. http://www.youtube.com/watch/?v=pI_PLAlzWVs I've only watched the first episode of Buffy, but in searches at http://www.allmusicals.com/, (great website with lots of musical lyrics) I came across this episode. A 'dancing demon' comes to town and everyone starts singing as though they are in a musical. It is funny, but also serious. This is one of the serious songs. If you want to listen to a funny one, listen to 'I've got a Theory/Bunnies/If we're together'. Or find a clip of 'mustard'. Lyrics:
Buffy:
Life's a show
and we all play our part
and when the music starts
We open up out hearts

it's all right
if some things come out wrong
we'll sing a happy song
Where there's life
there's hope, everyday's a gift
wishes can come true
whistle while you work
so hard all day
to be like other girls
to fit in this glittering world

don't give me songs
don't give me songs

Give me something to sing about
I need something to sing about

life's a song
you don't get to rehearse
and every single verse
can make it that much worse

still my friends don't know why I ignore
the million things or more
I should be dancing for

all the joy life sends
family and friends
all the twists and bends
knowing that it ends
well, that depends
on if they let you go
on if they know enough to know
that when you've bowed
you leave the crowd

there was no pain
no fear, no doubt
till they pulled me out
of heaven
so that's my refrain
I live in hell
'cause I've been expelled
from heaven
I think I was
in heaven

so give me something to sing about
please
give me something

Spike:
Life's not a song
Life isn't bliss
Life is just this
You'll get along
the pain that you feel
you only can heal
by living
you have to go on living
so one of us is living

If I made a mistake, I apologize. I should have just posted a link. Obviously. Silly me.

The first verse is interesting. The lyrics and body language are sarcastic for the second bit, but you would never be able to tell just by listening to her voice. I feel like that sometimes. Such a wonderful world we live in. People killing each other, people starving to death on one continent while warehouses of food rot away on another, people killing cildren before they even take their first breath. Then I wonder why that matters. Aren't they better off? But everyone deserves the chance to live. Even most of those with no freedom, can choose to live or die, right? Maybe I'm naive and have not truly experienced the bitterness of life yet, but I think that the taste of dove chocolate that I had earlier has been worth all of the life I've lived up until now. That stuff is divine. And there is still most of a bagful left... Back to the lyrics. Give me something to sing about. Dove chocolate, mountains, sunsets, lying on the bottom of a pool or lake and looking up through all of the water, turning somersaults in said water, the feeling of water running down your throat after a run, a student executing a perfect sidekick, chocolate, being quiet, being loud, singing at the top of your lungs when no one can hear you, I need to stop now. Despite all of these things, I still have to remind myself sometimes that life is so good. second verse: same idea of life being a show, a song, a game. Both inthe show and song, there is a feeling of destiny. Personally, I don't believe in destiny. Life could maybe be compared to a game though. We are given certain things at birth: talents, resources, and influences. It's up to us how we use them. We can also choose a goal: fame, wealth, a family, Christlikeness. There are many smaller goals on the way, and your goal may change. But you can't distill life down to a formula. Still, not much should truly be taken seriously in my opinion. In the fourth bit, we learn why Buffy does not love life. I can not even imagine how horrible it would be to be taken from heaven and dragged back to earth. By your friends. Anyway, even when I'm not thinking about all of this, I love this song. funny story of the day: The CD I got Gran was the fourth one. So It will be returned. But RuRu's gift card for Coldstone Creamery was liked. Today is black and peaceful. Like a certain machete... (drool) I will probably be posting again later. I foolishly took a nap, so now I'm wide awake. And just now eating supper: oatmeal with honey, raisens and three formerly frozen cherries. Delicious.

DD and ReRe have been awful all afternoon. Now it's just DD which is worse. I still have no Christmas presents for Ghost or Dad. The slideshow I have been working on insists on making me add transitions between 75 pictures manually. I have seen these slideshows so often that I know the exact order of the pictures. We finally got ReRe to do a serious video, but it took 3 tries. On the first try, he wasn't being serious. On the second, he was being serious, but it was terrible. I won't tell you what he said. On the third, we edited his thoughts beforehand and told him to keep it short. Mine was terrible and didn't make any sense. Nimrod's was perfect (he wrote it out before we filmed). Gertrude's was three words: Hi, popcorn, thanks. Unbelievably DD and Ghost had the cutest videos. MiniMotor was very cute (how could it be otherwise?) but she didn't mention Papa. We did have a lot of funn sleigh riding. Nimrod and I made a really curvy track in the woods. We were walking back up for the last time and realised that it was a pretty crazy track. You start out going down a short but very steep hill, then duck to go under a fallen tree, turn hard to the right to avoid another tree, grab another tree to swing you around in an almost-U-turn (hopefully avoiding another tree by inches) go down another steep hill and brake before you go into the creek. We made another track on the other side of the creek that involved dodging barbed wire, but it didn't work as well. Nimrod started down the path the first time and ran into a tree that was not in his way. He tried again with the same rsult. when he got back to the top, he threw down his sled which hit the roots of a pine tree who then dumped a lot of snow on him. I was laughing so hard that I fell over. I got Gran a susan Boyle CD, but couldn't find anything for Ruru in the twenty minutes I had to do all of my Christmas shopping. Had a nightmare for the first time in years last night. Monster got to Hunter and all I saw was blood splattering against the window. ? I haven't been watching anything gory, reading anything violent, or listening to 'death' music. Which is unusual for me. I have been thinking somewhat violent thoughts toward a certain person though... Huh. Hadn't thought about that. A lot of my dreams are violent and involve a small amount of blood, but not like that. And like I said, they haven't been nightmarish for years. Is it right to refer to dreams as a sickness? I'm sure there is some disorder. ARRRRGGGHHHHH I have to get back to work on my project. Peace! Merry Christmas. Today is artificial blue, like sprinkles on a Christmas cookie.

steppin' with santa

Right now I am listening to Bodhisattva Cathedral. This is one of the few songs that I like even without having a clue as to they are saying. I'm not even sure what language it is sung in. I love it though. It is divided into three parts. Maybe five if you are picky. DD had a concert tonight (he plays the trumpet), and his band did very well. The best part of the evening was definitely the santa though. The 7'th and 8'th grade chorus sang 'steppin' with santa' and had a dance all planned out. However, when the santa came out to dance with a girl, his stuffing started coming out and his pants tried to fall down. He persevered though, holding in plastic bags and his pants with one hand and doing a little shuffling while the girl did her part and tried not to fall down laughing. She did not succeed at one point when he did a little jig. It was hilarious. Dad could not stop laughing. The people who were singing could not see what was going on and looked a little bit disturbed. When he ran across the room after the concert with his concert in a bag, he lost his beard, belt (wonder where that was earlier) and hat. I have been baking for the past two days. I baked over 7 batches of cookies and 2 types of fudge in the last two days. I was very proud of myself. Now I realise that I still have more cookies to make. Dad and I are going to drive to ---- to see the screwtape letters tomorrow hopefully. I really hope we can go and go safely. I have been looking forward to this trip for a couple of months! Actually, I've been looking forward to it since 5 months ago. We even have front row seats. A very funny song: Jonathan Coultan's 'Skullcrusher mountain.' If you type in 'skullcrusher mountain', the first video on youtube is hilarious. Today is glowing straight blue. I like fireflies. Except on my teeth. Or crushed at all actually. Just a thought. According to P. Pete, Santa is a vampire. Google it. It makes sense. Which vampire 'type' makes more sense? Dracula's childishness? Devil's child evil? Or the modern vampire's lonely trek of boredom? And angst? I like Dracula. Though I don't like most of the book. The human characters (particularly females) keep falling to pieces. There are a lot of mythical soul-sucking and/or blood-drinking creatures in cultures around the world. Next time, I'll bring them. read rotten tomatoes on wikipedia. the first sentence is: for use of tomatoes against performers, see ''the cultural impact of tomatoes.' It made me laugh. I have no idea how I ended up on wikipedia from rottentomatoes.com

My cord came, and it works. That was written in a happy tone. Written words are sometimes better than spoken words but not usually when one is describing real life. With spoken words, the words themselves are usually simpler, but the tone and body language can make the words mean almost anything. I occasionally have conversations with friends consisting entirely of one repeated sentence (maybe a few variations). "I like this part." "This part?" "Noooo...." "ohh. That part?" "that part." "Yeah, that part." "and when?" "oh yeah." "me too." Contrary to popular belief, guys do have conversations like this. Not quite like that, but similar. Today, I am listening to Flyleaf's 'Arise' and 'Circles.' I had not heard of them before, but they are an amazing Christian rock group. Band. Thing. What is the difference between a 'group' and a 'band?' For example: David Crowder is a band. David Crowder is also a singer in a group. I do not understand, but I am told there is a difference. I just finished Pay the Piper, which is a decent book. I am not really a fan of Jane Yolen, but I love the story of the Pied Piper. It is one of many unwritten story ideas floating around in the back of my head. Maybe when I finish Rale, (based on beauty and the beast [not the disney version]) I can fill it out a little more. Although I think I have 6 stories in progress at the moment. I probably need to finish more than one to justify starting another. I just got back from the youth Christmas banquet at church. There were 9 people there including me and DD. Last year there were over 20 people. It was not what I expected, but we played 'Pounce' and 'Cheat,' which are card games, and I had a really good time. There are hairs stuck to my computer screen and they are distracting me. Good now they are in a triangle. That is much less distracting. I love the story of the Pied Piper. I've done some research and it seems that there are many versions of the legend. Some say that the children were taken on a crusade, some say that the town was infected with the black plague and the piper was really saving the children. Some say that he took them magically to Germany when they disappeared into the crack of the mountain. Some say that there was a child left behind who was crippled and he would stare out of the window and cry for the piper to come back with his beautiful, laughing music and take him away too. Some say that the children were taken to the land of the fairies, and this is the version that Jane Yolen uses. Some say that they were left hidden in the mountain cleft and remain there even today. They are forever young and wait for the spring when the piper always comes to visit them, playing his music. So is the piper a good guy? A bad guy? An impatient guy with a short temper? Is the piper the personification of some illlness that struck Hamelin's children? Is he human? Fairy? Piper? Rats, Rats, They fought the dogs and killed the cats, And bit the babies in the cradle, And ate the cheese out of the vat... That's all I know so far. Sorry. I don't like rats. killed the cats???!!! Big rats. Today is a dark fir against a pink and purple bruised sky. Evergreen.