That is my new name for what is more commonly known as PSEO (or post-secondary enrollment option.) My term stands for Primary Brain-Frying Option. It's free, like most other health-detrimental options...
Actually, I have been doing Post-Secondary this last semester, and I must say I've learned a lot. I've gone to the trouble of compiling a list of lessons taken from the experience.
1. It's hard. Very.
2. Hindus call the three expressions of Brahma a Trimurti.
3. Five page essays can be written in a day. (It's easier if you don't have to find your own sources.)
4. A "B" on a test isn't the end of the world. (I felt much better once I learned this.)
5. Laos is located in Southeast Asia.
6. Humans have three ways of learning things: Classical Conditioning, Operant Conditioning, and Observational Learning.
7. Sitting in front of a roaring fire with nothing to do but think is an amazing pass-time.
9. Scoring 100% is an amazing thing, the better for being rare...?
10. Shooll can (and offen doos) hav a brane fryeen affect.
11. Full time PBFO doesn't leave much time for blogging.
12. Yawning and being tired has nothing to do with bed-time.
13. Staying up till 11 p.m. studying is a no-no.
14. Put another way, you don't want to talk to me for a few days after I've stayed up till 11 p.m. even one night. Got it?
15. (Inna, don't strangle me for this...) Sometimes you have to study on Saturdays and Sundays.
16. My essays almost always turn out better than my tests. (Compare average of 98% to average of 90%.)
17. Full time PBFO doesn't leave much time for anything.
18. The goal of the professor is not to:
a. Enhance your social life.
b. Make sure you get enough sleep.
c. Help meet exercise goals.
d. Refresh your brain for another study session.
e. Give you an easy "A" on tests etc.
f. All of the above.
19. Hanging out with friends is an awesmazing alternative for studying - even if they can't name the five pillars of Islam or tell the dates of the second Peloponnesian War.
20. It's good to be back blogging. *Happy sigh*
Note: Later posts will include
Fabulous Choir Trip
Inserts from Intro to Lit
Etc.
Sunday
Tuesday
My Sister's Face
I thought this a wonderful piece, so I had to publish it. Please comment and tell the author how wonderful it is! (Hint: I didn't write it.)
Have you ever wondered what it would be like if you met one of your family members instead of growing up with them? When I was nine years old my parents decided to adopt. I was thrilled. I had two younger brothers and I was ready to have a sister. At least I thought I was. My brothers and I were all excited but none of us fully understood what we were about to go through. After a year of endless paperwork and waiting, we got a phone call. The voice on the other line told my mom that an orphanage in Ukraine would allow us to adopt. This made the situation seem more hopeful but my parents would leave in less than a week. At the time we had no idea how long my parents would need to be in the other country; not knowing terrified me. While there, they would be picking out a girl to bring home and doing more paperwork. The next few days were busy as my parents scrambled to get ready to leave the country.
My parents ended up being in Ukraine for a month. During that time, my brothers an I stayed at a family friend's home; they lived three and a half hours away from Alexandria. Our parents were only able to talk to us through phone calls that came once a week. Every time I was able to talk to my parents I got excited and had lots to tell them. But when it came time to say good-bye I had to hold back tears. Being separated from my parents was hard. My parents were also able to send us a few emails. In one email we saw a picture of the girl my parents had picked. She was a healthy two year-old. The tiny girl had curly hair and clung to a doll: her face was wet from tears and her nose was runny from crying. The loneliness she had in her eyes was more than I can explain. I was suddenly hesitant. Would getting a little sister really be all that I had wanted it to be? For the first time I realized this was going to be harder than I thought.
When the end of the month finally came, my brothers and I came back home where my grandma was waiting for us. My parents would not be home until late that night.
Though I was filled with excitement and anticipation, I fell asleep while I was waiting. At 11:30 p.m. my parents arrived and my mom woke me up. I anxiously hugged both my parents. The whole month they had been away was now gone and we were together again.
"Can I see her?" I asked though I was nervous. I had to see the face from the e-mail.
"Yeah." My mom's face glowed with pride.
"Wait. Have Isaac and Zach seen her?" I felt scared, my nervousness was taking over.
"No. They will see her in the morning, but I want you to see her now," my mom replied calmly. "She is sleeping now." My mom gave me a comforting smile as she slowly pushed open the bedroom door. I hesitated before entering the dark room. The light from the hallway streamed in and I saw a port-a-crib on the floor next to my parents' bed. I peered over the edge of the crib. My body slowly relaxed. The face in the crib was tiny and cute just like it had been in the e-mail. But this face was not streaked with tears, and the sadness was replaced with a peaceful sleep. This face said it was going to be OK: it wouldn't be perfect but it was going to work out. That face was my sisters face.
This wonderful story is 100% true. It was written by Larissa. I was privileged enough to be the friend three and a half hours from Alexandria.
Have you ever wondered what it would be like if you met one of your family members instead of growing up with them? When I was nine years old my parents decided to adopt. I was thrilled. I had two younger brothers and I was ready to have a sister. At least I thought I was. My brothers and I were all excited but none of us fully understood what we were about to go through. After a year of endless paperwork and waiting, we got a phone call. The voice on the other line told my mom that an orphanage in Ukraine would allow us to adopt. This made the situation seem more hopeful but my parents would leave in less than a week. At the time we had no idea how long my parents would need to be in the other country; not knowing terrified me. While there, they would be picking out a girl to bring home and doing more paperwork. The next few days were busy as my parents scrambled to get ready to leave the country.
My parents ended up being in Ukraine for a month. During that time, my brothers an I stayed at a family friend's home; they lived three and a half hours away from Alexandria. Our parents were only able to talk to us through phone calls that came once a week. Every time I was able to talk to my parents I got excited and had lots to tell them. But when it came time to say good-bye I had to hold back tears. Being separated from my parents was hard. My parents were also able to send us a few emails. In one email we saw a picture of the girl my parents had picked. She was a healthy two year-old. The tiny girl had curly hair and clung to a doll: her face was wet from tears and her nose was runny from crying. The loneliness she had in her eyes was more than I can explain. I was suddenly hesitant. Would getting a little sister really be all that I had wanted it to be? For the first time I realized this was going to be harder than I thought.
When the end of the month finally came, my brothers and I came back home where my grandma was waiting for us. My parents would not be home until late that night.
Though I was filled with excitement and anticipation, I fell asleep while I was waiting. At 11:30 p.m. my parents arrived and my mom woke me up. I anxiously hugged both my parents. The whole month they had been away was now gone and we were together again.
"Can I see her?" I asked though I was nervous. I had to see the face from the e-mail.
"Yeah." My mom's face glowed with pride.
"Wait. Have Isaac and Zach seen her?" I felt scared, my nervousness was taking over.
"No. They will see her in the morning, but I want you to see her now," my mom replied calmly. "She is sleeping now." My mom gave me a comforting smile as she slowly pushed open the bedroom door. I hesitated before entering the dark room. The light from the hallway streamed in and I saw a port-a-crib on the floor next to my parents' bed. I peered over the edge of the crib. My body slowly relaxed. The face in the crib was tiny and cute just like it had been in the e-mail. But this face was not streaked with tears, and the sadness was replaced with a peaceful sleep. This face said it was going to be OK: it wouldn't be perfect but it was going to work out. That face was my sisters face.
This wonderful story is 100% true. It was written by Larissa. I was privileged enough to be the friend three and a half hours from Alexandria.
In Flander's Fields
This struck me as remarkable, and sad. Read it seriously. Check out this link for more information.
In Flander's Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amist the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flander's fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch, be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flander's fields.
In Flander's Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amist the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flander's fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch, be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flander's fields.
Monday
Sweet sentences
I loved these, so of course, I had to share them with the world. (Because - of course - the whole world reads my fabulous blog!)
This first one is a classic...I read it in a book - "The Mysterious Benedict Society" by Trenton Lee Stewart. It's a wonderful book. I read it once, read the sequel and then the sequel to that, and then went back and bought the first book so I could read it again!
"What is wrong with this statement?"
That's a puzzler, for some. Let me know if really can't figure it out.
And then there's this one, which I also read in a book. For those of you who actually use punctuation still, this book is for you - "Eats, Shoots and Leaves" by Lynne Truss. I loved it so much that somebody gave it to me for my birthday, and frankly, I can't think of a more appropriate gift!
"Is this a rhetorical question?"
Literally unanswerable, no?"
And that one made me think of this one, which is more along the lines of the first "statement"...
"This is a rhetorical question."
Somebody I know actually said that to me...
And this one doesn't really go along with anything else yet; I thought it was worthy to be posted despite that tiny little flaw. It goes thusly (and this little statement is never false!)
"You can read."
And it's less-brilliant little brother-of-a-sentence...
"If you can read this, you can read."
(!)
This first one is a classic...I read it in a book - "The Mysterious Benedict Society" by Trenton Lee Stewart. It's a wonderful book. I read it once, read the sequel and then the sequel to that, and then went back and bought the first book so I could read it again!
"What is wrong with this statement?"
That's a puzzler, for some. Let me know if really can't figure it out.
And then there's this one, which I also read in a book. For those of you who actually use punctuation still, this book is for you - "Eats, Shoots and Leaves" by Lynne Truss. I loved it so much that somebody gave it to me for my birthday, and frankly, I can't think of a more appropriate gift!
"Is this a rhetorical question?"
Literally unanswerable, no?"
And that one made me think of this one, which is more along the lines of the first "statement"...
"This is a rhetorical question."
Somebody I know actually said that to me...
And this one doesn't really go along with anything else yet; I thought it was worthy to be posted despite that tiny little flaw. It goes thusly (and this little statement is never false!)
"You can read."
And it's less-brilliant little brother-of-a-sentence...
"If you can read this, you can read."
(!)
Wednesday
Mice
I was reminded this morning that I hate mice. With a passion. A fierce one. As I was walking through the dog shed, I heard a rustling in the hay. The hay was on my left. The dogs were on my right. It wasn't the dogs. Then I realized that of course(!) it must have been a kitty that came into the dog shed, got scared of the dogs, and crawled up into the hay! I turned towards the hay and meowed to draw the kitty out. Something came out, but it wasn't a kitty. It was a Mouse. I stared at It. It stared at me. We both stood there. Both to afraid to move. Both trembling. I looked at him. He looked at me. I hated him. Fiercly. He gulped. Then I shifted and he fled in terror.
Let it be clarified. I HATE mice. With a passion. Particularly that one.
Let it be clarified. I HATE mice. With a passion. Particularly that one.
Saturday
"That's a bitter Irony..."
All righty folks, this ought to be entertaining. I'm gathered up some ironic facts for you. Enjoy!
*Did it ever occur to you that nothing ever occurs to God? (That's not irreverant, I promise!)
*Did you know that the Egyptian queen, Cleopatra, wasn't Egyptian? After Alexander the Great conquered Egypt and then died, his general, Ptolemy, took over Egypt. Cleopatra was descended from Ptolemy, not a drop of Egyptian in her.
*"Have you ever noticed that when you say "No comment," you're actually commenting?" "No. I never noticed that when I'm trying not to coment, I comment by saying that I indeed do not have a comment to comment with, thereby commenting and contradicting my acclaimed absence of comment with a very comment itself."
*Why is it that whenever you pick up something you really want to read, the other person in the room becomes incureably talkative?
*Why do you drive in a Parkway and park in a driveway?
*Charlie Chaplin himself once "failed even to make the finals." in a Charlie Chaplin look-alike contest! :-D
*This one strikes a little close to home...One young man was particularly confident that he would pass his road test on the first try, so he made arrangements with his buds to go out driving with them about an hour after he was scheduled to take the test...in his new truck. On the day of the test, he smiled boldly at his test officer, put the truck in reverse, and promptly backed into another vehicle. Of course, he failed immediately. He still went around town with his buds, but instead of driving, he had to watch his mother take the wheel.
*The other line moves faster.
*I play soccer and, I'll admit, I'm a little a little! short. I play defense. It's my favorite position. And my question is, Why do the forwards for the other team always have to be soooo tall?!
*Did it ever occur to you that nothing ever occurs to God? (That's not irreverant, I promise!)
*Did you know that the Egyptian queen, Cleopatra, wasn't Egyptian? After Alexander the Great conquered Egypt and then died, his general, Ptolemy, took over Egypt. Cleopatra was descended from Ptolemy, not a drop of Egyptian in her.
*"Have you ever noticed that when you say "No comment," you're actually commenting?" "No. I never noticed that when I'm trying not to coment, I comment by saying that I indeed do not have a comment to comment with, thereby commenting and contradicting my acclaimed absence of comment with a very comment itself."
*Why is it that whenever you pick up something you really want to read, the other person in the room becomes incureably talkative?
*Why do you drive in a Parkway and park in a driveway?
*Charlie Chaplin himself once "failed even to make the finals." in a Charlie Chaplin look-alike contest! :-D
*This one strikes a little close to home...One young man was particularly confident that he would pass his road test on the first try, so he made arrangements with his buds to go out driving with them about an hour after he was scheduled to take the test...in his new truck. On the day of the test, he smiled boldly at his test officer, put the truck in reverse, and promptly backed into another vehicle. Of course, he failed immediately. He still went around town with his buds, but instead of driving, he had to watch his mother take the wheel.
*The other line moves faster.
*I play soccer and, I'll admit, I'm a little a little! short. I play defense. It's my favorite position. And my question is, Why do the forwards for the other team always have to be soooo tall?!
Sunday
Chucky
Hey all. I've been re-dubbed. Here's the story.
Last night, my sisters and I were picking numbers to decide who had to do the dishes. We wrote our numbers on sheets, signed our names and handed them to Mom. She read, "Shutterbug, 36. Art-maniac, 36. Chuck Norris, 37." For a moment, nobody caught on. Then Dad, and slowly the rest of the family began to laugh. I grinned. It stuck. In short order I had been officially dubbed "Chucky". My littlest bro voted for "Chunky" but that didn't last long, lemme tell you. Grrrr. But Chucky stuck. So meet Chucky. Hi!
Last night, my sisters and I were picking numbers to decide who had to do the dishes. We wrote our numbers on sheets, signed our names and handed them to Mom. She read, "Shutterbug, 36. Art-maniac, 36. Chuck Norris, 37." For a moment, nobody caught on. Then Dad, and slowly the rest of the family began to laugh. I grinned. It stuck. In short order I had been officially dubbed "Chucky". My littlest bro voted for "Chunky" but that didn't last long, lemme tell you. Grrrr. But Chucky stuck. So meet Chucky. Hi!
Saturday
State Fair :-D
This is to be a post of Smiley faces, with a few explanations for the clarification of things. Moving on.
:). I sat next to Ruth Peterson on the bus ride down to the state fair. We talked, and read. I was comfortable, both in my seat, and in the knowledge that I had plenty of reading material. (My main requirement, of course. Pajamas are entirely optional.)
: - S. I was a bit nervous. You see, I had to perform my Piano piece the first night, after an all-day bus ride, and no time to warm up. Uh huh, I was nervous. Uh huh, I screwed it up. Uh huh, I tried (rather unsuccessfully) to cover it up.
8-O/ :-D /:-) (With some shrieking and jumping up and down...) May I have a drum roll please? Dun Dun DUNNNNNN! I won Grand Champion! Whoooooooooooooo Hoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooey! Was I ever thrilled! I'm pretty sure I flew to have my picture taken, and tell Mom & Co. (Being sisters, brother, and friend Ruth.) I was so excited!
:-O/:-) The fireworks were beautiful that first night, as we walked around the fair, finding our favorite food booths for future reference. I felt a bit like Sam Gamgee..."The finest rockets ever seen, they burst in stars of blue and green. Or after thunder, golden showers came falling like a rain of flowers. Only that doesn't do them justice..." (J. R. R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring.)
:-T. It took forever to fall asleep that first night, in the barrak...Ahem...dorms. There were roughly three hundred girls, the bunks were end to end, and about three and one half feet apart.
:-/. The loudspeaker came on at 6 a.m. to wake us up. Ugh. Ew. Bleh. Disgusting. Revolting. And we had to get up cuz breakfast was from 7 to 8. Do you have any idea how loud a loudspeaker can be when you're pleasantly drowsy, and it's perfectly dark outside? Uh huh, exactly. Only louder.
l - /. That's me eating with me eyes closed. I was tired. Oh, but breakfast was a sausage/egg muffin thingy, so it was pretty good, what little I actually saw.
:-, That is me walking around the state fair with a sort of bunched up half smile. Use your imagination. I walked until about 11, but then the girls had kitchen duty (Mwah ha ha! They helped wash dishes until from about 10:45 a.m. until 2 p.m.) and I had to perform my piano song once again (with the other Grand Champion winners) for a sort of concert. This time no butterflies. Just happy-go-lucky me. Yay! It was fun.
:-) The rest of the after noon, I just slept and read. (Hey, they woke us up at 6 and they didn't turn the lights off until 11, and then not all the way, so I had an excuse.) I worked my way through Urchin and the Heartstone (M. I. Mcallister)and started Blue like Jazz (Donald Miller), having already finished The Yearling (Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings.) Supper also deserves the same contented smile. We had...Hmmm. Can't remember. Oh well.
:-D We were walking around the fair again, and I sampled some Cheese Curds. They were delicious, but I shared with Kiara. (Ok, I tried. We accidentally dropped the dish and I shared mostly with the street.) There was a dance for the 4-Her's that Mom had to chaperone, so we had to go back to the 4-H Hilton. (Where the dorms were.) I went to the dance too. I actually participated in the "Cha cha slide". Other than that, I had a snack and some water, and hung out on that floor just to say I'd been to the dance. Whoohoo. Yippee. Nope. Kiara had a blast though, she really cut the rug.
,:-< We were awakened at 6 a.m. again, (horrible) and greated with a lame joke. (Ok, the lame joke was at lights out, but so what?) "Why did the monkey cross the playground? To get to the other slide!" No. Not all 4-Her's are this lame. Just the top of the top, the State Ambies. (Don't ask...)
:-) We're going home! I could have cheered. I probably did. To delirious to remember. No, it wasn't a horrible experience, it was wonderful. But I didn't wear the same shirt twice, and sometimes not even a full day, because it was sooooo hot that any shirt was sweat soaked in no time flat. I even had to wash my dress (which I wore for a total of two performances...)
:-(. The most unthinkable, unimaginable, horrific, terrible, despicable, and night-mare-ish thing happened on the way home. Any guesses? I ran out of books!! Yes, I nearly wept. I nearly died. But somehow, miraculously, I survived to tell the story.
Well, there you have it. My tale of twin cities.
Toodles!
Chucky
:). I sat next to Ruth Peterson on the bus ride down to the state fair. We talked, and read. I was comfortable, both in my seat, and in the knowledge that I had plenty of reading material. (My main requirement, of course. Pajamas are entirely optional.)
: - S. I was a bit nervous. You see, I had to perform my Piano piece the first night, after an all-day bus ride, and no time to warm up. Uh huh, I was nervous. Uh huh, I screwed it up. Uh huh, I tried (rather unsuccessfully) to cover it up.
8-O/ :-D /:-) (With some shrieking and jumping up and down...) May I have a drum roll please? Dun Dun DUNNNNNN! I won Grand Champion! Whoooooooooooooo Hoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooey! Was I ever thrilled! I'm pretty sure I flew to have my picture taken, and tell Mom & Co. (Being sisters, brother, and friend Ruth.) I was so excited!
:-O/:-) The fireworks were beautiful that first night, as we walked around the fair, finding our favorite food booths for future reference. I felt a bit like Sam Gamgee..."The finest rockets ever seen, they burst in stars of blue and green. Or after thunder, golden showers came falling like a rain of flowers. Only that doesn't do them justice..." (J. R. R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring.)
:-T. It took forever to fall asleep that first night, in the barrak...Ahem...dorms. There were roughly three hundred girls, the bunks were end to end, and about three and one half feet apart.
:-/. The loudspeaker came on at 6 a.m. to wake us up. Ugh. Ew. Bleh. Disgusting. Revolting. And we had to get up cuz breakfast was from 7 to 8. Do you have any idea how loud a loudspeaker can be when you're pleasantly drowsy, and it's perfectly dark outside? Uh huh, exactly. Only louder.
l - /. That's me eating with me eyes closed. I was tired. Oh, but breakfast was a sausage/egg muffin thingy, so it was pretty good, what little I actually saw.
:-, That is me walking around the state fair with a sort of bunched up half smile. Use your imagination. I walked until about 11, but then the girls had kitchen duty (Mwah ha ha! They helped wash dishes until from about 10:45 a.m. until 2 p.m.) and I had to perform my piano song once again (with the other Grand Champion winners) for a sort of concert. This time no butterflies. Just happy-go-lucky me. Yay! It was fun.
:-) The rest of the after noon, I just slept and read. (Hey, they woke us up at 6 and they didn't turn the lights off until 11, and then not all the way, so I had an excuse.) I worked my way through Urchin and the Heartstone (M. I. Mcallister)and started Blue like Jazz (Donald Miller), having already finished The Yearling (Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings.) Supper also deserves the same contented smile. We had...Hmmm. Can't remember. Oh well.
:-D We were walking around the fair again, and I sampled some Cheese Curds. They were delicious, but I shared with Kiara. (Ok, I tried. We accidentally dropped the dish and I shared mostly with the street.) There was a dance for the 4-Her's that Mom had to chaperone, so we had to go back to the 4-H Hilton. (Where the dorms were.) I went to the dance too. I actually participated in the "Cha cha slide". Other than that, I had a snack and some water, and hung out on that floor just to say I'd been to the dance. Whoohoo. Yippee. Nope. Kiara had a blast though, she really cut the rug.
,:-< We were awakened at 6 a.m. again, (horrible) and greated with a lame joke. (Ok, the lame joke was at lights out, but so what?) "Why did the monkey cross the playground? To get to the other slide!" No. Not all 4-Her's are this lame. Just the top of the top, the State Ambies. (Don't ask...)
:-) We're going home! I could have cheered. I probably did. To delirious to remember. No, it wasn't a horrible experience, it was wonderful. But I didn't wear the same shirt twice, and sometimes not even a full day, because it was sooooo hot that any shirt was sweat soaked in no time flat. I even had to wash my dress (which I wore for a total of two performances...)
:-(. The most unthinkable, unimaginable, horrific, terrible, despicable, and night-mare-ish thing happened on the way home. Any guesses? I ran out of books!! Yes, I nearly wept. I nearly died. But somehow, miraculously, I survived to tell the story.
Well, there you have it. My tale of twin cities.
Toodles!
Chucky
Monday
Ramnosities, just for you.
Hello once again friends. It's high time I give ya'll an update on me. Besides the whole "I'm Crazy, I'm Storyfingers." thing, which I must say was brilliant, I'm pretty sure some of you want to know more about me. Weeeell, I'll start slow and just give you a few facts (and opinions) about my recent history. (Being the weird way of saying "the past few weeks.")
1. Just so you know, college life is harder than I thought. I mean, come on, I actually have to think!
2. I'm definitely not a geography expert. I discovered this when I had to take some diagnosive map quizzes, about the cities, countries, and regional geography of Europe. Ew! I think I got about one mountain range in the regional physical geography one. The other twenty-eight or so labels were hit and miss. The cities I was a little better at. Paris only took a few guesses, and Berlin. London I got on the first try! Oh, and Kiev, Ukraine. But I think that's it. Again, there was a list about thirty long. And the countries one...well, you'll laugh at this, but I couldn't for the life of me find Liechtenstein. Anybody know where that is? I guessed every country I could see, to no avail. Hmmm. Remind me to google that, somebody.
3. My thoughts about going to the State Fair. (In music!) *Gasp* Me? Really? Wow! I'm...I'm...speechless with delight! I get to perform my piano contest piece at the State Fair! *Groan* How much stuff do we have to pack anyway? I'm halfway down the list, and our car's trunk is full! *Worried sigh* Mom? I don't have any cute not-quite-so-formal dresses to wear! What should I do? (The answer happened to be "Go shopping" and I did.) *Delighted sigh* Oooooh, what a cute dress that is, and on clearance too! I just adore that pattern! *Weary sigh* (After loading the car) I need a bath. *Thoughtful smile* I'm sure I'll have more sighs to add when we come home, but you'll have to wait!
4. There are a lot of homeschooled juniors doing PSEO through Northwestern College. (Yes, that's a clue about me.) I'm meeting quite a few neat people through the forums online in my classes. What fun!
5. I spent a two dollar bill today. What fun! I handed it to the lady (I was at Hugo's, buying candy...I needed it.) Anywho, I handed the cashier my money, and she started to put it away. Then she said "Oh, it's a two! Haven't seen one of those in a while!" She held it over the cash registry and wondered for a moment where to put it. Then she (rather distractedly, I thought) gave me my change and turned to the next costumer. It's so fun to take people by surprise like that.
6. I'm knitting fingerless mittens! They're going to be so cute when I finish (if I ever do happen to get around to that!) Here's a link for a post about fingerless mittens (on Friend Blogger's Blog) so that you can see pictures. Mine a actually green, kind of a muted, light, mossy green. They're comin' along pretty good though, I don't' think they'll take quite six mos! (View link...)
7. It's past my bed time (which usually makes no difference whatsoever...) so I have to go. Toodles, all!
1. Just so you know, college life is harder than I thought. I mean, come on, I actually have to think!
2. I'm definitely not a geography expert. I discovered this when I had to take some diagnosive map quizzes, about the cities, countries, and regional geography of Europe. Ew! I think I got about one mountain range in the regional physical geography one. The other twenty-eight or so labels were hit and miss. The cities I was a little better at. Paris only took a few guesses, and Berlin. London I got on the first try! Oh, and Kiev, Ukraine. But I think that's it. Again, there was a list about thirty long. And the countries one...well, you'll laugh at this, but I couldn't for the life of me find Liechtenstein. Anybody know where that is? I guessed every country I could see, to no avail. Hmmm. Remind me to google that, somebody.
3. My thoughts about going to the State Fair. (In music!) *Gasp* Me? Really? Wow! I'm...I'm...speechless with delight! I get to perform my piano contest piece at the State Fair! *Groan* How much stuff do we have to pack anyway? I'm halfway down the list, and our car's trunk is full! *Worried sigh* Mom? I don't have any cute not-quite-so-formal dresses to wear! What should I do? (The answer happened to be "Go shopping" and I did.) *Delighted sigh* Oooooh, what a cute dress that is, and on clearance too! I just adore that pattern! *Weary sigh* (After loading the car) I need a bath. *Thoughtful smile* I'm sure I'll have more sighs to add when we come home, but you'll have to wait!
4. There are a lot of homeschooled juniors doing PSEO through Northwestern College. (Yes, that's a clue about me.) I'm meeting quite a few neat people through the forums online in my classes. What fun!
5. I spent a two dollar bill today. What fun! I handed it to the lady (I was at Hugo's, buying candy...I needed it.) Anywho, I handed the cashier my money, and she started to put it away. Then she said "Oh, it's a two! Haven't seen one of those in a while!" She held it over the cash registry and wondered for a moment where to put it. Then she (rather distractedly, I thought) gave me my change and turned to the next costumer. It's so fun to take people by surprise like that.
6. I'm knitting fingerless mittens! They're going to be so cute when I finish (if I ever do happen to get around to that!) Here's a link for a post about fingerless mittens (on Friend Blogger's Blog) so that you can see pictures. Mine a actually green, kind of a muted, light, mossy green. They're comin' along pretty good though, I don't' think they'll take quite six mos! (View link...)
7. It's past my bed time (which usually makes no difference whatsoever...) so I have to go. Toodles, all!
Wednesday
Storyfingers Booklist
I'll be the first to admit that my vocabulary is not exactly what one would expect of a typical teenager. Truth be told, I'm not, so of course, that rather explains the first statement. Well, to be precise, it explains why the first statement isn't so odd after all. Still, I'm guessing you're all seeking some sort of enlightenment as to why I'm even blogging this. The fact that I use weird lingo is partially due to my extraordinary friends, true, but it is also largely due to the books I read. (My family would translate read as devour.) For those of you who didn't know, books are some of the most wonderful things in the world. They can be the most powerful tools, they can be the most excellent educators, and they can take you places that no jet, camel, kayak, or foot could go. You can find books about anything and everything, logical, ridiculous, or a queer combination of both, with a good measure of realistic fancy. (Do you believe sentence #1 yet?) So I've decided to post a book list for you. I won't post every book on my aforementioned list, just a few of my favorites. (After all, you'd get sick of a list that takes a decade to finish...) Just a note in passing, if you see an "S" after a book, then that book is the first of a series. Sometimes I may not recommend the entire series, so watch for ensuing titles by the same author.
1. Anne of Green Gables by L. M. Montgomery. This one is full of detail and beauty! S
2. Emily of New Moon by L. M. Montgomery. Another creative work of art!
3. Rebecka of Sunnybrook Farm by L. M. Montgomery. This one I loved!
4. Mere Christianity by C. S. Lewis. This one is great for mid-teens and adults.
5. The Magician's Nephew by C. S. Lewis. This one is a great first-of-a-series! S
6. Any book by Dr. Seuss! These are great for all ages. I love them, my little brother loves them, my mom loves them.
7. The Hobbit by J. R. R. Tolkien. "The enchanting prelude to..."
8. The Fellowship of the Ring by J. R. R. Tolkien. Wow! Wonderful books! One of my favorite authors, for sure. S
9. The Yearling by Marjorie Kennen Rawlings. This one made me cry, sure sign of a well-written book. Great work, Rawlings!
10. Miracles of Maple Hill by Virginia Sorensen. I love the rustic setting in this winter/spring tale.
11. Understood Betsy by Dorothy Canfield Fisher. Goes right with the above.
12. Rethinking Worldview by J. Mark Bertrand. This is great for those of you who like to think.
13. The Elizabeth George Young Woman's Collection by Elizabeth George. Girls-reading-my-blog, get this book and read it cover to cover. Don't scoff at the pink hard-cover, this is an amazing set of books! (Sorry guys, had to post that.)
14. The Puzzling World of Winston Breen by Eric Berlin. I love the puzzles in this book!
15. All things Bright and Beautiful by James Herriot. This country vet has stories just waiting to enrich your life. S
16. The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame. This is not just a kids book!
17. The Beekeeper's Apprentice by Laurie R. King. The next three books go with this one, but don't try to tackle them all in a row!
18. O Jerusalem by Laurie R. King.
19. The Moor by Laurie R. King.
20. The Game by Laurie R. King.
21. Redwall by Brian Jaque. Captivating tale! S
22. Urchin of the Riding Stars by M. I. McAllister. This is a wonderful read, good for ages 7-107. Seriously! S
23. Eats Shoots and Leaves by Lynne Truss. This is great for anyone who loves writing/grammar!
Thanks all, for hangin' in there through that list. I could add to it, but don't tempt me! These are only a few off the good books I've enjoyed, and I certainly hope you enjoy some of them also. By the way, it is very helpful to keep a list of books (including authors) and when you read them. My list is several pages long, despite the fact that I forgot most of the books I've read before I could write them down!
Monday
Noticing Things
I bet you all thought I was done posting about color. "I mean, seriously, Storyfingers?" But nope! Actually, this time, it's more of a tip than an example, but it still includes an exercise. Some of you will take this seriously. (Thanks, guys!!) And some of you won't. (Fine then, be that way. Just kidding.) But anywho, I was talking about color. Be patient with me, this is a several part series. It requires cooperation.
Step 1. Sit down by a window (or preferably outside) and write down all the colors you see. Don't leave anything out. This really shouldn't take too long...All right, got that done? (Yeah, I'm serious!!!)
Step 2. You're going to rewrite your list. This time, don't just jot down green grass, brown trees, blue sky, white clouds, yellow bird. Cheater! This time, make a point to notice the vast array of colors around you! The grass itself may be a sort of translucent emerald, but that clover leave is a shade darker, and that pine cone is a rich chocolate. Oh, and that prematurely yellow leave is golden with light brown flecks on it. Get what I mean? Ok. Go rewrite that list. *Don't forget to label what's which color!*
Step 3. Pay attention.
Have you noticed how well details color a story? For example. "It was a bright, sunny day." This sentence can be colored ever so much better by merely adding a few details. Case in point. "The sun was shining in just the right sort of way, that it made her want to turn cartwheels in the grass." (Absolutely no idea who she is, just seemed to fit.) Go back to my previous post and read some of the story samples; pay attention to how the details make the story more captivating. Or, check out Friend Blogger's blog and read her post about using $2 bills. Notice the descriptive details she uses.
Step 4. I'm not in the least bit joking. Go see how much fun it is to write a descriptive paragraph, using the new details you never even knew were available. If you want to see this in action (or should I say, in print) here are some good books you should definitely read.
Anne of Green Gables by L. M. Montegomery
The Fellowship of the Ring by J. R. R. Tolkien
The Beekeeper's Apprentice by Laurie R. King
Step 1. Sit down by a window (or preferably outside) and write down all the colors you see. Don't leave anything out. This really shouldn't take too long...All right, got that done? (Yeah, I'm serious!!!)
Step 2. You're going to rewrite your list. This time, don't just jot down green grass, brown trees, blue sky, white clouds, yellow bird. Cheater! This time, make a point to notice the vast array of colors around you! The grass itself may be a sort of translucent emerald, but that clover leave is a shade darker, and that pine cone is a rich chocolate. Oh, and that prematurely yellow leave is golden with light brown flecks on it. Get what I mean? Ok. Go rewrite that list. *Don't forget to label what's which color!*
Step 3. Pay attention.
Have you noticed how well details color a story? For example. "It was a bright, sunny day." This sentence can be colored ever so much better by merely adding a few details. Case in point. "The sun was shining in just the right sort of way, that it made her want to turn cartwheels in the grass." (Absolutely no idea who she is, just seemed to fit.) Go back to my previous post and read some of the story samples; pay attention to how the details make the story more captivating. Or, check out Friend Blogger's blog and read her post about using $2 bills. Notice the descriptive details she uses.
Step 4. I'm not in the least bit joking. Go see how much fun it is to write a descriptive paragraph, using the new details you never even knew were available. If you want to see this in action (or should I say, in print) here are some good books you should definitely read.
Anne of Green Gables by L. M. Montegomery
The Fellowship of the Ring by J. R. R. Tolkien
The Beekeeper's Apprentice by Laurie R. King
Friday
Coloring a story...
Trust me. This isn't as bad as you think. I know most of you are groaning, "But coloring is for little kids!" Ah, but it's not. I'm going to post some coloring pointers, and some samples of colored stories. And then you'll understand, and suddenly, you'll be telling all your friends that you've been practicing coloring...Ha. Gotcha. Ok, listen up. (Sorry, but "Read up" didn't sound right...)
I'm going to start by explaining that color can be added in a few different ways. One way is in the characters, what they do, say, how they feel, etc. I'll call this the Crayon option.
Secondly, color can be expressed in the surroundings. E.g. Was the sky dark and stormy? or was it a golden sunrise? I'll call this color Colored Pencil option, because it's slightly more subtle.
And finally, color can be expressed in the narrative, neither describing the people, or places, but merely in the words used to convey meaning. The narrative. I'm going to call this one the Watermark option, because it's not as easily noticed.
Now for colors. You can use any color really, but I'm going to use Gray, Green, light Blue, and Red/Yellow for my demonstrative colors.
I'm going to give samples of these colors right now, starting with Green.
1. Sample #1 is from a story I wrote for Easter about the thief on the cross next to Jesus, who repented of his sin. This paragraph takes place just after he's been thrown into prison, and uses Colored Pencil and Crayon options, respectively.
"The guards grabbed my arms and dragged me through street after street towards the palace, or--more accurately--the dungeon. They threw me into a tiny stone cell. It was dirtier even than the alleys I was used to sleeping in, and it stank"..."I sat there for hours, wondering what would happen. Well, I wished that I could wonder what would happen. Unfortunately, I knew all to well that the punishment for criminals like me was death...by crucifixion. So I sat and waited for the inevitable, with dread weighing like a stone in the pit of my stomach. I waited without even the invisible motion of lengthening shadows to inform me of time. With agonizing slowness, the minutes became hours--became eternity. It was a living death.
2. This sample is from a story I wrote about the naming of Thief River Falls. (If you want the whole story, leave a comment and I'll send it to you. This goes for all my stories.) In the story, a band of Dakota is secretly living in Ojibwa territory, and occasionally they go on raiding parties against the Ojibwa. They've just come back from a successful raid, and are celebrating. The very next paragraph, however, contrasts the green with grey, as the Ojibwa angrily meditate their losses.
"The Dakota warriors were triumphant in their mission. Dances of celebration are held in the center of the village around a huge bonfire. Braves dance wildly, waving their arms, chanting and stomping. A warrior with a fierce mask beats a small drum, tapping out the dance rhythm. Women tap their feet and clap in time to the drum and dancing. Children watch from the shadows, sitting in a circle outside the ring of dancers. Firelight flickers on their faces. A small boy imitates the dancing with exaggerated hilarity, causing his friends to stifle giggles.
"The people of Kemoj Aki village are rejoicing. It is a time of peace now. The braves have defeated their enemies and come home with few casualties. The secret village has remained unnoticed. So the believe. and thus they celebrate. Above them the silver stars twinkle and the Milky Way glows.
"The same stars are shining above a far away village, close to Red Lake. The wind sighs eerily through the grass; here a different dance is taking place. the warriors are more fierce. As they dance, they yell. the drum beats louder. Under his mask, the drummer wears a scowl of hatred. The women do not keep time with their feet but with their voices, wailing and chanting. Their clamor carries far in the still night. Children crouch or sit quietly outside the circle. The flickering fire illuminates their faces randomly, revealing not fear, but determination."
3. And now a paragraph of blue. This paragraph is from a story by (None other than...) Friend Blogger! Of course, I'm sure she'd be glad to share a copy of this story with you, leave a comment on her blog. The girl in the story has just received a bird feeder for Christmas, and she proceeded to hang it outside her bedroom window with the help of her Dad.
"The snow w3as gently falling around us, just like it should on a Christmas day It was fluffy snow, and the world was so silent I could almost hear the flakes hitting the snowdrifts. The little feeder swung in the cold wind and a light dusting of snow already lay on its roof. But pretty soon my hands were so cold they felt like they weren't even there, so we went it.
I got a cup of hot chocolate and sat in my room on my window seat. I fluffed a goose down blanket over my knees and listened by Mom playing Silent Night on the piano. It was cozy and somehow that bird feeder hanging outside my window fit into the scene."
4. Finally, a bit of red/yellow. I thought these two colors went together to well to separate. This color sample is from one of my favorite books, The Fellowship of the Ring by J. R. R. Tolkien. The scene is the birthday celebration of Bilbo Baggins, a hobbit. (If you aren't familiar with hobbits, leave a comment, and I'll be the first to welcome you to the world of film!)
"There were rockets like a flight of scintillating birds singing with sweet voices. There were green trees with trunks of dark smoke: their leaves opened like a while spring unfolding in a moment., the their shining branches dropped glowing flowers down upon the astonished hobbits, disappearing with a sweet scent just before they touched their upturned faces. There were fountains of butterflies that flew glittering into the trees; there were pillars of coloured fires that rose and turned into eagles, or sailing ships, or a phalanx of flying swans; there was a red thunderstorm and a shower of yellow rain; there was a forest of silver spears that sprang suddenly into the air with a yell like an embattled army, and came down again into the Water with a hiss like a hundred hot snakes."
And finally, a sentence that not only makes me smile, but embodies perfectly, the Watermark option.
"When Mr. Bilbo Baggins announced that he would shortly be celebrating his Eleventy-first birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton."
Now a challenge. Write a short essay or story, whichever you are more comfortable with, and practice using all three types of coloring. Use different colors. Be dramatic. Be subtle. Splash one scene full of bright blue, sea green, and aqua-marine. Shade one page with pale, sunshiny yellow and translucent emerald. "Magic" up an over-cast tone using browns and grays. Dash back the darkness with brilliant gold and crimson. Use your imagination as only you know how, and go start coloring. :-D
I'm going to start by explaining that color can be added in a few different ways. One way is in the characters, what they do, say, how they feel, etc. I'll call this the Crayon option.
Secondly, color can be expressed in the surroundings. E.g. Was the sky dark and stormy? or was it a golden sunrise? I'll call this color Colored Pencil option, because it's slightly more subtle.
And finally, color can be expressed in the narrative, neither describing the people, or places, but merely in the words used to convey meaning. The narrative. I'm going to call this one the Watermark option, because it's not as easily noticed.
Now for colors. You can use any color really, but I'm going to use Gray, Green, light Blue, and Red/Yellow for my demonstrative colors.
I'm going to give samples of these colors right now, starting with Green.
1. Sample #1 is from a story I wrote for Easter about the thief on the cross next to Jesus, who repented of his sin. This paragraph takes place just after he's been thrown into prison, and uses Colored Pencil and Crayon options, respectively.
"The guards grabbed my arms and dragged me through street after street towards the palace, or--more accurately--the dungeon. They threw me into a tiny stone cell. It was dirtier even than the alleys I was used to sleeping in, and it stank"..."I sat there for hours, wondering what would happen. Well, I wished that I could wonder what would happen. Unfortunately, I knew all to well that the punishment for criminals like me was death...by crucifixion. So I sat and waited for the inevitable, with dread weighing like a stone in the pit of my stomach. I waited without even the invisible motion of lengthening shadows to inform me of time. With agonizing slowness, the minutes became hours--became eternity. It was a living death.
2. This sample is from a story I wrote about the naming of Thief River Falls. (If you want the whole story, leave a comment and I'll send it to you. This goes for all my stories.) In the story, a band of Dakota is secretly living in Ojibwa territory, and occasionally they go on raiding parties against the Ojibwa. They've just come back from a successful raid, and are celebrating. The very next paragraph, however, contrasts the green with grey, as the Ojibwa angrily meditate their losses.
"The Dakota warriors were triumphant in their mission. Dances of celebration are held in the center of the village around a huge bonfire. Braves dance wildly, waving their arms, chanting and stomping. A warrior with a fierce mask beats a small drum, tapping out the dance rhythm. Women tap their feet and clap in time to the drum and dancing. Children watch from the shadows, sitting in a circle outside the ring of dancers. Firelight flickers on their faces. A small boy imitates the dancing with exaggerated hilarity, causing his friends to stifle giggles.
"The people of Kemoj Aki village are rejoicing. It is a time of peace now. The braves have defeated their enemies and come home with few casualties. The secret village has remained unnoticed. So the believe. and thus they celebrate. Above them the silver stars twinkle and the Milky Way glows.
"The same stars are shining above a far away village, close to Red Lake. The wind sighs eerily through the grass; here a different dance is taking place. the warriors are more fierce. As they dance, they yell. the drum beats louder. Under his mask, the drummer wears a scowl of hatred. The women do not keep time with their feet but with their voices, wailing and chanting. Their clamor carries far in the still night. Children crouch or sit quietly outside the circle. The flickering fire illuminates their faces randomly, revealing not fear, but determination."
3. And now a paragraph of blue. This paragraph is from a story by (None other than...) Friend Blogger! Of course, I'm sure she'd be glad to share a copy of this story with you, leave a comment on her blog. The girl in the story has just received a bird feeder for Christmas, and she proceeded to hang it outside her bedroom window with the help of her Dad.
"The snow w3as gently falling around us, just like it should on a Christmas day It was fluffy snow, and the world was so silent I could almost hear the flakes hitting the snowdrifts. The little feeder swung in the cold wind and a light dusting of snow already lay on its roof. But pretty soon my hands were so cold they felt like they weren't even there, so we went it.
I got a cup of hot chocolate and sat in my room on my window seat. I fluffed a goose down blanket over my knees and listened by Mom playing Silent Night on the piano. It was cozy and somehow that bird feeder hanging outside my window fit into the scene."
4. Finally, a bit of red/yellow. I thought these two colors went together to well to separate. This color sample is from one of my favorite books, The Fellowship of the Ring by J. R. R. Tolkien. The scene is the birthday celebration of Bilbo Baggins, a hobbit. (If you aren't familiar with hobbits, leave a comment, and I'll be the first to welcome you to the world of film!)
"There were rockets like a flight of scintillating birds singing with sweet voices. There were green trees with trunks of dark smoke: their leaves opened like a while spring unfolding in a moment., the their shining branches dropped glowing flowers down upon the astonished hobbits, disappearing with a sweet scent just before they touched their upturned faces. There were fountains of butterflies that flew glittering into the trees; there were pillars of coloured fires that rose and turned into eagles, or sailing ships, or a phalanx of flying swans; there was a red thunderstorm and a shower of yellow rain; there was a forest of silver spears that sprang suddenly into the air with a yell like an embattled army, and came down again into the Water with a hiss like a hundred hot snakes."
And finally, a sentence that not only makes me smile, but embodies perfectly, the Watermark option.
"When Mr. Bilbo Baggins announced that he would shortly be celebrating his Eleventy-first birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton."
Now a challenge. Write a short essay or story, whichever you are more comfortable with, and practice using all three types of coloring. Use different colors. Be dramatic. Be subtle. Splash one scene full of bright blue, sea green, and aqua-marine. Shade one page with pale, sunshiny yellow and translucent emerald. "Magic" up an over-cast tone using browns and grays. Dash back the darkness with brilliant gold and crimson. Use your imagination as only you know how, and go start coloring. :-D
Wednesday
"Bert"
Introducing Bert, friend and fellow writer. His work speaks for him.
"The Great Journey"
It is a brilliant night. Across the dome of the black sky, the Milky Way glows. To the north the Great Bear glimmers. To the south, Orion burns. On all sides, stars and planets gleam. The night sky blazes with celestial light.
Amid the starry night sits the great whit e palace. From its windows radiates a brilliant light. Like a full moon on a clear winter night the palace glows with light.
Inside the palace, on a throne of glittering crystal, sits the Prince. On his head gleams a crown of gold. Down from his shoulders flows a robe of dazzling white. Across his chest shimmers a sash of gold. On his feet shine slipper s of silver and gold.
Surrounding the Prince on his throne is a choir of thousands, robed in snowy white. Facing the throne and with arms raised high, the chorus joyfully sings: "Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty, who was, who is, and who is to come."
On the polished marble floor before the crystal throne stands a group of elders, dressed in white and wearing crowns of gold. Their faces are radiant and their arms raised high in worship. As the choir sings, they too sing.
High above the Prince on his throne, winged creatures fly in slow, majestic arcs. As they fly, these creatures join in the chorus of praise.
At the center of this cascade of worship, the Prince leans forward on his throne. His chin rests in his hand. A thoughtful look rests on his face. His blue eyes gaze into the distance, to a point far beyond the palace walls.
Minutes pass. Suddenly, the Prince sits up. "Rising to his feet, he steps down from the throne. With slow steps he begins to walk across the throne room. As he passes by, the elders remove their crowns and fall to their faces before him.
The Prince passes through an archway and onto an outer balcony. Stopping at the railing, he looks out over the night sky. A quiet smile plays on his lips. Cupping his hands together he shouts: "Let there be light!" From between the Prince's fingers a glow emerges. He opens his hands. Above his palms hover lights the size of fireflies. He gently blows into his hands--poof--and a new galaxy sails out into the waiting universe.
Looking out at the starry firmament, the prince focuses his gaze on a distant point of light. As he watches that light, a look of sadness spreads over his face. A tear forms in his eye, and then rolls down his cheek.
As the Prince gazes into space, a figure wearing a golden crown and carrying a jeweled scepter steps onto the balcony. it is the King. Walking up to his son, the King stops, and then follows with his own eyes the path of his son's gaze. After a minute's silence, he speaks. "My son, it is time."
"Yes father, I know. It is time for me to leave."
As the prince says this, a deep sigh passes his lips. "Father, I am ready to go. I am eager to go. I long to go to the dark planet. My heart breaks for the people there. I am restless until I have carried out our plan to rescue them."
The prince turns to face his father. Tears stain his cheeks. "But father, even though I am ready, it is hard to leave. My heart breaks at the thought of leaving you."
There is a brief silence. The king speaks. "I know son. My heart also aches for the dark planet. so many there are lost. So many are hurting. So many live in darkness. So many do not know my love for them. I, too, have longed for this moment. I have longed for you to go and shine the light of our undying love for the people there to see."
The King pauses, "Son, we both know this is a dangerous mission. It will cost you everything. It will cost you your life."
The King lays his hands on the Prince's shoulders. "But do not be afraid!I go with you on this journey. I will be with you every step of the way. I will be with you there, just as I am here. When your mission is done we will be together again."
Taking in his father's words, the Prince nods his head and smiles. With shining eyes he turns and again looks out at the speck of light in the vast ocean of stars.
Reaching up to his head, he slowly removes his golden crown, and lays it on the bench next to him. Taking his golden sash in hand, he slides it off, folds it, and lays in on the bench next to him. Taking his golden sash in hand, he slides it off, folds it, and lays in on the bench.
The Prince closes his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he savors the sounds of the angelic choir. From the palace radiates the joyful chorus: "Worthy is the Lamb to receive honor and glory and praise."
Reaching down to his feet, the Prince removes his golden slippers. Then, slowly, he begins to pull his glistening white robe down from his shoulders.
*****
It is a brilliant, starry night in the village of Nazareth. Young Mary awakes from her slumber. Butterfly wings flutter in her womb. Sitting up in bed, she puts her hands on her stomach. She smiles. "The Angel's promise has come true!" she whispers. "God has come to save his people. Immanuel!"
Monday
The Art of Tubing
We were gone last weekend, enjoying ourselves at the lake, and gathering blog material. (Well, I was the only one worrying about that.) I discovered that some stories are best told in pictures (despite my adament faith in words) because try as I might, it is nearly impossible to make a ligible record-of-happenings while riding in a boat pulling a water skis or a tube, and trying to get good pictures for your mothers scrapbook.
So I resorted to photos. Oh, well, I couldn't resist a short blurp about the importance of pictures, and art of tubing.
The art of tubing requires several participants. The person-on-the-tube has perhaps the most dangerous job, because not only must he hold on for dear life, but he is also supposed to show off for the camera. The driver has the rather-boring-but-still-a-blast sort of job, because he has to drive *forever* to make sure everybody gets a ride, but he also has the opprotunity to whip them off the tube at will. The spotter has the easiest job, simply watch the tuber, and make sure the driver knows when the tube is empty. A.K.A. the person-on-the-tube took a spill. And finally the photographer. Ooh, my favorite. The photographer has to make sure that he gets the best pictures possible, lots of them, and yet doesn't fill the memory card or kill the batteries before the last tuber is done. It's difficult too, because the instant you think you've got plenty of pics, and put the camera away, the most exciting thing is sure to happen.
This is Friend-on-tube at the beginning of the ride.
Oops! Bad picture!
And the tube skips across the water, but the tuber hangs on tight! You can see the spray from the boat in front of my lense.
Tuber got some air...and I caught him as he was coming down!
Oops! Bye-bye tuber, don't forget to write!
Well, ok. We did swing around and pick him up.
Thursday
Sentences that make me smile... :-D
'Pollogies, that was a grin folks. I don't tend to make much distinction...
And just for your enjoyment, I thought I'd post some sentences that make me smile. If you are desperate to know where I pinched this idea, check out Friend Blogger's zany postings. On her own blog, that is.
1. "Soon I was pulling one of those floppy orange stocking caps over my head, you know the kind you can pull down to your chin, fold up seven inches, and still have a little dome on the top of your head."
And just for your enjoyment, I thought I'd post some sentences that make me smile. If you are desperate to know where I pinched this idea, check out Friend Blogger's zany postings. On her own blog, that is.
1. "Soon I was pulling one of those floppy orange stocking caps over my head, you know the kind you can pull down to your chin, fold up seven inches, and still have a little dome on the top of your head."
Storyfingers, Tradition
2. "When Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first (111) birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton."
J. R. R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring
3. "Thirty days, and a fine of $1000.00"
Storyfingers, On the spot...
4. "Helium Balloons bobbed about, pretending to be party guests."
Eric Berlin, The Puzzling World of Winston Breen
5. "Then the sun slid gently behind a hill, leaving a glow that gently hugged the tree tops."
Larissa Johnson, Poem
6. Winter is lights on everyone's house, and a blanked of frost covering everything in the mornings. In Minnesota, winter is sledding with friends, and enjoying hot chocolate afterwards."
Larissa Johnson, Poem
7. "Or ELSE..."
8."She was very little, indeed, and very pudgy, too, which made her almost exactly the size and shape of a fire hydrant, (a resemblance strengthened by her red raincoat and rosy cheeks.)"
Trenton Lee Stewart, The Mysterious Benedict Society
9. "He raised one eyebrow at that, and smiled in a singularly condesending and irritating manner, and opened his mouth to speak in that pricise drawl which is the trademark of the overly educated upper-class English gentleman."
Lori R. King, The Beekeeper's Aprentice
10. "In order to get a better sense of exactly how the Baudilauire orphans felt as they began the grueling journey up the stairs to Mr. and Mrs. Squalor's penthouse appartment, you might find it useful to close your eyes while reading this chapter, because the light fromt the candles on the ground was so dim that it felt like their eyes were closed even when they were looking as hard as they could."
Lemmony Snicket, The Ersatz Elevator
11. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" (We laughed, this gives us permission to do almost anything...)
W. F. (Mother of Occasional Commenter)
12. And last but certainly not least (this one makes me grin, no two ways about it...) "Wow, great post Storyfingers, I love it!!! :)"
Saturday
Friend Blogger :)
Hello all you people who probably don't know me! My name is Friend Blogger, apparently. I'm kinda excited to be here, doing my very first guest blog post! :) Storyfingers had to give me her password to do this. I think I might come back later and post under her name. Waddya say? :) So if you start noticing some really weird posts you'll know what happened.
OK, just kidding. I'll be good ... no really, I will. :)
So just in case you're wondering, the real reason I'm here is to post one of my stories. I based it off of my experiences raising Monarch butterflies. If you ever get the chance to raise your own, I highly recommend it!!!
OK, just kidding. I'll be good ... no really, I will. :)
So just in case you're wondering, the real reason I'm here is to post one of my stories. I based it off of my experiences raising Monarch butterflies. If you ever get the chance to raise your own, I highly recommend it!!!
Semmy and the Monarch
Semmy lugged an old aquarium into the porch and set it on a table. Gingerly, she propped some twigs against the inside of the dry aquarium. Next she picked up a handful of grass and let if fall through her dirty fingers, sprinkling the bottom of the aquarium.
“Perfect,” she said to herself with a grin that made her braces sparkle.
Semmy’s mom parked the van on the roadside and Semmy hopped out. The late August sunlight penetrated her squinted eyelids and burned her bare arms.
Semmy waded through tall weeds in the ditch, searching for something. She crouched beside some milkweed, her eyes darting back and forth. Behind her Mrs. Benson stepped out of the van and stood near the ditch. Her short brown hair whipped in the wind as she pointed to a different spike of milkweed.
“Try looking under that one,” Mrs. Benson said. Semmy squinted at her mother’s pointing hand and trudged toward the weed.
“Ouch!” she said as she rubbed her leg on a thistle. She stuck out her tongue at it, and walked to the milkweed. She crouched to look under the bottom leaf. Nothing there. She lifted the next leaf. Clinging beneath the third leaf she found what she was looking for. A fat Monarch caterpillar hung onto the leaf’s edge, his minuscule jaws working back and forth across a hole he had made.
“Found one!” Semmy yelled, pulling a Swiss Army knife from her pocket. She opened the sharpest blade and cut the stem of the milkweed. She picked up the weed and carried it back to the van, keeping her eye on the caterpillar and carefully avoiding thistles.
Semmy set the caterpillar and his milkweed on the backseat.
“I’m ready to go home,” she said to her mom as she climbed in back.
On the car ride Semmy gazed at the caterpillar beside her. His black, white, and yellow stripes looked smooth and soft. At one end he had a pair of dainty black antennae that twitched back and forth. At his other end there was what looked like a shorter pair of antennae. Semmy was confused for a moment about which end was his head, and then smiled at herself. Of course, the end with the tiny jaws and longest antennae was his head.
Back home, Semmy picked up the milkweed stalk and carried it onto the sunny porch. She peered at the caterpillar who had stopped eating when she picked up the milkweed he clung to. Semmy propped the milkweed up in the aquarium for food.
“Welcome home,” she whispered to the caterpillar as she snapped on the mesh lid of the aquarium.
Each day, Semmy peered through the fingerprinted glass aquarium to watch the caterpillar. Every time she looked at him, his tiny jaws were munching milkweed. After two days Semmy noticed the milkweed was getting shriveled. She called her Mom and asked her to bring home some fresh stalks.
That evening, Mrs. Benson stepped out of the van carrying a handful of milkweed.
“Thanks Mom!” Semmy said, giving her mom a quick squeeze. She took the leaves and ran to the porch. Lifting the mesh lid of the aquarium, she pulled out the old milkweed. She shook it and tiny black pellets fell from the leaves.
“Yuck,” she said wrinkling her nose. “Caterpillar poo.” She put the old leaves in a garbage bag and put the fresh milkweed in the aquarium. As she worked she sniffed the heavy scent of fresh milkweed mingled with the scent of old and drying. It smelled just like late summer should.
The next afternoon Semmy laughed when she saw the caterpillar.
“Silly guy,” she said to him, as he hung upside-down on the lid. He had curled himself into a J shape, but didn’t move. Semmy lifted one eyebrow, then smiled again and walked away.
Semmy woke the next morning and went to the porch in her pajamas. The sunlight already shone through the windows. Semmy stepped onto a square of sun and yawned. She shuffled over to the aquarium and stopped. In the exact place where the caterpillar had hung, there was now a bright green chrysalis! It dangled in the sunlight and tiny golden spots shimmered in a row along the top. Semmy grinned.
The chrysalis sat unchanging for five days. Semmy grew impatient. But slowly she began to notice a difference. The bright jade color was fading, and within a few days Semmy admired a jet black chrysalis. Semmy watched each day in amazement as the chrysalis began fading again, until it was crystal clear. Inside she saw the crumpled wings of a Monarch butterfly. The bright orange and deep black patches shimmered through the clear chrysalis.
Any day now, Semmy thought.
Two mornings later, Semmy lay in bed looking at the sunlight dancing on her wall. Suddenly she remembered the butterfly. Maybe he would come out today! Semmy forgot about being sleepy. She ran to the porch and there, holding onto the empty chrysalis was a Monarch butterfly! His wings were only an inch long and were sadly crumpled and wet. Semmy crouched by the aquarium and stared at the newborn, just inches from her face. Tiny black feet clung to the chrysalis shell which still dangled from the mesh lid. Suddenly Semmy wanted to hold the butterfly. She ran inside where her mom was sipping coffee.
“Come quick! I need your help!” Semmy said.
“What is it?” Mrs. Benson asked in alarm.
“The butterfly! He’s come out!” Semmy said. Her mother laughed and set her coffee mug on a coaster.
“Lead the way!” she said, tying the sash around her bathrobe.
Semmy and Mrs. Benson crouched in front of the aquarium. Semmy noticed the butterfly’s wings had begun to expand, slowly.
“Can I hold him?” Semmy asked.
“I guess, but we’ll have to lift the lid carefully. We don’t want to shake up the little guy!”
Semmy took one end of the lid and her mom took the other. Slowly they lifted, but Semmy’s edge stuck. She yanked and the lid popped up. Semmy jumped as she saw the fragile butterfly jerk and swing on the chrysalis. Semmy glanced worriedly at her mom.
“It’s okay,” Mrs. Benson said. “Careful now.” The butterfly hung on as the lid lifted gently. Mrs. Benson grabbed the center of the lid so Semmy could let go.
“Now put your finger next to his feet and he should climb on,” Mrs. Benson instructed. Semmy reached over, every move of her hand seemed big and clumsy. She put her finger near the butterfly’s dainty feet and he climbed on! Semmy smiled but didn’t dare laugh for fear of jerking the Monarch. She stared at her finger. The butterfly hung upside down, his wings still uselessly cramped, but getting longer. Semmy was looking so closely that she saw each ridge in her finger as the Monarch grabbed them with his feet. The Monarch rolled his black proboscis out and in curling it into a perfect roll. He lifted one of his feet experimentally, tapping Semmy’s finger.
Semmy walked quietly toward the door. Each time she set her foot down the butterfly swayed on her finger. Semmy stepped into the sunshine. The butterfly stretched his soft wings a little farther, as they swayed in the gentle morning breeze. The Monarch climbed to the top of Semmy’s finger and flapped his wings slowly. The wings grew. Semmy was too busy staring at the butterfly to notice her mom, who had come out to watch.
The butterfly flapped a little stronger, getting the circulation pumping through his wings.
Within ten minutes his wings stood straight and were gaining strength. Semmy peered at the orange wings and black veins. Tiny white spots lined the edges of his wings and speckled his fuzzy black head. As he opened his wings experimentally, Semmy noticed the black fuzz on his body.
After twenty minutes the butterfly was still drying his wings in the sun. Suddenly Semmy’s stomach growled.
“I forgot breakfast,” she whispered, still watching the Monarch who shimmered in the breeze. Mrs. Benson got a stick and put it under the Monarch’s feet. He climbed on and tapped the stick with his feet. Mrs. Benson carried him gently to a flowerpot and stuck the other end of the stick in the dirt. The butterfly slowly climbed down the stick, still flapping his wings.
Semmy glanced once more at him and ran into the house. In two minutes she was back outside munching her toast.
The butterfly sat on his stick for another twenty minutes, posing for the many pictures Semmy snapped. But suddenly he gave a strong flap and lifted into the air. He fluttered hard and gained altitude, flying to the neighbors wash line. He landed on a dancing sheet, his black and orange wings contrasting beautifully against the snowy bedding. He gave another flap and flew towards the sun.
“Bye!” Semmy called, watching until he flew out of sight.
Friend Blogger
I would like to introduce to you all my friend and fellow blogger, who goes by the name "Three And A Half Bloggers". She is also known as my "Faithful commenter"...and I am hers. You can find her blog at www.threeandahalfbloggers.blogspot.com. I can verify that Friend Blogger has a very random blog with very random posts, with very random topics and very random comments.
All that aside, Friend Blogger is a very random person. Her happy list includes pomelgranites, projects, pickles, plants, and Pointe shoes. She apparently also enjoys writing...maybe that falls under projects. I will be posting one of her stories shortly, so watch my blog. Her writing is as random as she is.
All that aside, Friend Blogger is a very random person. Her happy list includes pomelgranites, projects, pickles, plants, and Pointe shoes. She apparently also enjoys writing...maybe that falls under projects. I will be posting one of her stories shortly, so watch my blog. Her writing is as random as she is.
Wednesday
"Tradition"
Deep in the soul of my family is a trait that lies hidden for most of the year but becomes manifest in mid-November. Hunting is our heritage, it's become a tradition handed down for generations.
The transformation comes about a week before deer season. Table conversation shifts from politics and homework to antler size and deer sightings. Suddenly nobody gives you a funny look for butting into a conversation with new information about buck sign somebody saw somewhere.
The last week in October we go down to Grandpa's farm to sight in the guns. With awed silence we take our guns out of the cabinet. The polished stocks and long barrels gleam like old friends. Now Grandpa has a modern sighting table, stool and sighting rest, but up until a few years ago, it was an old desk with homemade sand bags. We hand a target on the old oak tree; Dad and Grandpa have been sighting in their guns on that oak since Dad was 10. As I sit on the comfortable chair and aim at the target, I envision the soft brown of a buck, make that a 14-point buck, moving into my scope, stopping in line with my cross-hairs...BOOM!!! Dad gives me a wry grin. I've missed the bulls eye by 6 inches. I watch the buck leaping away...while Dad adjusts my scope.
Finally the hallowed "Friday Before" comes. we haul out the dusty tree stands and carrying packs; snow pants and orange parkas resurface once again. We all pile into the old 2 by 4 truck that has been hauling us around since I was born--16 years ago. It's and extended cab but it feels like they just crammed the extra seats in without bothering to extend anything. by the time we reach Grandpa's place, I am insanely jealous of the excess room sardines have in their cans.
I love the feeling of freedom that surrounds us at Deer Camp. My brother Josiah takes full advantage of his burping rights.
When we enter the house, aromas waft around us, beckoning us to the table. The table groans with its load. Creamed corn, like a fluffy golden cloud, sets in the center. Tender pork roasts adorned with some delightful sauce taunt me. Fresh bread, still warm, is next to the butter. Then somebody starts the storytelling and we reminisce about hunting yarns of years gone by.
We kids listen in awe as Dad and Grandpa describe colorful characters such as "Speed", who was named for his lack thereof. He had the same general shape as a fishing bobber and was always appearing in the most hilarious stories. Then there were tales about "The Big One" that got away, or that legendary lucky shot, "I dropped it in its tracks..."
Always, we ask about the "Ham and Raisin Sauce" story. No, Grandpa shakes his head, "I only tell that one every twenty years."
5:17 a.m. Saturday morning brings a rude awakening. I begin to wonder why I wanted to hunt in the first place. Slowly I trudge up the stairs. Soon I am pulling one of those big floppy orange stocking caps over my head: you know the kind that you can pull down to your chin, fold up about 7 inches, and still have a little dome on the top of your head. Soon we are sitting in the stand.
I usually divide sitting in the stand into about three segments. The first 5 minutes are wonderful; the next half-an-hour or so is quite tolerable; the rest is a sit-out contest between me and Time: Time always wins.
Within 15 minutes I've broken my first resolution to sit still. After that the resolutions come and go at a rate of about one minute. During the last hour, questions begin racing through my mind; questions like: Am I really sitting on a cushion or is it a rock? Why did I get up this morning: Is it just me or have we been sitting here for about three days? I feel myself going crazy; Pain is good...pain is goon... I chant to myself.
Eventually I hear the words I've been waiting for.
"Let's go in," Dad says. What an angel he is. I have new respect, not to mention sudden and overwhelming gratitude, for my dad now.
Soon I find myself sitting in the back seat of the truck on the way to do a few drives. Dad pulls up at Grandpa's quarter section and I follow him and Josh across the field. We've jumped a deer from this quarter section every year; it's always our first drive on opening morning. We approach the strand of trees from downwind. Dad walks around to the left, and Josh takes the other side. I take the middle, so I can push the deer towards them. I take deep breaths of the fresh air and admire the ancient cottonwoods rising majestically from the long grass. Suddenly gunshots explode on my left. I hurry to join the excitement. Actually, I try, but "Hurry" is not easily accomplished when I'm walking in grass that's over my head. Dad is grinning.
"He's down," Josh reassures me. My heart pounds on my rib cage as if it is trying to break out. Even Buck fever is a welcome tradition.
In the evening, I find myself again sitting around the supper table. This time Dad relates to Grandpa our adventures. He and Josh have both shot a buck. When everyone looks expectantly at me, I tell them I'm waiting for the big one.
The next day, Sunday, we sit in the stand again. By the afternoon, the wind has picked up and it is time to go home.
On the way home the others talk and chatter excitedly about the next weekend. They don't want to look beyond that yet. I know that deer season will end soon, but the tradition must never end.
Tuesday
Alternate storytelling--The Sea Awaits Me
Mett Art-maniac, my younger sister... "Needless to say, I prefer a thousand words. Nonetheless, I do enjoy a good story, and writing is a fun activity, especially with my sister. We also enjoy singing together, riding horse, and goofing off, but enough on that. Catch y'all later!"
So my sister and I decided to write an alternate story. She wrote a paragraph, then I wrote a paragraph, and so on and so forth. We titled our story, "The Sea Awaits Me." We've labeled who wrote which paragraph. This is a great party activity, though you might have to use sentences instead of paragraphs. Try it!
Storyfingers:
"The sea called. I could hear it in my heart when I was away, and I could hear its voice ans I ran down the beach towards my cove."
Art-maniac:
"I breathed in the lovely smell of salt water. The very ocean lay at my feet. Deep oranges and pinks embellished the sunset. "Oh...it's all so beautiful!" I thought, as I tore off my socks and shoes. "And so cold!"
Storyfingers:
"I rolled up my pants and winced as I waded over the sharp rocks. Silvery minnows nibbled at my legs, and I giggled. I sat down on a long rock and watched a starfish trapped in a tide pool. Slimy green algae swished around him. A grin spread over my face."
Art-maniac:
"As I sat there, I lost all track of time; everything around me lay so peacefully. The sun soon surrendered hits fight for the sky and the moon and the stars began to appear."
Storyfingers:
"A shiver brought me out of my reverie and I realized how late it was. Still, I was reluctant to leave the shore. This hidden seaside cove was my sanctuary, my refuge. Somehow, the sea always had a calming effect on me. So I sat and shivered on, alone in the silence of the gently lapping waters."
Art-maniac:
"Finally I reluctantly got up and grabbed my bible off the sand. I started toward the path. Finding the stone steps, I ran up them quickly. Long trailing vines covered the cliff into which the stairs had been carved. I had always loved the way the vines looked in the starlight."
Storyfingers:
"At the top I paused and looked down on my beautiful secret. I would return. I could never remain long, but always I would return to my place of solitude, where the sea awaited me."
So my sister and I decided to write an alternate story. She wrote a paragraph, then I wrote a paragraph, and so on and so forth. We titled our story, "The Sea Awaits Me." We've labeled who wrote which paragraph. This is a great party activity, though you might have to use sentences instead of paragraphs. Try it!
Storyfingers:
"The sea called. I could hear it in my heart when I was away, and I could hear its voice ans I ran down the beach towards my cove."
Art-maniac:
"I breathed in the lovely smell of salt water. The very ocean lay at my feet. Deep oranges and pinks embellished the sunset. "Oh...it's all so beautiful!" I thought, as I tore off my socks and shoes. "And so cold!"
Storyfingers:
"I rolled up my pants and winced as I waded over the sharp rocks. Silvery minnows nibbled at my legs, and I giggled. I sat down on a long rock and watched a starfish trapped in a tide pool. Slimy green algae swished around him. A grin spread over my face."
Art-maniac:
"As I sat there, I lost all track of time; everything around me lay so peacefully. The sun soon surrendered hits fight for the sky and the moon and the stars began to appear."
Storyfingers:
"A shiver brought me out of my reverie and I realized how late it was. Still, I was reluctant to leave the shore. This hidden seaside cove was my sanctuary, my refuge. Somehow, the sea always had a calming effect on me. So I sat and shivered on, alone in the silence of the gently lapping waters."
Art-maniac:
"Finally I reluctantly got up and grabbed my bible off the sand. I started toward the path. Finding the stone steps, I ran up them quickly. Long trailing vines covered the cliff into which the stairs had been carved. I had always loved the way the vines looked in the starlight."
Storyfingers:
"At the top I paused and looked down on my beautiful secret. I would return. I could never remain long, but always I would return to my place of solitude, where the sea awaited me."
Why a Thousand Words?
"A Picture's Worth A Thousand Words."
We've all heard it. Photographers love it. But I prefer a thousand words. That's how I named this blog. In the future, I'll be posting stories, writing tips, and perhaps even holding "Thousand Word" contests. Prepare for wild topics, and interesting writing projects.
Here's something to keep you going until I can post a real story.
We've all heard it. Photographers love it. But I prefer a thousand words. That's how I named this blog. In the future, I'll be posting stories, writing tips, and perhaps even holding "Thousand Word" contests. Prepare for wild topics, and interesting writing projects.
Here's something to keep you going until I can post a real story.
Recently my family and I went on vacation. It wasn't a typical vacation, with lawn chairs, a lake, and sunscreen. We went to Illinois, Kentucky, Tennesse, Virginia, and even Ohio. (Ok, Ohio was only five minutes...) As usual, we had plenty of adventures. I learned to expect the unexpected, because I know I'll still be surprised. (I'm still figureing that out too.) Anyway, here's a list of what I learned.
1. Sunscreen in more important than Sunburn Gel.
2. Lincoln worked several jobs in New Salem, Illinois.
3. Mosquito's are bearable if you aren't melting.
4. Heat is bearable if there aren't mosquito's.
5. The Lincoln Troubadour singers are amazing!
6. Guys with tattoos and long hair with trucks that light on fire can be really nice people.
7. How to minimize bathroom stops on the road...Got that down to a science!
8. Navigating Springfield, Illinois, is next to impossible.
9. East or West, Home is best.
10. Sitting still for twelve hours is actually possible.
11. Sitting still for twelve hours with nowhere to put your feet, a suitcase on your lap, and your brother's feet in your face is a lot more difficult.
12. I miss my dog to much to leave home for three weeks again.
13. Always Always Always write it down!
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