The Reluctant Dragon

Time to say Goodbye!

2009-12-31T16:12:00.000-08:00

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.

Stay Weird!

Some of my favorite posts...

2009-12-31T16:05:00.000-08:00

I fear. In which I reveal my fear to the world...

I go on an adventure In which I save the world. Sort of.

Wishes. In which I turn 14.

My fan club. 1, 2, 3 3.5 Ha! You didn't think I had one, did you?

Typical Bracie

The Country Bumpkins Visit the Big City

With Every Christmas Card I Write...

Fishynessishness

Ophelia, the car-jacking hoodlam.

Story

Mr. Leif B. Gonn

Enjoy!

Hope you enjoy!

2009-12-31T15:53:00.000-08:00

Battle of the Armrest

The Latest to Today Show Episodes:

The Alphabets

Celtic Zucchinis

Annnnddddd...

Elderly Elevator

We clean our room!!

Happy Birthday Mom!

Let it Snow

I'm gonna...

Giles

Horse vs. Chicken

2009-12-30T20:52:00.000-08:00

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!

2009-12-30T20:49:00.001-08:00

Help! I need a name for a male villain.

He is very, very awesome. He just doesn't have a name. =(

Pizza Pranks #2

2009-12-29T18:33:00.000-08:00

As promised...

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!!!!

And now the famous...

2009-12-22T10:40:00.000-08:00

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.

Dreamy, aint he?

2009-12-18T23:10:00.000-08:00

I love Schroeder.

Merrily on high...

2009-12-17T18:14:00.000-08:00

Because, as I heard in an impromptu speech at club today, bells are important.

Bell choirs, yes or no?

Erg.

2009-12-15T20:55:00.000-08:00

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.

Excuses.

2009-12-15T19:48:00.001-08:00

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.

My current motto:

2009-12-12T13:17:00.000-08:00

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.)

Pizza Pranks #1

2009-12-04T16:06:00.000-08:00

Establishing goals is all right if you don't let them deprive you of interesting detours. ~Doug Larson

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.

Protest gravity!

2009-12-03T07:10:00.000-08:00

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.)

Today is the end.

2009-11-30T11:14:00.000-08:00

NonNaNo: Lately, I've been feeling so lost and alone. My soul is woeful
NaNo: [Mutters] Absolutely clackety-click. Forty-seven thousand, three hundred sixty three.
NonNaNo: My heart is so heavy! It seems as though I have no where to turn. Except for you. We haven't talked much this past month, and I miss our heart to heart conversations.
NaNo: Absolutely. [feverishly] Forty-seven thousand, three hundred seventy two.
NonNaNo: They improve my outlook so much! So, what's your advice for me?
NaNo: Absolutely. Without a doubt.
NonNaNo: Are you even listening to me? Life is so empty! No one cares about me.
NaNo: [in a preoccupied manner] Absolutely.
NonNaNo: Uhg! The anguish! What shall I do?
NaNo: If you were an elf being chased by a Minotaur, and you were about to fall off a cliff, what would you do? I need help. I'm stuck in my story? What shall I do? I have four thousand words to write. Help!
NonNaNo: [draws up from the floor on which she had been sobbing] Absolutely.

Today is the day. Today is the time. Today is the day that all you poor NaNoWriMo ers desparately scramble to scratch out those last three thousand words. We NonNaNoers, let us take a universal moment of silence to pity those souls.

Perhaps not, let's rejoice! Family of NaNo ers, let's unanimously throw metaphysical hats in the air. Huzzah! After today, our siblings/relatives will return to us! Gone will be the days of lonely contemplation as my beloved sister types and clacks away at the old keyboard.

Tomorrow we celebrate the return of the authors!

Ready yet?

2009-11-27T11:45:00.000-08:00

Ready? Huh? Huh? Huh? How 'bout now? Now? NOW?

Can you tell that I am EAGERLY anticipating Christmas? The following are several comics that resonate beautifully with my frame of mind this season of joy, festivity, etc. etc.

Right.

(Click to make bigger)

Up.

2009-11-24T22:19:00.000-08:00

Up is the new cool. Cool is not up. Up.

No, I am not talking about a fantastical children's animation. No, I am not referring to a weird song by the second rate country singer Shania Twain. No, I am not mentioning the name of the United Polictics party.

Up is the new positive adjective.

So, Lib, from Random Jotdowns beat me to writing it in a blog post, but I am now announcing the eve of a new term for what used to be "cool." I even have the effrontery to suppose that it could unseat the vague, "awesome. "

WARNING:

"Up" is not for wannabees or for the fainthearted. It must be said with a lazy assurance that conotates absolute conviction. After it is uttered, it may NOT be followed with an explanation. Otherwise, you're trying too hard.

By the way, I am calling down the fury of a thousand evil poodles on whoever wrote the Very Personal Tag that's been going around. Blech. =P

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

2009-11-23T19:42:00.001-08:00

I AM LISTENING TO CHRISTMAS MUSIC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I just had to let y'all know. Usually, we wait until atfter Thanksgiving, but I couldn't resist. =D

Interesting question:

Do you think that Thanksgiving will slowly become forgotton because it's not a very marketable holiday?

Tournament Attire.

2009-11-22T21:03:00.001-08:00

At speech tournaments, we are all required to wear professional... wear. You know, suits and sweaters and pencil skirts and that sort of thing. The type of garment that induces everyone to suppose you are older than you really are. The sort of clothing that, combined with a brisk walk, sends everyone running out of your way, because you look like you have somewhere to be, some deadline to fill, something IMPORTANT to be doing. Professional wear.

Anyhow, as I sat waiting outside of my Apologetics room, I overheard a interesting conversation. A young man woefully said,

"It's not fair. Girls don't have to worry about keeping their shirts tucked in all the time."

"No kidding!" his friend responded. "Plus they don't have to wear ties."

HA! If only they knew. HA! Why? Because girls are supposed to wear hose to be professional. And you can't get much worse than that. Ties and tucked in shirts don't even compare.
Wincing from the pain from my Very Professional, Very Uncomfortable high heels, I turned back to my apologetics box and said nothing.

Hehe! I can't believe I typed out the word: hose! Don't tell anybody. =D

Home Sweet Home!

2009-11-21T21:09:00.000-08:00

I have sore feet. From walking around in high heels for a day...
I have chapped lips. From talking way too much...
I have incredibly messy hair. Good thing that's not on the ballot.

G'Night!

Speech Tournament!

2009-11-21T08:15:00.000-08:00

"Of course, people are silly to worry. Just because one of of every four boats hits an iceberg, it doesn't mean that we will." ~Dick Winters, Drama on the High Seas. (Bracie and my interpretation piece.)

Today is a Round Robin speech tournament. AAAAAhhhh!

This will be interesting. I suppose tomorrow I'll have lots of hilarious messups to write about. That's a rather disturbing thought.

I. love. Gerber.

2009-11-19T07:49:00.000-08:00

And I don't mean baby food. Here are three of my Gerber knives. Aren't they beauts?

The latest acquisition:

Sorry. I am in a violent mood today. Bear with me as best you can.

The fateful twelve...

2009-11-18T18:00:00.000-08:00

First, list twelve characters from any fandom, then answer the questions below.

1. Curdie, from the Princess and the Goblin He's the shorter miner.

2. Bertie Wooster, from Jeeves and Wooster

3. Elsie Dimsnore from Elsie Dinsmore. (Prepare yourselves for some Elsie-bashing, people.)

4. Henry Huggins, from Beverly Clearly's work.

5. Johnny Tremain

6. D'Artagnan, from the Three Musketeers

7. Faramir. Because I had to have someone from Lord of the Rings

8. Alice, from Alice in Wonderland

9. Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle

10. Sunny Baudelaire Series of Unfortunate Events

11. Fay, from That Thing You Do. She's the wardrobe management. Oh yeah. Actually, her job is to hold sunglasses for Guy. (She's Liv Tyler in the middle)

12. Ludovic Lavenham ~The Talisman Ring. He's a exicitable smuggler who likes to shoot people. Tragically, I could not find a picture for him, but he's awesome.

1. Who would make a better collage prof, 6 or 11? D'Artagnan is rather lacking in the brains department, so probably Fay. She could teach music I guess.

2. Do you think #2 is hot? Okayyyyyy. Not my preferred adjective. Bertie Wooster? He thinks mustaches are goodlooking. Need I say more?

3. 12 sends 8 out on a mission. What is it? Does it succeed? Ludovic sends Alice on a mission. Hmmm. I think he would tell Alice to marry Beau Lavenham so that she could inspect his jewelry collection for a talisman ring. Yeah. Actually, that's scarily realistic.

4. What is or what would be 9's favorite book? Mrs. PiggleWiggle's favorite book would probably be 1001 Recipies for Delicious Cookies. That woman is a gem.

. Would it make more since for 2 to swear fealty to 6, or the other way around? Bertie Wooster would swear fealty to any scary-dude with a sword, and then promptly forget about it. D'Artagnan would swear fealty to any pretty girl who chanced his way. As Bertie is not a pretty woman and as D'Artagnan is a scary-looking dude with a sword, I think Bertie would swear fealty. And Jeeves would get him out of it, of course.

.6. For some reason, 5 is looking for a roommate. Should (s)he room with 9 or 10? Johnny Tremain should stay with Mrs. Piggle Wiggle so she can cure him of all his vices. Everyone should stay with Mrs. PW.

.7. 2, 7 and 12 are going out to dinner. Where do they go and what do they discuss? Bertie Wooster, Ludovic Lavenham, and Faramir. Wow. First of all, Bertie only came because his Aunt Agatha made him. He takes everybody to the "Mottled Oyster" a cheap nightclub. Although he tries to tell the party about the prize he won for scripture knowledge in grammar school, Faramir and Ludovic start fighting. (Of course.) Faramir is convinced that a flaming arrow can do as much damage as a pistol. Ludovic disagrees. They start firing projectiles at the candlebra in an attempt to prove their marksmanship.

8. 3 challenges 10 to a duel, who wins?

Sunny easily wins. In the first place, Elsie is such a coward that the only person she can challenge is a baby. But right before Sunny immobilzes Elsie with her razor-teeth, Elsie calls for her daddy. Coward.

9. If 1 stole 8's most precious possession, how would (s)he get it back? Curdie would never, ever, ever steal. It goes against everything in him.

10. Suggest a story title in which 7 and 12 both attain what they desire. Hmmm. Faramir's desire is Eowyn. Ludovic's desire is a golden ring. How to fit that in a title?

11. What kind of plot device would you have to use if you wanted 1 and 4 to work together? I'd tell Curdie that Henry Huggins was surronded by goblins who were mussing his hair. Then Curdie would appear, full of powerful rhymes to drive 'em away.

12. If 7 visited you for the weekend, how would it go? Great! We'd give each other haircuts. And go riding. And I'd make Faramir teach me archery. Plus, we'd get into metaphysical discussions on the proper method for running a nation.

13. If you could command 3 to perform any service or task for you, what would it be? What could Elsie do for me? I don't think she CAN do ANYTHING! I know: I'd get her to knit a purse for me, just so I could keep her occupied and AWAY FROM ME!

14. Does anyone on your friends list write or draw 11? Nope. Poor Sunny isn't exactly a romantic figure.

If 2 had to choose sides between 4 and 5, what side would (s)he choose? Bertie would ask Jeeves, and then do whatever he'd say.

16. What might 10 shout out while charging into battle? Sunny can't talk yet.

17. If you had to choose a song to best describe 8, what would it be? I haven't a clue.

18. 1, 6 and 12 are having a dim sum at a Chinese Restaurant. There is only one scallion pancake left, and they all reach for it at the same time. Who gets it?

Curdie, D'Artagnan, Ludovic. Hmmm. D'Artagnan would challenge Ludovic to a duel over it. While they fought, Curdie would promptly snatch and eat it.

19. What would be a good pickup line for 2 to say to 10? I think Sunny is a little young for Bertie.

20. What would 5 most likely be arrested for?

Well, he WAS arrested for stealing a silver cup, but he was innocent.

21. What is 6's secret? D'Artagnan likes to fancy himself full of secrets. Which one to choose?

22. If 11 and 9 were racing to a destination, who would get there first? Definitely Fay. Athletics isn't Mrs. PW's thing.

23. If you had to walk home through a bad neighborhood late at night, who would you feel more comfortable walking with, 7 or 8? Absolutely Faramir. Alice isn't exactly physically powerful.

24. 1 and 9 reluctantly team up to save the world from the threat posed by 4's sinister secret organization. 11 volunteers to help them,but it is later discovered that s/he is actually a spy for 4. Meanwhile, 4 has kidnapped 12 in an attempt to force their surrender. Following the wise advice of 5, they seek out 3, who gives them what they need to complete their quest. What title would you give this fic? Curdie and Mrs. PW, team up against Henry? No. They like children. Fay isn't subtle enought to spy, Henry is incapable of capturing Ludovic, and Elsie couldn't complete anything. Coward.

Whew! That's a long tag. I hope I didn't bore you to tears. I hope you actually know who some of those characters are.

Anywho, I tag:

Phil Wordy,

Bethany

Equus Delirus

SPLUFF!

2009-11-17T22:18:00.000-08:00

SPLUFF! Spluff.

Spluff. It is the melodiac sound of...

A cream pie hitting you in the face!

My friend, Quipster. came up with that particular onomatopoeia. Many thanks. I'm addicted to saying it. If I had more time, I think I would bake a cream pie exclusively for the pleasure of spluffing some hapless soul in the face with it.

Speaking of time, I don't have much of that elusive stuff to spend blogging. So, go read Problematic's awesome blog. She does things like waltz in the rain and ponder the meaning of gummy bears.

Besides, if you read my blog too much longer, you're liable to get hit in the face with a cream pie.

Swamped.

2009-11-16T22:49:00.001-08:00

Properly practiced creativity can lift your claims out of the swamp of sameness and make them accepted, believed, persuasive, urgent. William Bernbach.

Just so ya'll know, I am in the swamp of sameness. Up to my waist in it. Expository essays are the epitome of the swamp of sameness.

Music and Worship

2009-11-15T09:48:00.000-08:00

This is the only version of Paul Balouche/Brenton Brown's Glorious I could find on youtube. I love this song! It was really cool to be able to see both writers perform this song separately and see their different takes on the same song.

Last night, we also got to see Newworldson which was crazy awesome. I was really surprised by how much I enjoyed the performance. Here's one of the songs we got to hear:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lKGOnAQllP0&feature=channel

Concerts are so amazing, amazing, amazing.

Comment tag (If you read this, you've gotta comment) : Who performed at the last concert you went to?

Musicians Unite!

2009-11-14T07:00:00.000-08:00

This weekend, I am attending a musician's worship conference-ish thingy. It's amazing, but the days are long! So hang in there while I'm gone!

For me it's been an excellent time of worship, despite the fact that I can't sing because I don't have a voice.

Bye!

Me poooor neglected readers!

2009-11-11T21:31:00.000-08:00

I haven't ex'zackly been feeling on the top of things lately, so you must excuse my infrequent posting.

And now, for some amazing news...

Giles is now 13! Huzzah! Happy Birthday!!!

He is insanely awesome, to put it into verbal terms.

Good Morning!

2009-11-08T21:58:00.000-08:00

Last night I awoke from Deep and Relaxing Sleep. In, fact, I was rather pleased with myself at having got up some fifteen minutes or so before the old alarm sounded the cry. Now, self-satisfaction is hardly ever an acceptable emotion, but it is capital motivation when it comes to getting up early.

There's nothing like sitting around with a group of kids at some function or another and after listening to so-and-so say, "I got up at 6:00" and after hearing what's-his-name say, "I got up at 5:45," have the ability to announce, "Well! I've been up since 4:00!"

Of course, the triumph is a small reward for having to get up at four.

Anyway, on this particular instance, I got up, yawned, stretched and what-not. I jumped out of my pjs and into a pair of clean clothes. I walked to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and washed my face.

Why is this the least bit interesting? Read on.

While scrubbing away at the pearly whites, I glanced out the window at the dark horizon. It was a very literal dark horizon. Odd. It's usually lighter than this at 6:30. However, I brushed the thought away with recollections of the recent daylight savings.

Then I noticed that my entire family was already up. And it's not exactly common for my siblings to be up at 6:30, especially if it's dark.

Then, I noticed that the dinner dishes were still on the table.

Then, I noticed that my dear mother and father weren't back yet from the dinner they had gone to the night before.

Then, I noticed it was still yesterday. I don't think I'll ever take another nap. They are way too confusing.

Yeah, I think I'll step right in the shoes of Einstein.

Awesome video:

2009-11-06T09:41:00.000-08:00

I love this video. It is epic.

http://www.archive.org/details/PingPong_1

2009-11-05T08:54:00.000-08:00

“You can never get a cup of tea large enough or a book long enough to suit me.”~C.S. Lewis.

Argh! Yes! Brisingr was not long enough! Such a good series! However, I was a little disappointed with the lack of a climax. = ( I was waiting for the climax, waiting, waiting...

And then the book just ended. But I enjoyed it nonetheless.

Here's another excellent quote by C.S. Lewis:
“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.”
He is such a wise man.

So, per request of Libby, Peach, and Kei, I am posting these videos.

Do not feel obligated to watch it. You probably won't be amused.

A laugh for all you NaNoWriMo-ers:

2009-11-04T15:16:00.000-08:00

Here is a hilarious, indispensible quote from William Somerset Maugham:
(It made me burst out in giggles, [yes, giggles mind you] when I first read it)

There are three rules for writing a novel. Unfortunately, no one knows what they are.

Is that hysterically, tragically true? Boy, do I know it. I am in the process of creating a villain (not for NaNo, for school!) and I have decided to make him as interesting as the main character. Huh. Easier said than done.

Anyway, here's some inspiration for you writers:

I am convinced that most bloggers decrease posting by half in November, if they are doing NaNo. Not that I blame them or anything.

Here's to NaNo-ers! Best wishes to you and have fun writing. I hope your eye's don't dry out from staring at the computer screen!

Church Bus Trip!

2009-11-02T19:11:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was the delightful church bus trip. We sang the Sound of Music, danced the Chicken dance (and the bunny hop) discussed the meaning of life as it relates to toenails, listened to a beautiful sermon, worshipped, fellow-shipped, played soccer, and altogether had a jolly time.

My entire family succeeded (like we always do) in getting absolutely no photographs. We are quite adept at always forgetting the camera. However, there was an abundance of cameras on the bus. The count ended somewhere around 10. I took unwilling part in multiple camera wars. Here's some proof (blurry, because they're taken from a video camera) that I won a couple battles. All of these persons at some point or another participated. I missed the last five people. And I didn't get a picture of Problematic(See bloglist in sidebar). =P

I got some videos with my Flip, Audie. Sort of. They're rather... unprofessional. Of course, all my videos are, but these ones are particularly incoherent...

Peach dropped her candy on the floor and was forced to blow the germs off. Hence the picture.

Between the pages...

2009-10-31T22:04:00.000-07:00

I guess you could say I am stuck between the pages of Brisingr right now.

Stuck. Absorbed. Submerged. Immersed. Enthralled.

Whatever you want to say, I am enjoying it!

I am sure my fellow readers understand my state of being at the moment. Perhaps even enough to forgive this Very Short blog post.

Oh how difficult it is to try and finish Murder in the Cathedral (T.S. Eliot, for my literature discussion) when that epic book is calling! However, by sheer force of willpower, I shall accomplish it.

After I finish this chapter.

Yipppeeeeee!!!

2009-10-29T22:17:00.000-07:00

Huzzah! Hooray! Hurrah! Cheers!

To me. I finished my speech that was due a month (oh, wait, a year) ago and now I get to read Brisinger! You see, only a month after Brisinger came out, Mom bought it for Bracie and I. She looked us deeply in the eyes and said,

"You can read this only after you write a speech."

And I've been through a year and about 5 speech topics, but I finally found one that worked and I wrote it.

Now I am going to curl up on my bed, wearing fuzzy socks and sipping hot chocolate and listening to epic music...

After I cite about a million sources in MLA format. Bleh. Research essay classes are joy smushing. Anywho, if I have to cite resources, I might as well do it in fuzzy socks.

What are your reading habits? Nooks?

They just might take over the world.

2009-10-28T20:21:00.000-07:00

You know what are really, really, weird?

Monchichis.

They seriously creep me out. What are they exactly??? Some kind of strange mutant monkey with bows? Dahhhhhh!

Watch this and tell me what you think. Personally, I believe they are plotting to take over the planet, nevermind the cuddly exterior.

In which I come to a realization:

2009-10-26T21:51:00.000-07:00

Today, I sat down at the computer and realized...

That I have been blogging for over a year. It was rather startling.

And I realized that this is only my 250th post. Hmmm...

365
- 250

That doesn't come out quite right. Ah well.

Anyway, I have put up a poll.

Sublimate!

2009-10-26T21:14:00.001-07:00

My current vocabularily word is SUBLIMATE.

The official definition is:

sublimate (sub' le mait) [limen sublimate (sub' le mait)

To turn aside an instintual, perhaps primitive impulse in favor of a more socially or culturally acceptable activity.

However, I have redefined the word. Here's what it now means:

sublimate:

To suppress the desire to squeeze a brand new tube of toothpaste in the middle. To chose to not eat the first bite out of every apple. Deciding not to hurl the chair you just stubbed your toe on half-way across the room.

In a sense, sublimate means, "Don't anything Ramona Quimby would do."

Sublimating is choosing not to throw the Murder in the Cathedral commentary at the librarian's head because it's the commentary and not the actual play. It means to not bang the keyboard in frustration when the computer deletes the resource page that you've been collecting for the last hour.

Yup. It's been a great Monday.

Enough complaining. You know what I need to do? I need to go write a story about a character who attracts misfortune. Right now. Then, if I can make enough horrid things happen to them, then I will feel better.

After all, didn't Jonathon Swift say, "Nothing is bigger or smaller except by comparision."? So by comparison with this story I am going to write, my little troubles will melt away like, um, er, uh, butter?

Here's a song for you all:

One last Marian post:

2009-10-25T21:01:00.000-07:00

Two poems too exhilarating to not share:

And what eye hath e'er seen such a sweet Maiden Queen,
As Marian, the pride of the forester's green?
A sweet garden-flower, she blooms in the bower,
Where alone to this hour the wild rose has been:
We hail her in duty the queen of all beauty:
We will live, we will die, by our sweet Maiden queen. Thomas Love Peacock

"A bonny fine maid of noble degree,
Maid Marian called by name,
Did live in the north, of excellent worth,
For she was a gallant dame.

For favour, and face, and beauty most rare,
Queen Helen she did excel;
For Marian then was praised of all men
That did in the country dwell." ~I actually don't know who wrote that. Sorry...

More Marian Photos

2009-10-25T09:46:00.000-07:00

The following are just Marian-ish photos. Thank you Kei!

Modern Marian #2

2009-10-25T09:40:00.000-07:00

Last night, my dear dad suggested to me that I was perhaps I was going a little overboard on the Marian thing.

It made me think...

...Nah.

Look at those gorgeous leaves! Beautiful!

The lovely Bracie, my dear sister:

Modern Marian#1:

2009-10-25T09:02:00.000-07:00

Bring back capes! (made by the wonderful Rowena @RandomJotdowns) Here are some of my pictures for a Modern Marian clothing (does anyone else dislike the word fashion?)

Alright, so perhaps the outfit without the cape will do just fine.

The below picture is of moi gracefully jumping off the wrong side of my horse. Way to go me. Chess doesn't mind, the angel.

This picture is very blurry, but it caught my fancy.

And of course I had to have the boot/knife picture. It is essential to Marian. =D

If feels very odd to simply post pictures of just me, so here's a picture of Lib (excuse me, I mean Rowena,) Peach, and Bracie. The ever marvelous Kei is taking the photo.

Photo credit: All of the blurry ones were taken by Bracie (don't worry, she'll readily admit to that. It's all our camera's fault.) and all of the nice ones were taken by Kei.

Worthy Aspirations?

2009-10-24T21:15:00.000-07:00

I may not measure up to the awesomeness of Maid Marian, but at least I can be Lady Cluck.

Lucy Griffiths- my opinion.

2009-10-24T18:47:00.000-07:00

Just so everyone knows, I have only seen the first season of BBC Robin Hood. The beautiful Lucy Griffiths as Maid Marian- she's brighter, snazzier, smarter, faster, and bigger than Robin Hood! She is gorgeous and amazing and utterly cool, from her incredible fashion sense, to her longbow skills, to her amazing strategic abilities, from her night-watchman mask, to her commanding comportment that inspires all around her.

Can Robin do it? She can do it better! She did it first! After all everybody knows it was really Marian's idea.

No matter what anyone does, she wants to steal the show and do it her way. Not only that, but she must tear everyone down in the process. Constantly, she berates and criticizes Robin, never trying to help.

And the ironic thing? Somehow, despite how annoying she is, Robin manages to continue caring for her. Despite her resemblance to a nagging fishwife, she manages to steal his heart. Is anyone else sensing an inconsistency? Is that a realistic relationship?

How is everyone able to see past her faults? I don't understand. To me, it seems as though everyone is so impressed by the external Marian that they cannot look at her internal character.

Not only is she flawed, she is annoying! Being flawed is a universally shared characteristic, but it isn't necessary to be annoying.
Ephesians 4:28 makes this important applicable command:

Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.

I did not hear Lucy's Marian say anything that built anyone up in the entire first season. Nothing about her character is sweet or beautiful.

Robin Hood is not meant to be uxorious!

Don't get me wrong: I would love to have her archery skills or her amazing clothes or whatever, but her pride and sharp tongue leave much to be desired.

I would love to hear that she curbs her critical spirit. I would love to hear about her encouraging someone. Please comment and tell me she reforms!

PS: And my other complaints about BBC Robin Hood:

The Merry Men were not Merry. Nor were they charming. Or witty. =P

Maid Marian's Character:

2009-10-24T08:41:00.000-07:00

From quotes! First of all, I had to put down this classic one from Tennyson... because, well, it's classic.

“And these will strike for England,
And man and maid be free
To foil and spoil the tyrant
Beneath the greenwood tree.” Tennyson, The Foresters

And I absolutely love Maid Marian as portayed by T.H. White! From The Sword in the Stone:

“Robin lay happily with his head in Marian’s lap. She sat between the roots
of the lime tree, clad in a one piece smock of green girded with a quiver of
arrows and her feet and arms were bare. She had let down the brown shining
waterfall, which was usually kept braided for convience in hunting and cookery,
and with the falling waves of this she framed his head. She was singing a duet
with him softly, and tickling the end of his nose with the fine hairs…
[the two boys, Kay and Art go with the Merry Men on an adventure]
The boys had felt disgruntled at first, at being put in a woman’s band. They would have preferred to have gone with Robin, and thought that being put under Marian was like being trusted to a governess. They soon found their mistake.
It was not easy to be a companion of hers. In the first place, it was impossible to keep up with her unless she waited for them-she could move on all fours or even wriggle
like a snake almost as quickly as they could walk- and in the second place she
was an accomplished soldier which they were not. She was a true Weyve-except for
her long hair, which most of the female outlaws of those days used to clip. One
of the bits of advice which she gave them before talking had to be stopped was
this: Aim high when you shoot in battle, rather than low. A low arrow strikes
the ground, a high one may kill in the second rank.
“If I am made to get married,” thought the Wart, who had doubts on the subject, “I will marry a girl like this: a kind of golden vixen.”
As a matter of fact, though the boys did not know it, Marian could hoot like an owl by blowing into her fists, or whistle a shrill blast between tongue and teeth with the fingers in the corner of the mouth; could bring all the birds to her by imitating their calls and understand much of their small language; could hit the popinjay twice for every three times of Robin’s; and could turn cartwheels. But none of these accomplishments were necessary at the moment.”

by his side:

2009-10-23T15:06:00.000-07:00

The long-awaited weekend has arrived! And here, to kick off a series of posts concerning Maid Marian!

To me, the great, distinguishing aspect of the story of Maid Marian is that she was always by his side. Not a heroine who limps and flutters in the background, nor one who must dominate the scene and depend only on herself, but a supporting, strong, remarkable, amazing woman with utmost devotion to her beloved.

Here is an amazing quote from Thomas Love Peacock's Maid Marian:

“May I never again have roof but the blue sky, nor canopy but the
green leaves, nor barrier but the forest-bounds; with the foresters to my
train, Little John to my page, Friar Tuck to my ghostly adviser, and Robin
Hood to my liege lord. I am no longer lady Matilda Fitzwater, of Arlingford
Castle, but plain Maid Marian, of Sherwood Forest."

"Long live Maid Marian!" re-echoed the foresters…

I let my mind wander...

2009-10-22T13:23:00.000-07:00

And it never came back.
I think I's is gettin' progressively dumber. The other day, I spent a half and hour just throwing small pine cones at the road from 100 feet in the air. (I was up in a tree)

Just today, I put my shoe on th wrong foot.

When I put a jar of OLIVES! back in the fridge, I absentmindedly set the container on top of the milk carton. ??? They, of course didn't like being set atop the shaky milk carton and hurtled toward the ground.

Where is my brain?
On the way to my speech club, there is a huge billboard with a picture of a girl holding a green laptop. As we drove by it in the pouring rain, I thought to myself:
"She ought to come out of the rain, or she'll ruin her laptop. Precipitation isn't good for electronics." Is that incredibly stupid or what? For goodness sakes, it was a big, gigantic BILLBOARD!

But at the same time, I think my reflexes are getting better. While throwing pinecones, I managed to get one in the back of a truck and one on the back seat of a convertable. From a hundred feet up in a tree! It was a moment of awesomeness that I didn't even know I had in me.
Now, when I fall out of trees, I usually land on my feet!
And after I put the wrong shoe on, I managed to tie a bow in under twenty seconds with only one hand! I'm proud. Okay, so maybe I'm not that proud.

Seriously, I CAUGHT the olives! There was no big mess of shattered glass for me to clean. Like lightenting, my lithe wrist shot out and snatch the olives from their impending doom.
(Can wrists be lithe?)
Of course, the billboard thing was just dumb. No getting around it.
So I don't feel too bad about growing progressively dumber if I can manage to have awesome reflexes.

Wait, what does "progressively" mean again?

For my fellow authors...

2009-10-21T16:01:00.000-07:00

I rarely meet any fellow aspiring authors who aren't interested in the work of other authors who have much in common with them. Exploring various blogs, I have come across many persons who desire to write, and I thought I would post this link:

http://oneyearnovel.com/showcase.html

Click on the link and it will lead you to a page that has a bunch on novels written by teenagers. I read the winning entry and I quite enjoyed it. Plus, seeing the completed works of other teens was encouraging.

Music and an article worth reading.

2009-10-21T14:53:00.000-07:00

I am a creature of habit. Every morning at precisely 6:02, I get up, put on my fuzzy slippers and plaid bathrobe and I sit down to a cup of coffee with 3.7 teaspoons of sugar, one egg done over-hard, and the Wall Street Journal. Rain or Shine.

Okay, so maybe not. I am not a creature of habit, nor would I willingly get up at 6:02. I don't measure my sugar and I don't drink coffee every morning.

But, every couple days or so, I do read the paper. And a couple days ago, they published an interesting article on the power of music. You should read it! The article is worth the time it takes to peruse it. Not necessarily because I agree with everything the author says, but because it is inductive to thought. And thinking is always a good thing.

To quote Beauty and the Beast:

Gaston: "I'm afraid I've been thinking,"
Lefoo: "A dangerous pastime!"
Gaston: "I know."

It intrigued me, and I especially liked this quote that the author, um, quoted.

"Only a world without love strikes me as instantly and decisively more terrible than one without music." ~Sir Kingsley Amis

In the article, they presented two different opinions in a paragraph that starts with the words, "Enter the men in white coats" The first opinion hypothesizes that the human brain is wired to find meaning in music, whereas the second maintains that music is merely "auditory cheesecake."

I noticed that the first opinion was from a neuroscientist, while the second was just from a psycologist. Thoughts on that anyone?

Anyway, I absolutely loved this quote(it made me laugh):

Donald Francis Tovey "I have (this sounds like fantastic nonsense, but it isn't) frequently caught myself positively solving some problem (of a more or less philosophical nature) in, say, the key of A minor, where I had utterly failed to reason it out in words." Who cannot empathesize with that?

2009-10-20T12:47:00.000-07:00

Down with the tyrnanny of short posts! I now resolve to write longer ones! Does not the expression run, the more the merrier?

So, you, my dear readers, are going to be bombarded by this long, rambly post.

Yesterday, I was babysitting my little brother Milo while Ava and Mom were at soccer practice. Milo was quiet and I used the opportunity to catch up on some school work. However, after twenty minutes, I decide that quiet was just a little too quiet for my normally high volume little bro. Whenever he is silent, he is usually working some mischief. So, I walked around the house until I found him in his bedroom.

My brother was perusing a Cheaper than Dirt magazine. The pages were clutched tightly in his hands, and his brow was scrunched in concentration. He viewed the pages filled with weapons and ammunition with delight. Accckkk! He is two!

Now where could he possibly be getting those violent tendencies from? Say I as I quickly hide my seven airsoft guns where no one can see them.

Erg. I forgot my password for playlist.com. So now, I can't really edit my playlist. And I forgot which email I used for the playlist account. That's just another example of my brilliance and stunning intelligence.

Ya know somthin' awesome? As I, scholastic and devoted, sat rigorously studying biology, I just happened to glance out the window-

Okay, maybe that's not exactly what happened. While I was supposed to be wading my way through random information about organelles and ribosomes, I stared out the window for several minutes, pondering the plot line of my novel.

Movement caught my eye, drawing it to the tawny form of a lithe and graceful bobcat.

How beautiful! I thought immediately, and then, Ack!!! The chickens!

With all the grace of a buffaloe on ice skates, I dashed outside to chase it away, only to see its tail disappear behind our yew bush. Whew! You see, our chickens are free range, and I did not want one to fall prey to a predator, however beautiful. But I love bobcats.

Anyway, here is a picture of me displaying all the grace of a buffaloe on ice skates. Or perhaps the co-ordination of a gnat in a gorilla suit. hmmm... let's see how many terrible analogies I can come up with...

Or perhaps not. Isn't this a jolly picture? Kei from Photos By Keilah took it. Just for my benefit, I'll have you know that I was somersaulting down the hill, not falling down it. =D

Birthday Loot!

2009-10-18T19:52:00.000-07:00

See! The present of my dreams, to have and to hold... and to EAT! I love olives. All kinds.

Contest Results!

2009-10-16T16:56:00.000-07:00

Hurrah for Problematic!!!

You have officially won the WitNN contest! Expect an award shortly. I love your picture!!!

Second place to B and third to Peach.

happybirthdaytome!!!

2009-10-13T21:08:00.000-07:00

Yup. That picture was taken when after I turned fifteen. You can tell from my expression how my wisdom has deepened. Or perhaps it has risen to new heights. Whatever.

I was suprised.

Keep Voting! Scroll down for pictures.

Rock on Duct Tape!!!

2009-10-11T21:21:00.000-07:00

Lib and Jare, my friends over at Random Jotdowns, are having a Duct Tape week. As I can't really email the video to Lib so she can post this on her awesome blog, I am posting it here. I am not exactly sure what number today is, but at church we made this awesome movie:

We took it in the game closet after service. After we emerged, giggling, we discovered that a little girl had locked herself in the elevator! The same elevator with which we made this video. Make sure you watch the end! Peach, always a dear, filmed it for us. Rock on duct tape!!!

I think Lib and Jare should have a duct tape day each week.

P.S. If you haven't voted yet, VOTE! Scroll down a couple of posts to see the pictures.

Huzzah!

2009-10-10T21:18:00.000-07:00

My birthday is in two days! I am so excited that I think I will go outside to turn cartwheels and I will teach the punching bag a lesson! I am exuberant!

Update: I got a bruise failing to do a flip and I split the skin on my knuckle. It was sort of anti climatic.

Anyway... vote! Scroll down to see the contest photos.

A deep and meaningful quote.

2009-10-08T08:41:00.000-07:00

"By necessity, by proclivity, and by delight, we all quote."
Ralph Waldo Emerson

Drumroll please... and here they are!!!

2009-10-05T20:24:00.000-07:00

All the photos are in! Now it is the time to vote. In random order...

#1. Una:

#2. Corissa:
#3. Problemactic

#4. Libby

#5. Sasha

#6. Lady O

#7. Peach

#8. K

#9. H's

#10. B's

#11.Ash

#12. Dad

#13. Bracie

#14. The General

In the left sidebar is a poll, so vote on your favorite! The poll will be up for nine days.

My Nemesis:

2009-10-05T15:26:00.000-07:00

Is a device, crafted of metal and adorned with supposedly heat resistant plastic. However, it is not its looks that cast such terror into my heart-it is its dark and evil purpose.

For, when the authorities decide to inflict torture, they attach it to the wall, sending electricity through the long, thin wicked cord. The shocking currents heat up the device: first the cyndrilical brand, and then the pinching, cruel handle-thingamabob.

Then, advancing grimly, the operator, usually an executioner or some such person, snaps the handle thingamabob open and closed several times. The very sound chills the marrow of my bones. Yanking a lock of hair practically off my head, they feed it into the machine. Slowly, ever slowly, so as to prolong the torment, they twist the hair closer and closer to my scalp, until I am sure it will burn me.
Smoke rises from the lock of my hair, though they tell me it is steam, before the evil instrument is released. My hair, normally resplendent in frizzy-ness has been manipulated into a perfect curl.
But I resolve revenge! Beware all Curling Irons! I will come back someday and destroy you.

Hear ye!

2009-10-05T15:18:00.000-07:00

Allow me to direct your rapt attention to the section of digital screen particular to my blog known as a sidebar? Specifically, the right sidebar. There, see? Under the top attractive picture of myself, looking like an ethereal sprite.

There exists a poll.

Friends, Romans, Countrymen! Lend me your vote! All that is within you, standing for justice and all that is good! Vote!

Winner?

2009-10-05T15:01:00.000-07:00

Remember the last baby shower I went to?

On Saturday, I attended another. And I won a game guessing how many diapers the lady whom the shower was honoring had changed in all her years as a mother. My guess was 17,o13 or something like that because seventeen happens to be a number of awesomeness. Her approximate answer was 14, 125.
Another of the games, (Mrs. E, you are a genuis) involved mushing a banana and feeding it to your team mate with one hand. I had a lot of fun watching Bracie gag on mushy fruit. HEHE!

Kei! I think you should post pictures of that.

At every baby shower I've ever been to, I have won a shower game. I'd be proud of that, but I am not quite certain it is something to be proud of.

Love this song!

2009-10-02T11:31:00.000-07:00

Humor me. I love this song.

Happy Birthday Daddy!

2009-09-30T07:35:00.000-07:00

Bit and Bridle

2009-09-28T14:31:00.000-07:00

I flopped on my bed, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn my literature assignment, in hand. After reading into several lines, I became aware of a cold sensation around my ankle. Frigid metal dug into my foot until I was distracted enough to investigate. I reached down and pulled up a bit! An loose ring, jointed, snaffle. In my bed. Weird. The extreme coldness of it has officially reminded me to always warm the bit before I put it in my horse's mouth.

It is cold, but it doesn't smell at all like Autumn, so I feel cheated.

Have any of you ever started a first person-narrated novel without knowing what the main character's name is? That's sort of the dilemma I am in right now. Or write now.

Back to Huckleberry Finn...
"But it warn't no time to be sentimentering."

Or here's why I titled that post, Fog:
"For nothing don't look natural or sound natural in a fog." I think my brain is still foggy. I'd better go study my Euclid or some Dialogues of Plato to clear it.

All Who are Thirsty

2009-09-27T09:22:00.000-07:00

1Th 5:23 Now may the God of peace himself sanctify you completely, and may your whole spirit and soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Rev 22:17 The Spirit and the Bride say, "Come." And let the one who hears say, "Come." And let the one who is thirsty come; let the one who desires take the water of life without price.

Rev 22:20 He who testifies to these things says, "Surely I am coming soon." Amen. Come, Lord Jesus! The grace of the Lord Jesus be with all. Amen.

Fog.

2009-09-26T20:22:00.001-07:00

Today I have made a very mundane discovery. The motions which are involved in

a) washing tall windows

and

b)painting hallways

are very, very similar. I feel as though I have not been using my brain at all today.

This post doesn't have anything to do with the Cavalia picture. I just thought that a picture of some amazing, gorgeous horsemanship would be a lot more interesting than a picture of a paintbrush. Has anyone else seen Cavalia?

I rather don't like eating bananas. I have nothing against their existence, so I can't really say I don't like them, but I don't like eating them.
My story has been on my mind quite a bit lately. Until, of course, it was driven out by Switchfoot Nothing is Sound and the monotony of painting. So far, the name Giselle appeals to me for a girl. Or Sylvia. How about Sylwyn?
I feel the need for a poll. Hmmm...

Fair...

2009-09-25T21:19:00.000-07:00

We went to the fair today. The huge, greasy, humongous, marvelously fun fair. I ate cotton candy, rode as many roller coasters as possible and a 20 story ride, and listened to live performers. Oh! I got to see my friend compete in dog 4H. And the draft horse driving show, which was amazing!

Everyone gained a sunburn. Giles gained a stuffed-animal snow tiger prize that is at least three times the size of him. I gained the satisfaction of knowing that I thoroughly wore myself out having a jolly time. Oh, and I gained a new found appreciation for the fact that I have a full set of teeth.

Now, what I really want is a bath. Or two.

Tree Climbing, Postal Workers, and Yew.

2009-09-24T15:51:00.000-07:00

Today, I took a look at a tree at the top of our driveway and resolved to climb it. I had never been able to, owing to the fact that there are no branches for ten feet up the trunk.
Yet, grappling two limbs that sloped down, I managed to swing my way up to the first layer of branches.
Focusing, straining one arm, I could just reach my fingers up to the next set of limbs. Just then, the white Mail truck came roaring up the driveway. Concentration broken, I took one glance at the Postal Worker, before dropping and landing, er, catlike on the ground with, um, perfect balance.
The truck rolled to a stop in front of me. An imperious Postal Lady stared at me, her face containing the ideal mixture of dignity, shock, and a dash of "For Shame!"

"Do you live here?" She asked suspiciously.
"Why, yes!" I recovered my poise.
"Then I have a package for the residents of this house."
She handed a brown box (containing school curricula for my little siblings) and backed professionally down the drive. As she reached the end, I thought she laughed, but I can't be too certain.

I dumped the box inside, successfully made it to the top of the tree, and then picked some yew berries.
I've only eaten one once because I've heard it said that they are poisonous. But, hey! I am still living.

I couldn't resist squashing a few, considering that they have no other purpose.

They are suprisingly slimy.

Names??? Ideas anyone?

2009-09-23T21:34:00.000-07:00

So, our family's official first day of school was last Monday. It will be interesting to see if I can quite keep up with my set schedule...

But enough boring stuff. Let us venture into the land discussion of the Written Word, specifically stuff that we write ourselves.

For school, I am writing a story. I am afraid that I have boring all my friends to tears with descriptions of how excited I am to write fiction, that actually counts as school work.
Anyhow... I have a Plot. I have Characters. I have a Setting. I do not have names.

I have two characters, a girl and a guy, that need names. The setting is this day, age, planet, world, and dimension. Check that: I need three. I need a good name for a villain, which ought to be fun.

Ideas anyone? Suggestions?

Everybody clap for Peach!

2009-09-21T15:29:00.000-07:00

She sent me one of her entries!!! Huzzah! However, the contest does not end yet because she says that there are more to come.

An Executive Decision!

2009-09-18T21:24:00.001-07:00

Because I am, after all, this blog's only executive.

I am sick of having a Weird is the New Normal contest running with no end in sight. However, the end date has been spotted, chased down and affixed to my sidebar as a trophy.

Peach! It is all on your shoulders now. The contest officially ends when you choose to send moi those photos, (which I am sure are awesome). If you need me to, I can add the words. You have been warned. This is a guilt trip.

Wait, let me try this approach. Peeeaaaaach? Would you... if it isn't, you know, too much of a strain, maybe you could, sorta, send those reeeeaaaally cool picturesyou took for my contest???Pleeeeeaaaaaaase?

For the rest of you, this means:

A. Peach will immediately send the photos and the contest will end and I'll re-post all the entries.

B. (Much more likely, [no offense, Peach]) Peach will keep feeling guilty about this but will also keep forgetting to send them. =D And you all will have lots of time to make your own photo and send it in. For more details about it, check my sidebar.

Can you hear me?

2009-09-17T21:34:00.000-07:00

Hi! I really would like to say more, but I sort of lost my *wheeze* voice. It comes and goes really randomly. At least, that's how it has been these past days.

Tonight, we tried to practice worship, and I couldn't sing a note. Maybe if I drink a cup of tea it will come back.

Slurp. Slurp.

Ahhh! That's better. I really and truly think my voice is back for good. Oh Fiddle. Nevermind.

Anyway, Bracie and I are listening, as we paint our front entryway, to a book on tape, Stormbreaker, the first Alex Rider book. So far, I am really enjoying it. In two days, four of my library books have been... consumed.

You know what? I am going to make some more tea.

Gold!

2009-09-16T13:51:00.000-07:00

I feel wealthy, like a miser counting his gold.
I am sitting down at a marvelous feast: a banquet with food of all kinds.

Why?

Because last night we went to the Library. I think I checked out 13 books. And Bracie checked out ten or something like that. Already, I am finished with two. I have a voracious appetite for books.

You know what is one of the most tantalizing experiences ever? Driving home from the library in the dark. Piled aroung you are tomes just begging to be read, but... you can't.

Of course, then you go home and read and read and read and read until your mother tells you to come up for air and finish that homework assignment. Speaking of which...

Sphinx Schooling

2009-09-14T08:38:00.000-07:00

Yup. It happens to be that time of year where people start school, so I thought I would share some pictures of us doing school last year:

That's right. Our school consists of making Sphinx faces for Egyptology.
Giles:

Bracie:

If you study ancient civilizations, eventually you come across the tale of the Sphinx.

I think Mom deserves an A.

The Celtic Zucchinis: The Latest to Today's Show

2009-09-13T07:56:00.000-07:00

Is it just me, or is this our best one yet?

I have Returned.

2009-09-12T14:53:00.000-07:00

Hey. I have returned. I am not "back" because I have looked through all o my posts in which I return to blogging, and they all say "I'm back!!!" with lots o exclamation marks.

However, it is absolutely necessary to maintain a grave demeanor when saying, "I have returned." Not the barest hint of humor can shine through. AT ALL!

When saying "I'm back," you can accompany it with a big cheesy grin and lot o delightful anecdotes about wherever it is you where.

The " " key [you know, the one between E and G] is broken on this keyboard, so I am adopting a Scottish dialect. Sort oph. It is very diphicult to hit it hard enough to type.

On our trip to the beach, we phorgot our camera, as always. So you'll just have to imagine beautiphul pictures oph my phamily looking soulphul on the beach. And we saw a water dinosaur, the loch ness monster, and a selkie, but we just didn't have a camera to take a picture oph it.

I did get several clips oph me trying to do walk-overs and turning cartwheels, but they just aren't... suspensephul or anything. We had a jolly time!!!

And thus, we hath returned.

Stuff.

2009-09-09T11:18:00.000-07:00

Will tagged me for the thirty things about me tag. While you are reading this, I am making sandcastles and splashing in the ocean. Which is cold. And salty. And I probably have sand in my hand, and bruises all over from falling off my skim board.

1. My horse's bit is on top of my dresser at the moment. How's that for random?

2. I currently have 5 stories started. Because starting them is so easy!

3. Currently, I am attempting to wean myself of the habit of eating the stickers on my apples, which I am accomplishing by eating our own apples.

4. My chicken's name is Nefertiti. We used to have ten, whose names were

Shifrah

Puah

Ribbon

Ruth

Boaz

Hapshetsut

Cleopatra

Red,

And Red.

5. Ferns are my favorite plants

6. I epic-fail at knitting.

7. At the moment, I am reading Sophie's World, which is about a fourteen year old girl with one month before she turns 15. I thought it was an fitting time to read it.

8. I really cannot stand pb&js. Blech.

9. In my book, eating with chopsticks is a delight.

10. Sargeant and Kipper, my two big dogs, have a room bigger than mine. They live in a homestead cabin.

11. I can't remember the last time I brushed my hair. That's kinda sad.

12. In my lifetime, I have ruined about 17 watches.

13. My cat tore the Control "Ctrl" key off of this laptop.

14. I have almost entirely filled my composition notebook!

15. I don't believe in matching socks.

16. I always steal my dad's socks because I never have any that match.

17. My dad's socks don't fit me.

18. My dad is 6'6".

19. The space between my bunk bed and the wall of my bedroom has been called the Depths of Doom for about seven years.

20. I am very good at losing pocket knives. So if you live in WA, and you find a knife lying around, it's probably mine.

21. I love mountain huckleberries.

22. Once, in a fit of extravagence, I paid $3 for a button. *Shakes Head*

23. I have supposedly met the man who invented the thinamajig that connects the pencil to the eraser. His name was Yimmy, and I have no idea if he was telling the truth. =D

24. Last summer, I got to see a Lipizzaner act.

25. Never, ever, ever, will I ever try to make a jelly roll again.

26. I love the rain.

27. If I could go anywhere right now, I'd go to the Library

28. When the Sky is like Lace is one of my favorite picture books.

29. I have discovered that I am much better at typing on a laptop than a regular computer, which is rather sad because regular keyboards have such a nice clacking sound.

30. When I was younger, I set out to look for an arrowhead one day. However, I never found one. Not to be daunted, I found a piece of sedentary rock and used a file to make myself one. I still have it.

I tag... umm... who hasn't done this tag? I tag

Phil Wordy,

Heidi

Ashley

Attempts at Opera... sort of.

2009-09-09T10:52:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, in video-making (we are too un-serious to call it filming) the mess-ups are a million times more humorous than the actual movie. These attempts were first tries on making a video about elevators. The idea was to for us to be trapped. It wasn't the brightest idea.

Eventually, we abandoned these clips, as they were...um... maybe a little too embarrassing, and a little too...unintelligent. Why I am posting these, I wonder? Maybe I need to rethink this. By the way, Lib, please don't kill me for this. (She's the middle girl in the below clip)

Somehow, watching these, all my ambitions to be in The Marriage of Figaro crumble and fade. I don't think I was born to be an opera star.

Three Character Tag

2009-09-07T09:36:00.000-07:00

I am not adhering to my usual principle of doing all my tags together. =D

Bethany tagged me with the three character tag. But how am I ever to decide which three of my favorite characters to write about? I think that nearly all of mine are from George MacDonald, so I'll start with one of his characters.

I. Curdie, Peter's son. [Sorry about the picture. I can't find a satisfactory one.]

1. He, by obeying the "Lady" and thrusting his hands into her fire, he "will henceforth be able to know at once the hand of a man who is growing to be a beast." Basically, he can know the character of any man or woman.

2. He can sing and invent marvelous rhymes on the spot.

3. He was formally a miner.

II. Polly, of An Old-Fashioned Girl, by Louisa May Alcott.

1. Her real name is Mary. [Isn't Polly an odd nickname for Mary?]

2. She coasts (sleds) splendidly, and is a sport for all kinds of fun.

3. Humilty is very present in her.

III. Horatio Hornblower (of the movies, not the books. I couldn't reccomend any of the books other than the first two)

Peach, I can see you rolling your eyes! =D

1. At the beginning of his naval career, he suffers from seasickness.

2. He joins the navy at seventeen.

3. His strong sense of duty often gets him into trouble.

Amazing Grace

2009-09-06T08:47:00.000-07:00

Fish and Dream Jobs.

2009-09-05T09:14:00.000-07:00

Isn't it glorious? O! The thrill that fills my heart as the shimmering fish soars heavenward! And then, how it comes gently to earth, landing securely in the hand of a fish-monger!

That is where I am going to work as soon as I am eighteen. Oh Yeah. I just can't wait to put on a pair of lovely orange overalls and conquer the world one fish at a time! But seriously, folks, wouldn't it be grand to work there? Perhaps for just a summer. I'd love it. Also, I want to be a summer forest fire-fighter, like my dad. What's your dream summer job?

I'll be gone for SIX days! Daddy is taking our family to the beach on Monday. I shall attempt to schedule some posts, but the last time I tried that, I messed it all up. Yup, I've got skills.

The Dr. #3

2009-09-03T17:39:00.000-07:00

Click here to read the first two.

A strange look appeared on the stranger’s face, and without a word, he began backing towards the window.
The doctor figured that if this fellow was inclined to silence, so much the better for him. Reflecting on the fellow’s plight, Dr. Batwinkler began to devise a scheme to help him, but one that would also lift out of his predicament.
“Well now, my good man, ah, you’ve come a long ways up and I don’t doubt it was healthy exercise, and seeing as we’re coming on noon, well –how about a fried egg?”
“An egg?” he asked bleakly. “Yes. I shall accept it as a last comfort before my impending doom.” Here the fellow buried his head in his arms in a posture highly resembling the Dr. Fritz’s stance several pages ago.
“Come! This way to my eating area.” Dr. Fritz beckoned cheerily, determined to rouse the spirits of his guest. Leading, he navigated out of the office, into the laboratory, past mountains of expensive-looking equipment, and through piles of shabby looking-artifacts. Pausing to switch on a Bunsen burner, he came to a stop in front of an apple crate rested on a stack of musty books. Inside was a large, blue hen.
Uttering the civility of “If I may, Henrietta,” the doctor reached into the nest and pulled out three eggs: two cobalt and one silver. With his left hand, he weighed the silver egg and promptly chucked it in a remote corner of the room.
“My Henrietta has funded many scientific discoveries!” he said proudly, “But those aren’t edible, you know!” Deftly, he buttered a frying pan and heated it, and when the butter began to pop, he cracked the eggs and tossed them in.
All through this, the stranger had remained mute, as passing from the sparse, professional office into the laboratory, a chaotic mixture of science and lore antiques, had astounded him. The large, rectangular room was broken into three-sided nooks by tall, chrome, book and display shelves. They were like houses on a street: all were connected by a long hallway. Everything was neatly labled. Reminiscent of Arabian nights, hundreds of oil lamps lit the room brightly. Another was entirely stocked with greatly varying jewelry catalogued “according to property”. A little ways in the hallway was a cardboard box, marked “No apparent ability” full of plain gold rings. Machinery, lavishly coated in buttons, was dotted here and there like islands. Labeled, “Trash,” an especially large nook was almost entirely filled with broomsticks and curiously pointed hats. *Like a library of the ancient world, parchments, tightly curled, were stored in glass jars. Cracked, worn, and dusty, books occupied every other available space.
As Fritz handed over the expertly-fried, blue egg, the guest noticed that something, on a shelf of musical instruments, was moving. It appeared to be twisted rope. Answering to the doctor’s whistle, the rope picked up speed and dropped neatly to the ground at their feet.
“This, my new friend, is Zither, of whom I mentioned previously. And speaking of introductions, my name is Batwinkler, Dr. Fritz Batwinkler.”
“P-p-p-pleased to meet you. I am Savvel Vastion.” Savvel’s voice and vocabulary lost its magnificent, despairing tone as he became more awed and less focused on awing. “What is this stuff?”
“It is my scientific collection. Which reminds me, I have something in the way of a… business proposition.

* Just so you know, I am not really into witches. Please note that that nook was labled, "Trash."

Critiques? Pointers? Anyone?

Ophelia, the Ninja Nanny.

2009-09-02T14:05:00.000-07:00

Previously, I've been a car jacking hoodlum. Yesterday, according to my mother, I was a Ninja Nanny, a Colombian terrorist, or a French Guerilla Warrior. Yeah. Great. Knee socks, a beret, and a black sweatshirt. Put together, are they really that threatening? I though they were just stupid looking.

I learned a long time ago to stop pretending I had any semblance of fashion sense.

Earrings and Bush Survival, again.

2009-09-02T13:59:00.000-07:00

Remember this post? Well, Libby, who is creative and resourceul and currently sunburned, made me this pair a while back.

They are actual matches. And they are intensely awesome.

Living with a whimsical, artistic sister

2009-09-01T09:42:00.000-07:00

"Will you go get me a salmonberry leaf?" Bracie asked me one day. I could see she was in the middle of a drawing, so I walked outside, hunted around, plucked a leaf, and brought it to her.

Bracie is the artistic genius of the family. She is an awesome artist. But the "real" person behind her success is moi. Oh yeah. That's right, you heard me. (Just Kidding =D)

A couple of days ago, I walked into the bedroom I share with Bracie. I was immediately confronted by my dear sister: sketchbook in hand, pencil poised.

"Hold still a second. Stand up straighter, will you?" she asked, "Raise your eyebrows blissfully! Tilt your head like-no, no, look that way! Up, higher, higher. Turn towards me a little more. Give me a big smile... WAIT! Clench your jaw! I need to see a pristine, clear jawline. No, keep smiling!"

Contorted into this strange position, I replied, "How in the world do you expect me to smile and clench my jaw at the same time? And what are you drawing?"
"A mermaid!" she responded, " Now stretch your arm out gracefully..."

Yup. That puts me in mind of another mermaid-drawing incident. Lying on my stomach, I sat reading on my bed. Bracie marched into the room, brandishing a scalloped-edged pillow case.
"Ophy, will you do something for me?" Before I could say anything, I found myself with the pillow case on my head. After adjusting it so it looked artistic, Bracie picked up her sketchbook and began to work. "Now, rest your chin in your hands. Straighten your neck..." The drawing was of another mermaid, resting with her tail draped over her head. A scalloped-edged pillow case was as close as she could find for a tail-model.

She doesn't really draw me all the time: I am basically one of these:

Once, Bracie was involved in a sketch of Snow White.We were waiting in the car for Mom to go grocery shopping.
"Will you lean back your seat all the way?"
I obliged.
"Face me. Close your eyes."
Several minutes elapsed.
"Could you please strain the muscles in your neck? And make the veins stick out?"
I was a little surprised. I mean, it's not like the sleeping Snow White was weight-lifting or anything. However, one thing I have gotten to know is that even if an action sounds weird, Bracie makes it look awesome on paper.

Maid Marion

2009-08-31T14:09:00.000-07:00

I know many others have already posted about this, but I thought it was way too awesome to leave alone.

http://amandabethonline.blogspot.com/2009/08/maid-marians-wardrobe-medieval-fashion.html

War wounds

2009-08-31T09:02:00.000-07:00

I love airsoft.

I love airsoft machine guns.

I love 400+ fps airsoft machine guns.

I love 400+fps airsoft machine guns at point blank (5ft) range.

I love airsoft.

I am actually not being sarcastic. Or facetious. I really do love airsoft. It is completely worth it. =D

Happy 16th Audrey!

Battle

2009-08-29T08:59:00.000-07:00

Quick question: Does anyone know how The Reluctant Dragon button started???
The other day, I was thinking about making one, and Bracie asked, "I thought you already did!"

And I saw that there was one.

I am very flattered. =D

Anyhow, I am going off to battle! Well, that is, an Airsoft battle.

You gotta love it.

The Highlands, Sylwyness, and Photos Galore

2009-08-28T11:10:00.000-07:00

How do you really spell Sylwyness? Is it really a word? In the (2) lessons of latin I studied, we had to repeat, "Sylwa, Sylwae, Forest, Forest" over and over and over again.

Anyway, here are Bracie and I holding our new, insanely awesome, Scottish DIRKS!!!
Bracie is looking very lovely and Elvish.

And what could be more awesome than running with your cloak flying in the wind? By the way, green cloaks are excellent for camouflage, but it makes them difficult to photograph. =D

Dewey leaves seem to occur frequently in photography, and I felt the need to try my hand at it. Sargeant, my dog, nearly destroyed the leaf by licking it, stepping on it or eating it, about seventeen times.

This one is Bracie's:

Mine:

Aren't they awesome! I am spilling over with delight! They were gifts from my grandmother, who went to Scotland recently. They came unsharpened, but took them to a professional sharpener. We get them back next Thursday.

As you can see from the vast amounts of pictures I am posting, I am quite obsessed with my dirk.

I need some knee socks to slip it into for Easy Transportation. =D (That's one of the traditional ways of wearing them)

Grandma also gave Bracie and I each a beret. I really, really wish I had Scottish heritage.

Once, when I was talking to Bracie and my little brother Giles was listening, I said,

"Oh, I really want a Scottish Dirk!"

Giles piped up, "Why not have a nice Scotsman? I think you'd have a happier life."

"What???" I was confused.

"You said you wanted a Scottish Jerk!!!" he cried.

"No, Giles, a Scottish Dirk!" We had a good laugh over that one.

Again:

2009-08-25T12:02:00.000-07:00

I know, I know this is an old post. But I though I'd re-post it in honor of Bracie's new blog.

You, gentle readers, probably already know that my sister and I possess the lowly and slightly unfortunate vocation of Alpaca Pasture Maintenance. If you didn't know, now you know. So, since as of now, you all know and now I know that you know, I will proceed to describe an incident that happened a couple of weeks ago. I call it, "Death by Alpaca Poop." Keep in mind that this really happened and I only just barely embellished it.

It happens that my dear sister is a bit of a klutz. Don't look at me like that! She would be the one to tell you. And now, explorers of the world wide web, I will now venture to reveal to you a deep dark secret. You may have suspected this; Bracie is not her real name! Her real name is Grace. (Get it? Gracie, and Bracie? IT RHYMES! Bwahahaha! I think I'll kill myself laughing!) She has always deemed the name "Grace" an unfortunate choice for her on the part of her parents because she thinks it is so unsuited to her nature.

Anyway, it all began one rainy afternoon when Bracie and I were raking away at the seeming mountains of Alpaca poop. Every time we filled the big yellow wheelbarrow we would cart it back to the dump pile, taking turns rolling the unwieldy barrow along. At the particular moment in which this story took place, Bracie grasped the handlebars, and began to push the wheelbarrow up the wet, muddy slope. She shoved, but it was stuck! Then, she gave one great, mighty heave,

and slipped in the mud.

Bracie's feet wildly flailed and thrashed. You those cartoons, where a character runs off a cliff without knowing it, looks at the screen while his feet pound away at thin air, says, "Uh oh," and then falls? This was something like that. Anyway, she knelt in the mud, certain that the giant load of alpaca poop which now loomed over her head would fall and smother her at any second. The wheelbarrow slowly tipped back, creaking, groaning, about to crash 100 pounds of Alpaca poop on top of her! Bracie looked up helplessly at the wheelbarrow, towards her imminent death. I could see her eyes growing rounder, and rounder, wider and wider.

Just milliseconds before the load came tumbling down on her in all it's glory, Bracie displayed a superhuman feat of strength. With all that was within her, she whipped her head and torso up above the dastardly doodoo, narrowly missing being smothered by alpaca poop. If you can believe it, the monstrous load barely brushed her chin, neck and nose. She survived! You should of been there. That amazingly executed escape would have had you gazing in admiration at my dirty sister. She was so close to death. I could just see myself having to explain to friends and family, "Yes, poor Bracie came to a horrible end in the form of drowning... ina pile of poop."

You should have seen Bracie wipe the muck off her face with a soiled glove and exclaim, slightly hysterically, "Haha! Near death by alpaca poop! Typical me!"

Looking back on this incident makes me realize just how important family really is. Seeing Bracie dance with death puts life into perspective, and makes me realize that all the business and commotion that we put value on just doesn't matter. In that terrible moment when I saw Bracie kneeling helplessly under the wheelbarrow, I found out how much I love her.

Yeah right. Actually, I was dying laughing while it happened. I just thought that maybe I could squeeze a nice, cheesy inspirational paragraph in here somewhere to make up for the fact that I actually typed the words, "Alpaca Poop."

Note: About the photo: the wheelbarrow in the picture is only half as big as the one in real life.

Construction:

2009-08-25T11:53:00.001-07:00

To lighten my ANNOYANCE at blogger, here is a joke, courtesy of Giles, my little brother:

First Person: "Hey, wanna hear a construction joke?"

Second Person: "Sure!"

First Person: "Sorry, I'm still working on it."

Hysterical laughter erupts from the crowd. Of course.

But seriously, folks.
The layout of this blog is kind of weird at the moment because I am trying to turn it into a three column layout. However, it does the irritating thing where it puts a sidebar thingamajig under the header instead of in the SIDEbar. Hmph.

Anyone know how to fix this?

2009-08-24T08:25:00.000-07:00

A couple nights ago, Bracie was studying a book, How to Win Scholarships for College.

It was fascinating, I assure you.

Anyway, I was writing a quirky story, which completely absorbed my attention. Words tumbled out of my inspired mind like, uh, ink from a pen. I wrote so fast that I kept tearing the paper of my composition notebook with my pen's nib. Etc. Etc.

Bracie, who wanted to take notes but who had forgotten paper, said,

"Hey Oph, will you write something down for me?"

Me: "Mmmm-Hmmm." Still planning the next sentence of my story in my mind, I turned to another page.

Bracie: "Put down S.A.T.-"

Me: "Mmmmm-Hmmm"

Bracie: testing.org"

Me: "Mmmm-Hmmm."

Then, I looked down at my paper. I had absentmindedly written:

EssayTeaTesting.org

Yeah. Smart, huh?

A True Cowboy:

2009-08-21T12:50:00.000-07:00

Which picture should I enter for Equus Delirus' A True Cowboy/Cowgirl contest? Click HERE to enter.

Serious Randomness.

2009-08-19T21:02:00.000-07:00

On a whim, I asked Mom today, what was a Very Random Incident in her life.

After thinking several seconds, she responded,

"Once, at a chocolate festival in Yakima, I won a prize: a purple and green inflatable kayak."

For real. Isn't that random??? Since when did chocolate festivals hand out kayaks? Why purple and green?

I challenge YOU! Gentle readers, if you can come up with a real life incident more random than that, I shall actually try my hand at making an award for you.

TTFN! I think I am going to go look for some chocolate.

The Reluctant Dragon:

2009-08-17T09:18:00.000-07:00

Has anyone who reads this blog actually seen the cartoon?

As of late, we have been attempting to clean out our disastrously messy attic. Only instead of cleaning the attic, it seems like we are simply making the rest of the house cluttered. Our furnace room, the small closet-ish room in which the ladder to the attic stands, is shoulder high with garbage bags filled with JUNK! So, to get up, we swing from a lip on the inside of the door way. It is quite a feat of athleticism. I am very proud of myself. =D
These past few days, I have been making crucial decisions, like "Do we really need to keep the stuffed animal Pooh Bear I played with when I was six?" and "Must we keep three different copies of The Secret Garden?"
The worst part about cleaning up there is that I cannot stand up straight. My back hurts and I feel like I am 80 instead of 14. And there's always the chance that I could fall through the ceiling. Ah Well. I suppose I might survive. Maybe.

Slide:

2009-08-12T22:28:00.000-07:00

I found this on another blog, and I think it is awesome. I have doubts (strong ones) about the truth of the trick. =D

Now for the real question: Would you do it? I would in a heartbeat.

Do me a favor:

2009-08-11T09:02:00.000-07:00

Glance at my side bar and vote on my latest poll. I thought it would be interesting to see how many aspiring authors/authoresses we have out there.

Ouch.

2009-08-11T08:42:00.000-07:00

Saturday, my family went to a contra dance. We danced for something like eight hours, and as you can see, made a hole through three layers of leather.

And yesterday my feet still hurt. I felt like such a wimp! Now, however, I am refreshed and ready to bounce off walls.

In this fantastic example of our camera's capabilities, perhaps you may be able to see Giles, my brother, and Audrey:

They are the blue blob close to the front and the tallish blob right next to that. I really do not like our camera. For a while, it would only take pictures in shades of blue. Then orange. Now blurry.

Found:

2009-08-10T17:20:00.000-07:00

One Ophelia. Yup, I am back. Well, back online. I wasn't really gone, but Audrey was here and we were busy. In honor of her:

And I was suddenly, tragically struck with the thought that it is August, and I have less than a month before school starts. Maybe it was the rain that reminded me. Or perhaps it was starting my Writing about Books course I took this morning. Anyway, here's how I feel about the subject: Sick, by Shel Silverstein

'I cannot go to school today,

'Said little Peggy Ann McKay.'

I have the measles and the mumps,

A gash, a rash and purple bumps.

My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,

I'm going blind in my right eye.

My tonsils are as big as rocks,

I've counted sixteen chicken pox

And there's one more-that's seventeen,

And don't you think my face looks green?

My leg is cut-my eyes are blue-

It might be instamatic flu.

I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,

I'm sure that my left leg is broke-

My hip hurts when I move my chin,

My belly button's caving in,

My back is wrenched, my ankle's sprained,

My 'pendix pains each time it rains.

My nose is cold, my toes are numb.

I have a sliver in my thumb.

My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,

I hardly whisper when I speak.

My tongue is filling up my mouth,

I think my hair is falling out

My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight,

My temperature is one-o-eight.

My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,

There is a hole inside my ear.

I have a hangnail, and my heart is-what?

What's that? What's that you say?

You say today is...Saturday?

G'bye, I'm going out to play! '

Entry:

2009-08-08T09:43:00.000-07:00

Here is Bridget's entry for the contest:

2009-08-06T16:12:00.000-07:00

This is a highly intelligent, instructional video. If you watch it, it is imperative that you teach the thingamabob to someone else. Aubrey taught it to moi. Perhaps the trick isn't the most useful skill in the world. However, I maintain that it is an art! No body ever accused Picasso of creating useful things.