November 2011


There once was a young girl named lizzy
Who’s puppy was all in a tizzy
His nose ran away
His stomach would stray
And his fingers were constantly busy

Now lizzy, she grew and she grew
And her puppy grew with her two
But no matter the changes
Or trials or dangers
She never knew just what to do

About the dear pet who would freeze
Every time someone round him would sneeze
He was scared to get sick
And he thought that the trick
Was to hide behind poor lizzy’s knees

One day when dear puppy had hidden
Behind lizzy’s knees without reason
Lizzy said “that’s enough”
Took him by the scruff
And dragged him to Old Dr. Ridden

“Dr. Ridden!” said Lizzy, a-quaking
“I am tired of dear puppy’s aching”
Get ride of the pain,
The fear and the shame,
And remind puppy dear of his making!”

Dr. Ridden said, “Surely my dear.
It will cost you a bit though, I fear.
I’ll use all my tests
And I’ll try my best
But be prepared for worst, are we clear.” 

Lizzy pulled out a hand full of change,
And with that everything was arranged
For the cure to be had
The result, good or bad,
So puppy could be *“home on the range”

*Meaning back to his normal self

Dr. Ridden, asked questions and prodded
All the while dear puppy just nodded
Not sure what to say
Thinking this was mere play
And believing all soon would sorted



It started at first as a tear
Dr. Ridden said, “Well how about here?”
He poked in a spot
That made puppy wail
And freeze all up with the fear

“Oh my, well I see how this works,
My bringing this up causes jerks
In your eyes and your heart
Well now, there’s a start
I’ll cure you of all these bezerks.”

All this time, Lizzy sat quite wide-eyed
Her puppy, though scared, never cried.
But now here he was
Wailing loud, just because
Lizzy wanted to have him be tried

Now here’s where the story gets icky
Dear puppy was becoming quite sticky
With all of the tears
Built up through all the years
He had hidden so well all his sicky…….ness

Lizzy wanted to take it all back
But the damage had made the attack
On poor puppy’s brain
He’d ne’er be the same
She’d never get him back on track

She burst through the door of the test room
And snatched puppy dear from his dark gloom
And carried him home
Trying not to bemoan
Her decision to bring him to doom

From then on Lizzy kept Puppy close
So that no one could try to fix him
Resolution you ask?
What happened to rhyme?
They both don’t exist in real life





A poem

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Tuesday, November 22, 2011

A man (or woman) has not lived a full life until they have worked hard and worked well. There is a difference between the two. I know a few people who have the first one down to a T. They burry themselves in project after project. But how can you thoroughly enjoy your work when you are always thinking ahead to the next project? I’m still not entirely sure what working well looks like on a regular basis. I just know what it doesn’t look like. There are also various types of work. Working well entails working a little bit in each area. Physical, spiritual, intellectual, and emotional. These are the main areas I think. I have so many more thoughts on this, but I should probably get onto the rest of this little post. What sparked this? An hour of work in the yard simply because I felt like it. It was incredibly rewarding, and brought back so many wonderful memories. :)


I’m afraid I have to switch my tone just a bit in order to cover everything I want. Rather than discuss a single event in excessive detail I am going to report on a series of operations that have taken place. Warning: They might get a bit dull.

Operation: Flight

It's pretty gorgeous... <3
Was in the air for seven hours, three of which I slept through (since I had to wake up 4:00am to make my first flight). The other four were spent reading a Spinney lecture, looking at the window and day dreaming (only about 30 minutes), and finishing the book of Psalms. :) Landed in Salt Lake City with 30 minutes till the next flight was leaving. I had to run the entire length of the airport... Took 10 minutes. I was one of the last people to board, thank the Lord. Another blessing was that I was sitting in the front row so I didn’t have to awkwardly walk through several rows as various passengers starred up at me.

Operation: Cooking

In the last 48 hours I have made an amazing batch of brownies, Pumpkin Pull-Apart Monkey Bread, and the best grilled cheese sandwich thing I have ever had. I took a piece of French bread, placed a thing apple slice (circular not triangly) beneath slices avocado, which lay beneath pieces of freshly cooked bacon. Then I lay slices of amazing mozzarella on top and cooked it in our toaster oven (we don’t believe in microwaves ;) :)). Soooo good. There’s still lots to make, so this operation is a work in progress.

Operation: See friends

Pretty self-explanatory. So far I visited my high school and saw the musical they did (which was pretty fabulous). Almost cried after seeing Barnett start tearing up (I didn’t say your real name so you wouldn’t be embarrassed ;) <3). I sure have missed you kid. :) Saw all the church people, and spent a wonderful Sunday afternoon traipsing about the town with Brenna, and then spending some wonderful time with Dev. <3 :)

Operation: SURPRISE

Allllmost gave Dad a heart attack. =D (No one except people at school and my mom knew I was coming home. Best surprise ever). Also made him cry. Dad never cries, so it was pretty epic. :)

And now, I’m sitting at my old desk, writing on the computer I worked on my entire life (until sir mac came along and stole my heart). This morning I woke up, had devos for an hour, made breakfast, took Daniel to school around 8:35. Went to work out, worked in the garden, and am now happily munching away at a pear that I found under one of our pear trees when I was raking leaves. Also, my dog has been following me around since the morning, and was even so kind to hop up on my bed and help me memorize my verses (missing my dear Laruen <3). God is so good and so beyond beautiful.

I promise, the next post will be back to its delightfully excessive self. :)


A series of operations

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Monday, November 21, 2011

There are those who think that I'm strange
They would box me up and tell me to change
But you hold me close and softly say
That you wouldn't have me any other way 

In which a lullaby plays through and through my head

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Saturday, November 19, 2011

P.S. Yes I have deactivated my facebook. Why not just sign out? Good question. So glad you asked. The main thing I'm tired of is seeing that there are 500 pictures of me on facebook...... there's no reason for that. When I eventually go back, I am going to delete all the pictures and videos (after saving them on CD's), and use my facebook to shamelessly promote my music. :) That and keep in touch with all my friends overseas and across the country. :) ALSO if someone really wants to get ahold of me, they will.

AND I have also been playing christmas music shamelessly since October. :D So for all you people (you know who you are) who have told me that I'm crazy, I'm sorry but I like me some christmas music. :) I'm looking forward to trying eggnog for the first time. :)

In which I add one last thought. :)

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Wednesday, November 16, 2011


It was a surprisingly cool evening. The air sort of drifted through the darkness, swirling around streetlights and windows, trying to break in at every opportunity. Every time a door creaked open, the coolness was the first to slip quietly through the crack and fill the unsuspecting room. Though the night was not frigid, beneath the stillness there lay the slightest hint of chill that created the overall sensation that soon, she (the cold queen) would come in all her icy glory to sweep up unsuspecting passersby before they had time to fully escape into the inviting embrace of the warmth that sat just inside closed doors. What would the cold do with her victims? She would chill them till they were sure not a bone had been left untouched. But this cruel queen would be caged a bit longer, while her much sweeter sister filled the night with soft coolness.

Light emanates from the windows, softness playing at the pane, creeping along the cracks, not desperate to get out but curious about the people that pass by. A young girl slips into a warm black winter coat and tucks her thick scarf neatly behind the lapels. After quickly adjusting her loose bun, she lifts a black knitted beret over her head, and pins it snuggly in an attempt to keep her hair from falling completely apart. Her thick brown stockings keep her legs from freezing, as she patters softly out onto the landing. Down a quick flight of stairs, then it’s out into the cool evening, leaving behind the comfort of all that is warm and bright.

She hums a song nervously, and jingles the keys as she steps in-between rows of parked cars. She’s never been in favor of still nights.

Quietness and stillness are different. Quietness has a full feeling, while stillness has a sense of anxiety. Or perhaps it’s the other way around… Or more likely it implies to different scenarios. When snow falls the night is still, but in a soothing comforting sort of way. But snow makes even the fiercest of predicaments seem better. I would add another qualification, but I do believe I’ve just maxed out.

Finally locating the small vehicle, she quickly disappears inside, starts the engine, and is out of the parking lot in a dash.

Now if you’ll imagine with me, an indie song that no one has heard of played by some lonely-heart boy who no one will remember except “the boy who wrote that one song that was in that one movie.” Lights: Street lamps and cars whirr by and create soft patterns on our heroines car. Camera: She waits at a stoplight and leans her head against the window allowing her mind to drift over fantastical things. Action: She pulls into the parking lot and decides to park in front of the familiar coffee shop rather than park in the Giant parking lot (west coasters: Giant is like Albertson’s but smaller and not nearly as cool).

Stepping out of the car, she plunges her hands deep into her pockets, buries her chin further into her thick scarf, and quickly patters across the parking lot into the store. Humming a little ditty, she walks through the isles collecting the items she needs, tea for her throat, milk for her oatmeal, nutella for her room (and overall happiness). Her walk is not rushed, rather each moment is spent in deliberation, as she counts the tiles between isles, as she traces her fingers across brightly colored Christmas decorations that are already littering the “holiday” isle. Once she has everything she needs she meanders around and just so happens to walk past the flower stand.

She chews on her bottom lip as she stares at the brightly colored bouquets. Furrowing her brow, she glares in frustration at the tempting array. A sigh. The battle has been lost. If you can even call it that. Flowers must be bought. Her previous annoyance instantly turns to rapture as she leans down and smells each arrangement. In the end she decides to go with a bouquet that compliments both elements of fall (in the light and dark orange daisies that are prominent throughout) and winter (as evidenced by the white roses and white hydrangea that make up the rest of the bouquet). Content with her purchases, she drapes her brown book bag around her shoulder, takes her grocery bag in one hand, bouquet in the other and happily proceeds back into the night.

The rest of her evening is not terribly interesting. She went back to the car, carefully deposited all items, and went into the coffee shop for small talk and a drink (for her beloved roommate who had so gracious let her borrow the car). The warm smells of pumpkin, cinnamon and chai wafted though the air, as she smiled and talk to Brian as she waited for her drink.

Then it was back out the door, into the car (cue sappy film music), down the lighted street, into the parking lot, out of the car, and safely back in her room. Yes. It had been a  beautiful night. 

In which I have a lovely evening

One big grand piano, and I would be the happiest girl in the world. :)

In which I sigh

"In every season, love is for beginners."

"Christian love is not between two people who have it all together, but between two people who are willing to admit their brokenness before God and to each other."

in which I reword some wonderful quotes

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Tuesday, November 8, 2011


The first sensation she felt was the warmth that crept from her toes up through her and into her heart as she slowly woke up. She lifted her eyelids waiting for the light to pour in, but her tired eyes were met with only a soft grey light. She was buried under the comforter. Slowly she lifted her arms and pushed the blankets from her face looking up to the ceiling. The room was covered in a soft morning light. Unlike the usual, this light was blue and grey without a hint of yellow. It was not the dark of early morning, nor the brightness of the sun peeking in through the windows. Rather it was the soft still light that appeared briefly between the hours of 7:00 and 8:00. In a daze she shifted forward and crawled across the bed to check her phone.

7:00am

You’ve got to be kidding me. She groaned and crawled back, slipping back under the covers and the warmth that immediately embraced her. The other girls were still asleep, so she made sure not to make a sound. After ten minutes of starring at the ceiling, her eyes wandered, eager for a new subject. They drifted along the bright blue walls. Shifting her weight, she rolled onto her stomach, pushed the curly mop that was her hair our of her eyes and beheld the beautiful scene. She faced a large window that looked out onto the big back yard and the canal beyond. In the corner of the window was a small dock that jutted into the clear coldness. A boat rested on the bank beside the dock, waiting to used, reveling in the fun it had the night before. This was the scene that she let her eyes dance with until she finally fell asleep.

8:00am

Up again. Quietly she made her way around Liss and Brittany’s sleeping forms, grabbed her bible, and tiptoed downstairs. Still slightly dazed she drifted through the living in a dream state, finally floating into the small, but beautifully decorated kitchen. The cabinets, and counter tops were black, the wall a soft yellow, and a precious island made of wood that had been stained off white. On her other side was a small breakfast nook that contained a small table and three chairs. She slipped into the chair that faced the window, curled up and began reading her bible.

8:40am

To the floor and hallways to stretch and workout.

9:00am

Back to the nook to do homework, eat breakfast, and talk to Katelynn’s mom.

11:00am.

Finally everyone wakes up. 

In which my morning is lovely, and my day begins

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Saturday, November 5, 2011


Squeals of delight cut through the evening air, as a small boat was discovered in the backyard. “Let’s go out on the water,” seemed to fly from every mouth, until no one could distinguish their own voice from another. A flurry of movement as the boat was emptied of the leaves it had gathered during it’s period of neglect. It was lovingly brushed off and pushed into the water as the friends crowded around, anxious to start the adventure. The sun had long ago slipped into it’s dark bed, leaving the moon to temporarily watch over the earth. Finally, with the small boat out on the water, Alissa and I with great care slipped into the front of the boat. Mike, Katelynn, Brittany, and Jesse quickly followed as Liss and I clung to each other, for fear of tipping into the freezing darkness. A push. Another. Another. And a final one, and off they were into the watery mysteries. Two of them paddled out into the expanse. As I starred out over the water, my eyes dancing from lily pad to lily pad, my fingers dipping in and out of the passing water, causing ripples to embrace the side of the boat, my mind wandered far. I lifted my eyes to the glorious sky, as the stars reflected in my eyes, and the moon played tricks with the trees and the shadows that crept along the water. This was my Walden.



Nine friends squeezed into the dimly lit kitchen, as the warm smell of chocolate and soft sounds of simmering water drifted around them. They exchanged pleasantries, laughed softly, and sang quietly along as Jesse expertly danced his fingers across the strings of his guitar. The tall one sat against the wall of the small island, and smiled cheekily at the antics of the others. Another was crouched under a table, much to the amusement of those around him. Another girl sat perched beside Jesse, mug cupped gently in both hands as she sipped delicately at its contents as if each drop was an ounce of life, and should not be wasted. Lastly, I sat in my chair, let my head fall softly back, took in a breath, and let the energy, the stress, the thoughts, the desires, the life that I had lived during the last few days drip from my mind, sink into my soul, and float away as I was filled with a quiet peace. 



In which I'm finally free :)

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Friday, November 4, 2011