sometimes it's fun being an only child! I was just thinking - Jesus got to be an only child for a while, then he got to have siblings. He knows how all of us feel!! sorry, I just thought that was cool.
do you hear the people sing/singing a song of angry men/it is the music of a people who will not be slaves again/when the beating of your heart echoes the beating of the drums/there is a life about to start/when tomorrow comes
I love GotRadio. it's pretty awesome.
I'm bored - can you tell? there's a million things I could be doing though, so I have no excuse. as soon as I'm done obliging you with this post I'll go do one of them. I built a fire today...my cream puffs for Thanksgiving were sketchy. I saw the coolest Converse that looked like an American flag when shopping yesterday! We didn't go to the mall but we did go Christmas shopping the day after Thanksgiving. today has been productive I guess, but I feel like there's nothing to write about. mostly we're just hanging out and I wish my dad was here. I'm really going to miss him when we're in India... :'(
oh yeah, and I'm completely in love with Mike Eldred!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Go here:
http://musicdownloads.walmart.com/catalog/servlet/SearchServlet;jsessionid=HLDF2S2sJ2R250h4dTLp2z7D2TyzcQ1mVfhyQfvkTNCyP3tWp6B9!-1767564058?action=artist&term=mike+eldred
and listen to any and/or every song. he's pretty much amazing and I'm completely in love with him...*sigh*
I should go now. I'm being really boring and I don't need to spread my boringness to any of you!
November 24, 2007
November 22, 2007
I think I'm on the brink of something large/maybe like the breaking of a dawn/or maybe like a match being lit/or the sinking of a ship
letting go gives a better grip
so this must be the second of my bimonthly posts. I'm sorry I can't post more often - I really would like to but days like these are so rare now...life can be a pain when it's not horrendously fun! or maybe sometimes it's both.
I'm sitting in my grandparents' kitchen at the computer (I know, it's kind of a weird spot but it works ok?) and the whole house smells like turkey and stuffing. I just took a shower so I feel nice and clean. It's half-time in the football game and my grandpa's favorite team is favored to win - and is doing it. life seems pretty good, but then you stop to think that it was never really that bad after all. We're watching Live Free or Die Hard later with all three generations of Die Hard fans (not that I've seen any of the other ones...) and dinner is around three, or whenever our 22 pound turkey is done. let's see...that's just over four pounds each...that should be enough right? well we kind of thought maybe some other people might end up coming ha-ha. ;)
I feel very down-to-earth today. and it feels nice. last night I was extremely hyper, which is fun as always, but after watching the Silver Surfer and coming down from the sugar high and getting very tired, I headed off to my very own room (it's nice being an only grandchild) and snuggled up with both of my cats and fell asleep.
on Sunday I got a lot of new music and chords for 17 songs our youth group worship team is adding to our repertoire of songs. by the way, we came up with a name for our band! well...the yearbook kids were there and needed a name on the spot so Alex and Anthony came up with Called from the Wreckage. I really like it. not that we ever use it but it's nice to think about. and Roger gave me some tiny little earphones that I can have in one ear so I can hear me and the band which is nice.
I like to think about staying here as long as I want without typing up the phone line. being able to draft posts in blogger instead of Word because it doesn't matter if I'm online or not. and that I'll be here all weekend too. :)
tomorrow I might get to hang out with a friend I haven't seen in months. She's the busiest person I've ever met in my life by far (I'm very serious, no hyperbole here), and she lives in Seattle so we don't get together much. we don't even talk much. but she'll be in the Nutcracker tomorrow when we go see it and if I can get ahold of her today we'll hang out some time tomorrow afternoon! I just left a message...I hope she calls me back....
we're having cream puffs tonight. I'm making them. :P with chocolate whipped cream. we're making it in the VitaMix my grandma just bought at Costco. VitaMixes really are amazing. These cream puffs are not scrambled egg cream puffs.
"sempre fi."
"that's the marine corps sir, this is the army."
"oh, right."
"why'd you bring a cop into my command center???"
"it's a basement!"
"it's a command center."
I should get some breakfast. It's kind of funny I haven't even been hungry really until now. I got up at 7:30 for some absurd reason. everyone gets up early here. it's really rather depressing. maybe that is why so many people find Christmas depressing.
okay, I'll probably post again sometime this week. at least I'll be on and commenting often so everyone else needs to post too!
so this must be the second of my bimonthly posts. I'm sorry I can't post more often - I really would like to but days like these are so rare now...life can be a pain when it's not horrendously fun! or maybe sometimes it's both.
I'm sitting in my grandparents' kitchen at the computer (I know, it's kind of a weird spot but it works ok?) and the whole house smells like turkey and stuffing. I just took a shower so I feel nice and clean. It's half-time in the football game and my grandpa's favorite team is favored to win - and is doing it. life seems pretty good, but then you stop to think that it was never really that bad after all. We're watching Live Free or Die Hard later with all three generations of Die Hard fans (not that I've seen any of the other ones...) and dinner is around three, or whenever our 22 pound turkey is done. let's see...that's just over four pounds each...that should be enough right? well we kind of thought maybe some other people might end up coming ha-ha. ;)
I feel very down-to-earth today. and it feels nice. last night I was extremely hyper, which is fun as always, but after watching the Silver Surfer and coming down from the sugar high and getting very tired, I headed off to my very own room (it's nice being an only grandchild) and snuggled up with both of my cats and fell asleep.
on Sunday I got a lot of new music and chords for 17 songs our youth group worship team is adding to our repertoire of songs. by the way, we came up with a name for our band! well...the yearbook kids were there and needed a name on the spot so Alex and Anthony came up with Called from the Wreckage. I really like it. not that we ever use it but it's nice to think about. and Roger gave me some tiny little earphones that I can have in one ear so I can hear me and the band which is nice.
I like to think about staying here as long as I want without typing up the phone line. being able to draft posts in blogger instead of Word because it doesn't matter if I'm online or not. and that I'll be here all weekend too. :)
tomorrow I might get to hang out with a friend I haven't seen in months. She's the busiest person I've ever met in my life by far (I'm very serious, no hyperbole here), and she lives in Seattle so we don't get together much. we don't even talk much. but she'll be in the Nutcracker tomorrow when we go see it and if I can get ahold of her today we'll hang out some time tomorrow afternoon! I just left a message...I hope she calls me back....
we're having cream puffs tonight. I'm making them. :P with chocolate whipped cream. we're making it in the VitaMix my grandma just bought at Costco. VitaMixes really are amazing. These cream puffs are not scrambled egg cream puffs.
"sempre fi."
"that's the marine corps sir, this is the army."
"oh, right."
"why'd you bring a cop into my command center???"
"it's a basement!"
"it's a command center."
I should get some breakfast. It's kind of funny I haven't even been hungry really until now. I got up at 7:30 for some absurd reason. everyone gets up early here. it's really rather depressing. maybe that is why so many people find Christmas depressing.
okay, I'll probably post again sometime this week. at least I'll be on and commenting often so everyone else needs to post too!
November 11, 2007
then I saw the Congo, creeping through the black/cutting through the forest with a golden track
O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;
The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keep, the vessel grim and daring:
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up – for the you flag is flung – for you the bugle trills;
For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths – for you the shores a-crowding;
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning:
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath you head;
It is some dream that on the deck
You've fallen cold and dead.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse or will;
The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won:
Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead
~Uncle Walt~
Sometimes I think I must be very strange indeed to like Dead Poets Society ;) Basically it's the story of a bunch of boys, all essentially alike, in a prep school that wants them all to stay that way. Oh, and it's an all-boys school. All the teachers believe that boys at that age can't think for themselves and must be told what to think, not how to think (sounds like public school today, no?). There are several boys there that know each other, perhaps returning or graduates from a different school, and one new student who knows none of them. Neil Perry is the hero of our story – young, handsome, dashing, with great dreams handed down to him by his father. Of course he has his own dreams too, but those are quite secondary. Todd Anderson is the human equivalent of a Pixie Bob – he always has a worried expression on his face, and usually is worried because he doesn't know what's going on. Todd and Neil both have big shoes to fill, one left by his brother, the other left by his father.
there are five or six other boys in their "group" who somehow figure out ways to pass their classes when they never study in Study Group.
Mr. Keating is the new English teacher. His methods are a little beyond, shall we say, unorthodox. He begins the first class by walking in at the back of the room whistling, walking through the class and walking out the other door at the front of the classroom. He sticks his head back in, "Well, come on!" Here 'carpe diem' is introduced into the boys' lives. If you haven't had the pleasure of learning a dead language and don't know carpe diem, Anna will be tickled pink as a mome rath to tell you.
Later Neil and the others discover Mr. Keating's secret: he is a graduate of their same school, and was president of the Dead Poet's Society; a group of young men who met in the Old Indian Cave at night to read poetry, or rather – to let it drip from their tongues like honey. Neil revives the club.
Then it's a whirlwind of adventure and drama as Mr. Keating finds himself in over his head with the school board, and his boys discover the life in words. Neil's dream of acting comes true when he lands the part of Puck in A Midsummer Night's Dream.
Knox (or Knoxious) renames himself Nuanda and gets the girl (and a heap of trouble with him and his big head/mouth/etc.) The poet in Todd jumps out of him with the unexpected rapidity of Mr. Hyde and amazes the whole class. Cameron and egg-head get the radio to work. Dalton always gets me confused about him and Knox and which one is which – oh wait, Nuanda, sorry. It's the day before the play and everything is good.
Then Neil's father finds out.
Neil lies.
Neil goes to the play, Neil's father also comes in, at the end. Neil goes home and gets ready for ten more years of army and then medical school (after the ten years of grounding he'll probably be undergoing). His father won't ever listen.
A few short hours later he takes off his final mask. He stops acting. He can't live life like this anymore. No life is better than trying to live his father's life for hime.
He pulls the trigger.
Todd freaks out, the Dead Poet's Society is discovered and broken up. Mr. Keating is fired and English returns to Mr. J. Evans Pritchard PhD's horizontal/vertical judging scale.
Then, as Mr. Keating comes to collect his last few personal items, something snaps. He's leaving the room, he's walking through the door. But suddenly, he turns. Something has caught his ear. 'O Captain! my Captain!' Todd Anderson is standing on his desk with a last salute. One by one "his boys" mount their desks. 'O Captain! my Captain!' with the new teacher yelling all the while "sit down! get off your desks!!!" The bagpipes fade out with the tears welling in the Captain's eyes. 'Thank you boys.'
So why do I like this movie?
I have no idea.
My favorite scene in the entire movie is the desk set scene. It really brings out Neil's character as a friend and is a big part of Todd growing up:
NEIL: Todd? Hey.
TODD: Hey.
NEIL: What's going on?
TODD: Nothing. Today's my birthday.
NEIL: Is today your birthday? Happy birthday.
TODD: Thanks.
NEIL: What'd you get?
TODD: My parents gave me this. Neil looks down at a deskset sitting next to Todd, still inits wrappings.
NEIL: Isn't this the same desk set-
TODD: Yeah, yeah. They gave me the same thing as last year.
NEIL: Oh.
TODD: Oh.
NEIL: (laughing) Maybe they thought you needed another one.
TODD: Maybe they weren't thinking about anything at all. Uh, the funny thing is about this is I, I didn't even like it the first time.
NEIL: Todd, I think you're underestimating the value of this desk set. Neil picks up the desk set and begins examining it more closely.
NEIL: I mean, who would want a football or a baseball, or-
TODD: Or a car.
NEIL: Or a car - if they could have a desk set as wonderful as this one? I mean, if, if I were ever going to buy a desk set, twice, I would probably buy this one - both times. In fact, its, its shape is, it's rather aerodynamic, isn't it? I can feel it. This desk set wants to fly.
Neil tosses the desk set lightly in the air. Todd stands up and Neil hands him the desk set.
NEIL: Todd? The world's first unmanned flying desk set.
Todd flings the desk set over the side of the walkway and itfalls to pieces down below.
TODD: Oh, my!
NEIL: Well, I wouldn't worry. You'll get another one next year.
So today after taking first at the cat show with Lil instead of Comet (who has conjunctivitis) I went to Lauren's house and we hanged out (yes, like Fagin was hanged, we hanged out, it's British Sam and not one peep out of you!) and watched Princess Bride and then we made dinner and I convinced her to read Nicholas Nickleby and the Count of Monte Cristo (among others), then she drove me home and I'm showing her which version of Nicholas Nickleby to get from the library to watch:
"Make sure it's the one with Jamie Bell. That's very important!"
"My parents snort"
"What????"
"Oh yeah, Jamie Bell……." like, *we've heard enough of this before*
"What?!? I don't think he's cute. That's *somebody else we know who shall remain nameless* I just love Smike. Smike's adorable. Jamie Bell is the most amazing actor for Smike that could be found anywhere ever!"
"But wait – Jamie Bell, from Horatio Hornblower series right?"
"Noooo, that's *sighsmile* Jamie Bamber" *'dark raspberry' takes on a new meaning as it decorates my face*
"Oooohhhh, riiiiiiigggghhhhhtttttt…" *giggle from three corners of the room*
"Hey Kacy that new shade of blush looks really good on you."
"Hey I'm not the only one! Anna and Em can back me up here. It's been scientifically determined that we all three like blondes!!!" It's amazing what late-night talks can produce in the way of scientific evidences.
*sigh* She'll learn soon enough. I'll get her to see Horatio soon!!!! Oh, but Amazing Grace first. Same main actor, anyway. just…not Jamie.
The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keep, the vessel grim and daring:
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up – for the you flag is flung – for you the bugle trills;
For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths – for you the shores a-crowding;
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning:
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath you head;
It is some dream that on the deck
You've fallen cold and dead.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse or will;
The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won:
Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!
But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead
~Uncle Walt~
Sometimes I think I must be very strange indeed to like Dead Poets Society ;) Basically it's the story of a bunch of boys, all essentially alike, in a prep school that wants them all to stay that way. Oh, and it's an all-boys school. All the teachers believe that boys at that age can't think for themselves and must be told what to think, not how to think (sounds like public school today, no?). There are several boys there that know each other, perhaps returning or graduates from a different school, and one new student who knows none of them. Neil Perry is the hero of our story – young, handsome, dashing, with great dreams handed down to him by his father. Of course he has his own dreams too, but those are quite secondary. Todd Anderson is the human equivalent of a Pixie Bob – he always has a worried expression on his face, and usually is worried because he doesn't know what's going on. Todd and Neil both have big shoes to fill, one left by his brother, the other left by his father.
there are five or six other boys in their "group" who somehow figure out ways to pass their classes when they never study in Study Group.
Mr. Keating is the new English teacher. His methods are a little beyond, shall we say, unorthodox. He begins the first class by walking in at the back of the room whistling, walking through the class and walking out the other door at the front of the classroom. He sticks his head back in, "Well, come on!" Here 'carpe diem' is introduced into the boys' lives. If you haven't had the pleasure of learning a dead language and don't know carpe diem, Anna will be tickled pink as a mome rath to tell you.
Later Neil and the others discover Mr. Keating's secret: he is a graduate of their same school, and was president of the Dead Poet's Society; a group of young men who met in the Old Indian Cave at night to read poetry, or rather – to let it drip from their tongues like honey. Neil revives the club.
Then it's a whirlwind of adventure and drama as Mr. Keating finds himself in over his head with the school board, and his boys discover the life in words. Neil's dream of acting comes true when he lands the part of Puck in A Midsummer Night's Dream.
Knox (or Knoxious) renames himself Nuanda and gets the girl (and a heap of trouble with him and his big head/mouth/etc.) The poet in Todd jumps out of him with the unexpected rapidity of Mr. Hyde and amazes the whole class. Cameron and egg-head get the radio to work. Dalton always gets me confused about him and Knox and which one is which – oh wait, Nuanda, sorry. It's the day before the play and everything is good.
Then Neil's father finds out.
Neil lies.
Neil goes to the play, Neil's father also comes in, at the end. Neil goes home and gets ready for ten more years of army and then medical school (after the ten years of grounding he'll probably be undergoing). His father won't ever listen.
A few short hours later he takes off his final mask. He stops acting. He can't live life like this anymore. No life is better than trying to live his father's life for hime.
He pulls the trigger.
Todd freaks out, the Dead Poet's Society is discovered and broken up. Mr. Keating is fired and English returns to Mr. J. Evans Pritchard PhD's horizontal/vertical judging scale.
Then, as Mr. Keating comes to collect his last few personal items, something snaps. He's leaving the room, he's walking through the door. But suddenly, he turns. Something has caught his ear. 'O Captain! my Captain!' Todd Anderson is standing on his desk with a last salute. One by one "his boys" mount their desks. 'O Captain! my Captain!' with the new teacher yelling all the while "sit down! get off your desks!!!" The bagpipes fade out with the tears welling in the Captain's eyes. 'Thank you boys.'
So why do I like this movie?
I have no idea.
My favorite scene in the entire movie is the desk set scene. It really brings out Neil's character as a friend and is a big part of Todd growing up:
NEIL: Todd? Hey.
TODD: Hey.
NEIL: What's going on?
TODD: Nothing. Today's my birthday.
NEIL: Is today your birthday? Happy birthday.
TODD: Thanks.
NEIL: What'd you get?
TODD: My parents gave me this. Neil looks down at a deskset sitting next to Todd, still inits wrappings.
NEIL: Isn't this the same desk set-
TODD: Yeah, yeah. They gave me the same thing as last year.
NEIL: Oh.
TODD: Oh.
NEIL: (laughing) Maybe they thought you needed another one.
TODD: Maybe they weren't thinking about anything at all. Uh, the funny thing is about this is I, I didn't even like it the first time.
NEIL: Todd, I think you're underestimating the value of this desk set. Neil picks up the desk set and begins examining it more closely.
NEIL: I mean, who would want a football or a baseball, or-
TODD: Or a car.
NEIL: Or a car - if they could have a desk set as wonderful as this one? I mean, if, if I were ever going to buy a desk set, twice, I would probably buy this one - both times. In fact, its, its shape is, it's rather aerodynamic, isn't it? I can feel it. This desk set wants to fly.
Neil tosses the desk set lightly in the air. Todd stands up and Neil hands him the desk set.
NEIL: Todd? The world's first unmanned flying desk set.
Todd flings the desk set over the side of the walkway and itfalls to pieces down below.
TODD: Oh, my!
NEIL: Well, I wouldn't worry. You'll get another one next year.
So today after taking first at the cat show with Lil instead of Comet (who has conjunctivitis) I went to Lauren's house and we hanged out (yes, like Fagin was hanged, we hanged out, it's British Sam and not one peep out of you!) and watched Princess Bride and then we made dinner and I convinced her to read Nicholas Nickleby and the Count of Monte Cristo (among others), then she drove me home and I'm showing her which version of Nicholas Nickleby to get from the library to watch:
"Make sure it's the one with Jamie Bell. That's very important!"
"My parents snort"
"What????"
"Oh yeah, Jamie Bell……." like, *we've heard enough of this before*
"What?!? I don't think he's cute. That's *somebody else we know who shall remain nameless* I just love Smike. Smike's adorable. Jamie Bell is the most amazing actor for Smike that could be found anywhere ever!"
"But wait – Jamie Bell, from Horatio Hornblower series right?"
"Noooo, that's *sighsmile* Jamie Bamber" *'dark raspberry' takes on a new meaning as it decorates my face*
"Oooohhhh, riiiiiiigggghhhhhtttttt…" *giggle from three corners of the room*
"Hey Kacy that new shade of blush looks really good on you."
"Hey I'm not the only one! Anna and Em can back me up here. It's been scientifically determined that we all three like blondes!!!" It's amazing what late-night talks can produce in the way of scientific evidences.
*sigh* She'll learn soon enough. I'll get her to see Horatio soon!!!! Oh, but Amazing Grace first. Same main actor, anyway. just…not Jamie.
November 5, 2007
it was the look on their faces
Listening to Nicholas Nickleby from the other room…it’s really quite entertaining:
“Mr. Folair your trap! Shut your trap Mr. Folair!”
“The flames Mr. Folair, remember they’re hot!” “Ow.”
“Somebody forgot his spear.”
“Remember Mr. Folair, you are a savage, not a demented fairy!”
“Mr. Folair, there’s a problem with your head.”
who calls so loud?
“Should I choke?” “I think fainting might be more romantic.”
once, nobody was ashamed.
“Are you at home?”
“Yes.”
“To anybody?”
“Yes.”
“To the tax collector?”
“No.”
the Highland Fling.
“What’s come now?”
“I have.”
“What else?”
“A letter. Marked: ‘Urgent as well as Extreemly Importent.’ It’s from the Squeer’s”
“Wackford?”
“Doubtful. It’s perfumed.”
“Dear Mr. Knuckleboy Sir, My pa requests me to write to you, as the doctors are considering it doubtful whether he will ever recover the use of his legs, which prevents his holding a pen.’”
“Very well. We’ll have posters out in the morning announcing positively your last performance for tomorrow…with reengagement by popular demand for Friday. Then on Saturday we’ll have your absolutely last appearance…with the possibility of another performance to follow.”
“I must say that tonight was my absolutely positively final last performance!”
“Dear girl, take this, please!”
“But I am not crying.”
“Oh, the handkerchief’s for me. The arm’s for you.”
So, it's been a really busy…what is it, two weeks or so? Our church had their harvest festival Wednesday night, which was absolutely amazing!!!! The whole sanctuary was transformed into a Candyland board, Gramma Nut's house turned out really cute, and I ended up being Gramma Nut (which means I got to dress up but didn't have to do anything!). I didn't get sick, but I did get a leftover jar of frosting and two giant cardboard candy canes out of it. Oh yeah, and…the kids seemed to have a good time too!! And I got to test out the maze (made of PVC pipe and black plastic) twice, and didn't get lost! Ah…I really am a little kid at heart.
Sam you still have a blogger account right???? because we're all going to mutiny you if you deleted your blog and your account, you know that right? good then, we're all square.
Last weekend I had training for India, so that's why I wasn't on. But it was sooo awesome!!! We really got to know everyone on the team much better so that was great, plus learning about communicating to different cultures, and what not to do….And I have to say that Don Quixote is about the funniest book in the world, really. well….except maybe a few other ones….ha-ha.
Making houses out of wood and cardboard can actually be dangerous, believe it or not. However, have no fear, for we were cautious to the utmost degree, and the worst wound I receives was hitting myself in the head with a crowbar. Don't try this at home kids, it hurts.
Oh, and the only other really big piece of news is that Satsumas are out early, which means Christmas time is here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
*happy face* :) :) :) :)
:P :P :P :P :-) :-) :-) :-)
I was telling my dad at the harvest festival that if we could dance, it would be a masquerade ball. He didn't want to dance, so I danced a little by myself, but it wasn't the same. Next year on Halloween we should all get together and have a masquerade ball!!! yeah – totally!!!!!!!!
Oh I also got my SEND! magazine from GFA, and my dad got me one of their books, Road to Reality, which is probably one of the best books I've ever read and you should all get it right after you're done with Leave it to Psmith, and also two of their DVD's, Touch of Love and To Live is Christ. Both very very good, of course, and I've been very happy for the most part lately too. I clipped my cats claws this morning and emerged from the fray with no battle scars! The only bleak spot on the horizon is that Gandalf just died, and Aragorn is never returning to Cerin Amroth, and Arwen's gonna die there because her jerk of a husband is afraid of old age. But really, other than that life is good.
I can see I'm boring you, so I shall adjourn to play my Nutcracker and Christmas music now!!!
By the way, this is a report I wrote a couple weeks ago. I'd appreciate some constructive criticism if you guys want to say anything. Thanks!
Our Last Cruise
On a cold November day in 1850, a child was born in Edinburgh, Scotland. He would grow up with weak lungs, a love of travel, adventure, and the sea. He was given the name Robert Lewis Balfour Stevenson, a combination of his two grandfathers Robert Stevenson and Lewis Balfour. From the latter he inherited a love of writing, and though it was expected that Robert would follow the last three generations of his family and become a lighthouse engineer, after graduating from Edinburgh Academy and preparing to enter the University of Edinburgh he realized that not only did he not wish to follow that career path, but his physical endurance was not such that he could if he had wanted to.
Stevenson's father was very strict, and the two never got along well together. After taking a voyage with his father to investigate lighthouse construction, Robert finally persuaded the elder to allow him to follow an interest in literature, on the condition that he earn a degree in law to fall back upon if (or when, as his father was convinced he would) he failed in writing. Stevenson wrote a verse of poetry protesting his father's strictness after earning the law degree and nearly killing himself with study and worry. His health was permanently damaged.
From 1875-1879 Stevenson traveled, searching for a favorable climate for his lungs. He frequented France in the winters, where he met his future wife, Frances (Fanny) Osbourne, an American who was married at the time. He also made many friends – literary, dramatic and religious. This is when his writing first started to take flight, with An Inland Voyage and Travels with a Donkey in the Cevennes, in addition to several essays and articles. Despite this period of beginnings while Stevenson was discovering and perfecting his style, his parents were unhappy with him and thought he was wasting his time –time they were paying for.
In 1879 Robert heard that Fanny was very ill in California, and against the advice of his friends he left to care for her, without informing his parents. Although he loved the voyage (where he traveled third class both to save money, and to get a better idea of how people of different social status lived), by the time he had traveled from New York to California his health was again in a compromising situation, and he was probably in a worse condition than Ms. Osbourne herself. He was required to stay with some ranchers who cared for him until healthy enough to finish the journey to San Francisco. There he lived on forty-five cents a day doing hard labor, and soon it was Fanny who was caring for him. His father cabled money when he heard about his son's condition, and in May 1880 they were married.
Stevenson was a romantic at heart as much as he was an optimist, and for their honeymoon he took his wife to an abandoned mining camp at Mount Saint Helena, which experience he published in The Silverado Squatters. Later that year he and his new wife returned to his family in Britain, where Fanny mended the differences between father and son, and there they lived happily for the next seven years. Over this period of time Stevenson made a name for himself with some of his best-known works: Treasure Island, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Kidnapped, The Black Arrow, and A Child's Garden of Verses.
At the end of this period Robert's father passed away and he considered himself at liberty to travel to a different climate in hopes to better his health. And so, he took his wife, mother and step-son to America, where they decided to winter at Saranac Lake in the Adirondacks. Here he began The Master of Ballantrae, and spent the winter planning the sea voyage he was to take the next summer with his family to the South Pacific.
The sea air and warm climate restored his health for three happy years; he traveled to Tahiti, the Hawaiian, Gilbert, and Samoan Islands. His writing went through an excellent phase in which he completed The Master of Ballantrae, David Balfour, and The Bottle Imp, amongst others. In 1890 Stevenson bought 400 acres on Upolu, one of the Samoan Islands, and settled down. During his years here he was very concerned in local politics, helping people see the inefficiency of the European rulers appointed over the natives. He also found some time for his writing here, though he said it went through phases and at one point was very depressed, claiming that the best he could come up with was ditch water. But in 1894 he began The Weir of Hermiston and announced that is was "so good it frightens me." The thing he feared most during these years was a return of his tuberculosis – to be an invalid he considered worse than to be hanged. His wish was fulfilled: he died on December 3rd of a cerebral hemorrhage in only a few hours, after having spent seven happy and influential years in the South Pacific. He was buried by the natives on nearby Mt. Vaea, overlooking the sea, and on his tomb was inscribed the Requiem he himself had written:
Under the wide and starry sky,
Dig the grave and let me die.
Glad did I live, and gladly die,
And I laid me down with a will.
This be the verse you grave for me:
'Here he lies where he longed to be;
Home is the sailor, home from the sea,
And the hunter home from the hill.'
Robert Louis Stevenson's legacy has taken as many turns for better and for worse as his life did. In his time he was hailed as a great writer, but after his death people began to criticize his work as second-class, written for only children's and horror genres. He was condemned by authors such as Virginia Woolf and Leonard Woolf, and completely left out of Oxford Anthology of English Literature and the first seven editions of Norton's Anthology of English Literature. It is only within the last decade that literary minds and others have begun to see him once again a visionary of his century – someone with great intellect and insight into the nature of humanity. One of Stevenson's defining factors was how much he wrote from real life, including his romanticism, his optimism, his adventuresome nature, and his concern for the peoples of the South Pacific. Today he is the 25th most translated writer – more than Dickens, Wilde and Poe.
Despite great health issues in his life, what Stevenson is probably loved for most as a man is his optimistic spirit and buoyancy. He once said of himself that "mine is a blessed life; it is too bad I can not have that one other blessing – health. But although you will be mad to hear me say so, I think it best." His philosophy of life is best summed up in his own words: "Old and young, we are all on our last cruise."
“Mr. Folair your trap! Shut your trap Mr. Folair!”
“The flames Mr. Folair, remember they’re hot!” “Ow.”
“Somebody forgot his spear.”
“Remember Mr. Folair, you are a savage, not a demented fairy!”
“Mr. Folair, there’s a problem with your head.”
who calls so loud?
“Should I choke?” “I think fainting might be more romantic.”
once, nobody was ashamed.
“Are you at home?”
“Yes.”
“To anybody?”
“Yes.”
“To the tax collector?”
“No.”
the Highland Fling.
“What’s come now?”
“I have.”
“What else?”
“A letter. Marked: ‘Urgent as well as Extreemly Importent.’ It’s from the Squeer’s”
“Wackford?”
“Doubtful. It’s perfumed.”
“Dear Mr. Knuckleboy Sir, My pa requests me to write to you, as the doctors are considering it doubtful whether he will ever recover the use of his legs, which prevents his holding a pen.’”
“Very well. We’ll have posters out in the morning announcing positively your last performance for tomorrow…with reengagement by popular demand for Friday. Then on Saturday we’ll have your absolutely last appearance…with the possibility of another performance to follow.”
“I must say that tonight was my absolutely positively final last performance!”
“Dear girl, take this, please!”
“But I am not crying.”
“Oh, the handkerchief’s for me. The arm’s for you.”
So, it's been a really busy…what is it, two weeks or so? Our church had their harvest festival Wednesday night, which was absolutely amazing!!!! The whole sanctuary was transformed into a Candyland board, Gramma Nut's house turned out really cute, and I ended up being Gramma Nut (which means I got to dress up but didn't have to do anything!). I didn't get sick, but I did get a leftover jar of frosting and two giant cardboard candy canes out of it. Oh yeah, and…the kids seemed to have a good time too!! And I got to test out the maze (made of PVC pipe and black plastic) twice, and didn't get lost! Ah…I really am a little kid at heart.
Sam you still have a blogger account right???? because we're all going to mutiny you if you deleted your blog and your account, you know that right? good then, we're all square.
Last weekend I had training for India, so that's why I wasn't on. But it was sooo awesome!!! We really got to know everyone on the team much better so that was great, plus learning about communicating to different cultures, and what not to do….And I have to say that Don Quixote is about the funniest book in the world, really. well….except maybe a few other ones….ha-ha.
Making houses out of wood and cardboard can actually be dangerous, believe it or not. However, have no fear, for we were cautious to the utmost degree, and the worst wound I receives was hitting myself in the head with a crowbar. Don't try this at home kids, it hurts.
Oh, and the only other really big piece of news is that Satsumas are out early, which means Christmas time is here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
*happy face* :) :) :) :)
:P :P :P :P :-) :-) :-) :-)
I was telling my dad at the harvest festival that if we could dance, it would be a masquerade ball. He didn't want to dance, so I danced a little by myself, but it wasn't the same. Next year on Halloween we should all get together and have a masquerade ball!!! yeah – totally!!!!!!!!
Oh I also got my SEND! magazine from GFA, and my dad got me one of their books, Road to Reality, which is probably one of the best books I've ever read and you should all get it right after you're done with Leave it to Psmith, and also two of their DVD's, Touch of Love and To Live is Christ. Both very very good, of course, and I've been very happy for the most part lately too. I clipped my cats claws this morning and emerged from the fray with no battle scars! The only bleak spot on the horizon is that Gandalf just died, and Aragorn is never returning to Cerin Amroth, and Arwen's gonna die there because her jerk of a husband is afraid of old age. But really, other than that life is good.
I can see I'm boring you, so I shall adjourn to play my Nutcracker and Christmas music now!!!
By the way, this is a report I wrote a couple weeks ago. I'd appreciate some constructive criticism if you guys want to say anything. Thanks!
Our Last Cruise
On a cold November day in 1850, a child was born in Edinburgh, Scotland. He would grow up with weak lungs, a love of travel, adventure, and the sea. He was given the name Robert Lewis Balfour Stevenson, a combination of his two grandfathers Robert Stevenson and Lewis Balfour. From the latter he inherited a love of writing, and though it was expected that Robert would follow the last three generations of his family and become a lighthouse engineer, after graduating from Edinburgh Academy and preparing to enter the University of Edinburgh he realized that not only did he not wish to follow that career path, but his physical endurance was not such that he could if he had wanted to.
Stevenson's father was very strict, and the two never got along well together. After taking a voyage with his father to investigate lighthouse construction, Robert finally persuaded the elder to allow him to follow an interest in literature, on the condition that he earn a degree in law to fall back upon if (or when, as his father was convinced he would) he failed in writing. Stevenson wrote a verse of poetry protesting his father's strictness after earning the law degree and nearly killing himself with study and worry. His health was permanently damaged.
From 1875-1879 Stevenson traveled, searching for a favorable climate for his lungs. He frequented France in the winters, where he met his future wife, Frances (Fanny) Osbourne, an American who was married at the time. He also made many friends – literary, dramatic and religious. This is when his writing first started to take flight, with An Inland Voyage and Travels with a Donkey in the Cevennes, in addition to several essays and articles. Despite this period of beginnings while Stevenson was discovering and perfecting his style, his parents were unhappy with him and thought he was wasting his time –time they were paying for.
In 1879 Robert heard that Fanny was very ill in California, and against the advice of his friends he left to care for her, without informing his parents. Although he loved the voyage (where he traveled third class both to save money, and to get a better idea of how people of different social status lived), by the time he had traveled from New York to California his health was again in a compromising situation, and he was probably in a worse condition than Ms. Osbourne herself. He was required to stay with some ranchers who cared for him until healthy enough to finish the journey to San Francisco. There he lived on forty-five cents a day doing hard labor, and soon it was Fanny who was caring for him. His father cabled money when he heard about his son's condition, and in May 1880 they were married.
Stevenson was a romantic at heart as much as he was an optimist, and for their honeymoon he took his wife to an abandoned mining camp at Mount Saint Helena, which experience he published in The Silverado Squatters. Later that year he and his new wife returned to his family in Britain, where Fanny mended the differences between father and son, and there they lived happily for the next seven years. Over this period of time Stevenson made a name for himself with some of his best-known works: Treasure Island, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Kidnapped, The Black Arrow, and A Child's Garden of Verses.
At the end of this period Robert's father passed away and he considered himself at liberty to travel to a different climate in hopes to better his health. And so, he took his wife, mother and step-son to America, where they decided to winter at Saranac Lake in the Adirondacks. Here he began The Master of Ballantrae, and spent the winter planning the sea voyage he was to take the next summer with his family to the South Pacific.
The sea air and warm climate restored his health for three happy years; he traveled to Tahiti, the Hawaiian, Gilbert, and Samoan Islands. His writing went through an excellent phase in which he completed The Master of Ballantrae, David Balfour, and The Bottle Imp, amongst others. In 1890 Stevenson bought 400 acres on Upolu, one of the Samoan Islands, and settled down. During his years here he was very concerned in local politics, helping people see the inefficiency of the European rulers appointed over the natives. He also found some time for his writing here, though he said it went through phases and at one point was very depressed, claiming that the best he could come up with was ditch water. But in 1894 he began The Weir of Hermiston and announced that is was "so good it frightens me." The thing he feared most during these years was a return of his tuberculosis – to be an invalid he considered worse than to be hanged. His wish was fulfilled: he died on December 3rd of a cerebral hemorrhage in only a few hours, after having spent seven happy and influential years in the South Pacific. He was buried by the natives on nearby Mt. Vaea, overlooking the sea, and on his tomb was inscribed the Requiem he himself had written:
Under the wide and starry sky,
Dig the grave and let me die.
Glad did I live, and gladly die,
And I laid me down with a will.
This be the verse you grave for me:
'Here he lies where he longed to be;
Home is the sailor, home from the sea,
And the hunter home from the hill.'
Robert Louis Stevenson's legacy has taken as many turns for better and for worse as his life did. In his time he was hailed as a great writer, but after his death people began to criticize his work as second-class, written for only children's and horror genres. He was condemned by authors such as Virginia Woolf and Leonard Woolf, and completely left out of Oxford Anthology of English Literature and the first seven editions of Norton's Anthology of English Literature. It is only within the last decade that literary minds and others have begun to see him once again a visionary of his century – someone with great intellect and insight into the nature of humanity. One of Stevenson's defining factors was how much he wrote from real life, including his romanticism, his optimism, his adventuresome nature, and his concern for the peoples of the South Pacific. Today he is the 25th most translated writer – more than Dickens, Wilde and Poe.
Despite great health issues in his life, what Stevenson is probably loved for most as a man is his optimistic spirit and buoyancy. He once said of himself that "mine is a blessed life; it is too bad I can not have that one other blessing – health. But although you will be mad to hear me say so, I think it best." His philosophy of life is best summed up in his own words: "Old and young, we are all on our last cruise."
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