As Christians, our lives are not ours. Our time is not ours. My time is not mine.
Lately, I have felt a call on my heart to devote the time that I spend blogging to God. That may mean volunteering or just studying the word, or praying, but I know that I am finished with blogger.
I would also encourage you to take a look at the time that you spend blogging, or looking at blogs and see if you can put it to better use.
So, as a set-in-iron resolution this year is to not blog. It is kind of an odd resolution, but I am going to stick to it.
New videos that Bracie and I make will be on Bracie's blog. The two posts below are some of my best videos and posts. I hope you enjoy them!
2 Corinthians 9:8 And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.
I have the time that I spend blogging. I can spend it 'abounding in good works' and by God's grace I will try it this year.
Remember everyone: April 22 is talk like Shakespeare day
December 8 is Act like a Time Traveler day
September 19th is Talk like a Pirate Day
December 5 is day of the ninja
August 8 is sneak some zucchinis on your neighbors porch.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
As Christians, our lives are not ours. Our time is not ours. My time is not mine.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Habitat. The word conotates a natural home, a perfect environment, the right place, a sense of belonging. Today, when I went out to feed the pets, I was unnerved to discover clucking coming from the horses' stalls. We own four chickens, and I found two inside.
Hm. 4-2=2. I trotted over to the chicken coop/run to see if the others were already inside.
I discovered a little more than I bargained for. Trapped in the tiny coop was my beautiful horse! He was caught, held inside by my two evil chickens, who would flap their wings every time he attempted to get out.
Eventually, I got the poor dear out, but the event made me laugh: I found the chickens in the horse stall, and the horse in the chicken coop.
I never would have guessed that in the scenario: horse vs. chicken, chicken would come out on top!
Help! I need a name for a male villain.
He is very, very awesome. He just doesn't have a name. =(
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Tonight, Ophelia (me!) neglected to defrost the chicken need for the night's dinner. (Wait, did I say that was me? heheh.) Consequently, there was no dinner. Therefore, her Mom made an executive decision to order pizza. Can you imagine the reaction?
Bracie, Gabby (who happened to be over) and Ophelia crept to a corner and feverishly began to whisper. Conspiratorial grins snuck over their faces, and Ophelia rubbed her fingers together.
Gabby's eyes gleamed. "Something must be done!"
"Singing!" Bracie hissed.
Ophelia cackled. "We should sing sppspspspspspspsps [insert movie-ish whispers here] and then spspspspspspppsppppspspppstchhhhhh? [etc.]"
"What?" Bracie said, and Ophelia abandoned whispering and switched to giggling.
"We should sing Time to Say Goodbye!!!" Ophelia said.
Bracie countered her. "No! We should sing When You Say You Love Me!"
Gabrielle asked, "But what if it's a pizza delivery girl?
Bracie shot her a withering look. "Then we sing Happy Birthday."
"I am all for singing When You Say You Love Me- as long as we make it obvious that we are singing to the pizza."
When the eagerly anticipated knock came, we crowded around the door. After commencing such details, as... paying... we burst into operatic song. Our voices rose, melodious (well, more or less,) and enthusiastic (to say the least.)
The look on his face? Priceless. As he walked away, rather quickly (for some odd reason), we switched songs.
Time toooooooooo say goooooooodbye!!!!
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Torvill and Dean. Because today it snowed. And then it melted.
It left me in a wintry mood, so I had to post this quintessential ice dance.
puffed by The Reluctant Dragon at 10:40 AM
Friday, December 18, 2009
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Because, as I heard in an impromptu speech at club today, bells are important.
Bell choirs, yes or no?
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
And by erg, I mean ahrg, to those of you who speak pirate rather than English.
I didn't maliciously stop following your blog. My following box just POOF! ceased to be filled with all the marvelous blogs that I usually visit. I guess I followed one too many or something?
Anybody know how to fix this?
Update: Nevermind! It magically started working. I am sure you can imagine my grin.
Ahem. Following this announcement, let it hereby be known that the author of this blog, (in name, Ophelia. [But I'm sure you all knew that.]) is taking the following weeks off of blogging to do the following:
Making utterly ridiculous (and hopefully delightful) movies.
Writing dramatic and tragic short stories. Okay, so maybe there'll be a couple slightly humorous ones.
Polishing her school work
Reading the Grapes of Wrath
Riding her lovely horses through the snow
Romping with her magnificent (and maybe smelly) doggies through the mud
Caroling until someone throws tomatoes
Stuffing her face with holiday baked goods
Wishing random persons a Merry Christmas
Putting together presents
Slapping together strange and mysterious and likely awe striking Christmas crafts for her siblings to do
And altogether banging people on the head with Christmas cheer until they join her or perish.
This isn't to say she will not post. Hopefully that will happen. Hopefully. But rather to state that Christmas is taking precedence over the internet, which is right and good and proper.
puffed by The Reluctant Dragon at 7:48 PM
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Procrastinators unite! ...some time later.
I already have several ideas up my sleeve, but does anyone have extra ideas on how to soak a pizza person without harming the pizza? (Hehe! You have got to love my priorities.)
Friday, December 4, 2009
If you establish pizza as your dinner, you establish it as a goal, yes?
Which is alright. If you don't let it deprive you of interesting detours. Any experienced mischief maker will tell you that pranks are (at the very least) interesting detours.
So cometh a series of posts. I call "101 ways to make life miserable, Oops! I mean interesting, for pizza boys." By writing this series, I hope to provide some excitement in dreary routine. I promise to fill your mind with some delightful ideas which can be practised on your local pizza person.
Let's establish that by pizza boy, I mean the-person-who-shows-up-at-the-door-bearing-Italian-bread-circles-topped-with-tomato-sauce-and-other-such-deliciousness, be they man, woman, boy, or girl.
The inspiration for this fantastic scheme was provided when, two days ago, we ordered out for pizza and the world's Most Boring Pizza Dude in the history of the universe delivered the food.
Bracie, Gabby, and I looked long and hard at each other and decided that something had to change. Break the monotony! Salvage these humans from dullness! Provided a spark of hilarity!
You. Be the change. When I post Pizza Pranks, dare to detour! Hurrah! Huzzah! And all that.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
The forces of nature and the principles of science have been conspiring against me.
It's true. They are malignant, always seeking to bring me down. Why? I don't know. Go ask a hurricance. But, every morning for the past week, they have sought to keep me from waking up at a decent time. I want to get up at seven. It is an apt time, because much earlier, and I won't get up at all. *blushes* Yes, it is too true: I am sadly um, sad, when it comes to getting up. The malicious forces of nature and principles of science know this, and are using it to my disadvantage.
How? It's all a matter of alarm clocks. Through a startling discovery I made in the past couple days, I now know what the lowest point of gravity is on an alarm clock.
In researching the subject, I found this poignant quote: "“Gravity is a myth, the Earth stinks."
First of all, that quote can't be true, because, well, people in Australia aren't falling off the side of the earth. Secondly and more importantly, it is true because my alarm clock doesn't wake me up at 7 in the morning. It wakes me up at the lowest point of gravity. 6.
Yesterday, (at 6 a.m., I might add) I found that the spring which holds the alarm in place on my analog clock is broken. Don't even think of that! It was gravity's fault, not mine! It broke when it fell, and the world fell determines that gravity was involved.
So every morning, the alarm sets itself to six and wakes me up too early, which in turn causes me to fall back asleep, which in turn causes me to wake up at eight, not seven, which in turn causes me to miss my morning run, which in turn causes me to not be tired at ten p.m. when I'm supposed to be going to bed!
In conclusion, alarm clocks are ruining my life. I am now protesting gravity.
(And in case you know me, yes, this is the clock that I got from Z at a white elephant gift exchange two Christmasses ago.)