Thursday, October 26, 2006

"For he's a jolly good fellow..."


Many happy returns of this blessed day.

Saturday, October 21, 2006

I talk too much... I'm letting other people put their oars in for once!

"Can I be used to help others find truth when I'm scared I'll find proof that its a lie?" --Nickel Creek, Why Should The Fire Die?

"Of all letters, the love letter should be the most carefully prepared. Among the written missives, they are the most thoroughly read and re-read, the longest preserved, and the most likely to be regretted in the afterlife." --Professor Thomas E. Hill, The Essential Handbook of Visctorian Etiquette

"Who makes the waters of my sorrow part and leads the gladness into my heart...its You." --Jaci Velasquez

"Men of sense don't want silly wives." --Mr. Nightly, Emma

"Winter must be cold for those who have no warm memories--we've already missed the Spring!" --Terry McKay, An Affair to Remember

"I heartily believe in equality of rights as between man and woman, but also in full and emphatic recognition of the fact that normally there cannot be identity of function. Indeed, there must normally be complete dissimilarity of function between them, and the effort to ignore this patent fact is silly." --Teddy Roosevelt

"They've eaten the baby!" --Nanny Wetstone, Nanny McPhee

"I did knock." --Nanny McPhee, Nanny McPhee

"The term is over: the holidays have begun. The dream is ended: this is the morning." --Aslan, The Last Battle

"All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page; now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story, which no one on earth has read; which goes on forever; in which every chapter is better than the one before." --C.S. Lewis, The Last Battle

"The Autumn can color me gold and the Winter can dress me in snow but its You I see, the timeless part of me. In the Springtime I'm young once again in the Summer I dance on the wind but its You I see, the timeless part of me." --Levi Kreis, Timeless

"BIG Z, little z, what begins with Z? I am a Zizzer Zazzer Zuz as you can plainly see!" --Dr. Seuss

"Its hard to stop a soprano--or was that a train?" --Gerald Rutgers

Wednesday, October 11, 2006

Thoughts of today

Whatcom would be ever-so much more inspiring if it had a more dignified presence. The look of old buildings, the smell of old books, the sound of old, echoing halls would all roll themselves up and read themselves to my senses like a poem to the heart of a romantic schoolgirl.

I need Christ every minute.

The spring of work, of accomplishment feeds the stream of my joy. Now, more than ever, I realize that man was indeed created for the dignity of God-glorifying labor, and thus the joy of it all.

Bus drivers are often very nice dears.

The sleepy-eyed child of Summer seems to be struggling obstinately for wakefulness. It had a particularly lucid moment today. Blessed sunshine did indeed warm our bones, toes, and everything in between.

My brother shouldn't spend his hard-earned money so recklessly on me. I'm an accomplished consumer.

Sunday, October 08, 2006

The hawker

"I want to show you something," she said in a conspiratorial murmer, her eyes bright with the mischief we were foolish enough not to notice. A moment before we had been weaving our way warily through the crowds of shoppers in our very own Bellis Fair. What caused us to turn aside to sample her wares, you may wonder? Simply the pleasing sight of a smiling young woman innocently offering a dab of hand lotion to anyone who would accept its soothing smoothness. With an answering smile of acceptance, the dispensation of a small pat of lotion, and the ensuing delighted relief of weather-worn hands, we had been ensnared.

"I want to show you something," she said. Her voice was warm and delightfully tinted by the lilt of some unrecognizable eastern accent. In, in to the lare of the hawker we were drawn and there she began to weave her crafty spells upon we poor, unsuspecting gentle-folk.

"Have you ever been to Israel?" she asked, and looked enquiringly into first my mother's and then my eyes.

"No," said my mother

"No," said I.

And then it began. Perhaps we are more gullible than most people--more easily taken in. Or perhaps (this option being my preferred choice) she was more clever than most sales-creatures. I don't know which is more accurate, but I do know one concrete, undenyable fact: My mother was cajoled into paying $____.__ (amount witheld to protect privacy of persons involved) in exchange for the bane of every penny-pinchers life--stuff. The rest is a blurr in our befuddled memories. The next thing we knew, we were walking away from the hawker's hut with dazed expressions on our pitiable faces. All I could say was,

"She's brilliant!" and all my mother could say was,

"Haaaaaaah..." in a manner disturbingly like the oval-opening mouth of a fish out of water. Her eyes were glazing. I can only imagine that mine were over-bright with a strangly delirious tendency. We then began to mutter simultaniously something imcomprehensive about mud, the Dead Sea, and gypsies.

Thus was the wreck of our pocket-books. Oh that mortals may be spared such a fate!