A Dog, a Rope, Some Kids, and What They Did

This week for Declamation, I had to write a cautionary tale with a moral. Here it is.

A Dog, a Rope, Some Kids, and What They Did

Once upon a time, a grandmother and her spastic mutt lived across the street from five of her grandchildren, named Lindsey, Kendrick, Kathleen, Maggie, and Seamus. The oldest was about fifteen, and the youngest was two. This parallels my life in a very suspicious way, but I’m sure there’s no connection. Anyway, the older three were sometimes asked to walk said mutt, but these ‘walks’ were more like all-out running, because the dog would tear down the street at top speed once the leash was clipped. These children were inventive, however, and realized that there had to be a better way to walk the dog that didn’t involve getting their arms pulled out of their sockets. So, they discovered that, by using a long rope for a leash and putting on their rollerblades, they could get a pretty fun ride around the block and wear the dog out at the same time. They had this down to an art.

One day, their mother left to do errands, and Grandma called and asked if they could take Lil’ Hon for a run (nobody bothered calling it a walk anymore; everyone knew there was no such thing with that dog). Lindsey said they could, but only if Grandma didn’t mind watching Maggie. She didn’t have rollerblades, and couldn’t be left alone. But what to do about Seamus? Lindsey knew he’d be way too much for Grandma to handle, but they couldn’t just lock him in the house, either. They decided to bring Seamus along in his stroller, and Kathleen was told to push him around the block and keep up with the other two. Seriously, whom else would they give that job to? She was the youngest of the older kids, and therefore not as entitled to fun things like getting pulled around by the dog. But I digress. It soon became apparent that Kathleen could not keep up with them, so Lindsey had a brilliant idea, as usual. She and Kendrick stopped the dog, and he held her down, while Lindsey attached the lead to the foot rest of the stroller. That way, the dog could pull the stroller and the other three could skate and keep up. And Seamus was buckled in anyway, so what could possibly happen? Well, Lil’ Hon bolted, and the stroller shot down the road, bumping and careening, which actually made them more amused than alarmed. The dog got a head start because they were laughing too hard to skate, but once the front wheels of the stroller bounced up and the entire thing tipped back and flew down the street on the back wheels, they realized this wasn’t such a good idea after all. They caught up just in time; Lil’ Hon ran into a neighbor’s yard and up a small hill, which made the rope go slack. The stroller slowly tipped backwards, and Lindsey dove and caught it just before it hit the ground. Kendrick tackled Lil’ Hon and untied her from the stroller. Everyone started laughing again, except for Seamus. Their pale-faced brother was wide-eyed and gawking the entire time, too scared to cry. Kendrick took charge of the dog for the home stretch, and Lindsey pushed the stroller, which was very bent and wobbly, hardly functional at this point. Their mother was home by now, and rapidly put the pieces together. She was accustomed to deducing the most ludicrous answer possible and being right. Sherlock Holmes had nothing compared to her. Needless to say, she was most displeased with this event, and alternately lectured the culprits and comforted Seamus, who had found his voice by this time.

So the moral of the story is: Never attach hyper dogs to baby strollers, especially when there’s actually a passenger.

"I Love this Crazy, Tragic, sometimes almost Magic, Awful, Beautiful Life

That song line sums up the past few weeks pretty well. It has been crazy, slightly tragic as far as grades are concerned, almost magical, awful sometimes, and always beautiful.

It's never enjoyable to come face to face with failure. Again. I don't know why, but Natural History (Biology) just will not stay in my head. It all makes sense on paper, in lecture, while talking and studying, but take it all away and give me a test and I fail. Royally. This is the second term, and the second time I've failed a midterm for this class. But, as frustrating as it is, it's not the end of the world. I remember when I had a terrible time with Algebra II in highschool, and, after a similar experience, the lady that taught me said, "Well, thankfully your salvation does NOT depend on your Algebra grade!" Amen. It doesn't even depend on my Natural History grade. This term is better than last. Last term, I also failed the Logic midterm. This time, I aced it. There's always a silver lining, and His mercies are new every morning.

On Friday, we had our first snow. Not a whole lot, but enough to make it beautiful. That night, NSA had a volleyball game, and the Sophomores were the worst class. We really were not with the program. We had fun, though, and we had something none of the other classes had: Our personal bugler to (loudly!) proclaim a goal on our part. I don't know who brought the bugle, but a spectator absconded with it and put it to good use. The funniest part to me was that he even knew how to play it. Who learns to play the bugle anymore? Apparently Jonathan. About thirty of us went to Arby's afterward to re-fuel and enjoy each others' company. (What a great segue into my next ramble!)

Today was the Sabbath, and that makes up for anything that happens during the week. Sunday is my favorite day of the week. I love getting up, going to church, worshiping, confessing my sin and being reminded that Christ paid for it all, eating the bread, drinking the wine, feasting and fellowshipping. Since my Moscow Family is scattering to the four winds for Thanksgiving, we had a pre-Thanksgiving Thanksgiving today. It was fantastic. I'm still stuffed, and probably won't even have a snack before bed. A few family friends came too, to fill out the table. As always, the fine china and silverware came out, cloth napkins, the works. It's the Sabbath; it's a feast. "This is the day that the LORD has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it!"

It's amazing how food smooths the way for fellowship. We're relational creatures, and food is one of the best catalysts for fostering the atmosphere of fellowship. Shared food always tastes better. I think about Mr. Scrooge and his "melancholy meal," or his lonely, tasteless dish of gruel in his apartment. Even Scrooge might have loosened up a bit around good food, if he'd taken a chance and gone to Fred's Christmas dinner years earlier. Is it any wonder that we are told to fellowship as we celebrate the Lord's Supper? We're commanded to "recognize the body of the Lord." What does that mean? His broken body symbolized by the broken bread? Absolutely. And yet, the "body of the Lord" is also His Church, the people around us in the pews. If we zoom in on the bread and forget His body, we sin. Likewise, if we focus on His body and forget the meaning of the bread, we sin. I love the concerted effort of the community here to recognize the broken body of Christ, and His body at large. At Trinity, before Communion we pass the peace, which is about five or ten minutes of hugging, kissing, hand shaking, body squashing greetings in the name of the Lord. We recognize the body, then sit down and recognize the body before eating it. Then, after the service, many, many folks have Sabbath Feasts, inviting family and friends to celebrate the day of rest. It's hard to keep up with people; our lives are so busy. But Sunday is for resting, for praising God for His faithfulness, and, second to going to church, what better way to do that than by eating together, recognizing the body of the Lord? I have come to love feasting on the Sabbath, and it is definitely a celebration I want to carry into my own home. Food is one of the best body builders.

To Whom Much is Given

Wednesday mornings are Bible Study mornings at NSA. It's right between Latin and Natural History (Biology), so I never have an excuse for not attending. This morning, Dr. Wilson spoke on wisdom vs. knowledge, humility, and edifying others, beginning with James 3:13,
"Who is a wise man and endued with knowledge among you? let him shew out of a good conversation his works with meekness of wisdom."

He tied this in to 1st Corinthians 8:1,
"Knowledge puffeth up, but charity edifieth."

Also Ephesians 4:29,
"Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but that which is good to the use of edifying, that it may minister grace unto the hearers."

Dr. Wilson pointed out that people can be uneducated and wise, or extremely intelligent and foolish. He warned us against becoming arrogant because of our education. An education brings knowledge (a wonderful thing), but, if we aren't careful, knowledge can puff us up. I'd known all of this before, but today it felt like a punch in the gut. I could think back to specific instances just this week where I'd been arrogant in my mind (at the least), where I hadn't been loving and edifying when I should have been, and was anything but humble. I chewed on it for a few minutes, then put it away and got out the notebook for class.

Later though, it all came back, and I became annoyed with God. I said,
"Lord, you've been pointing out all of these sins, and I'm trying to deal with them here. You've got me working on patience, contentment, loving others, and all this other stuff, and now You're adding more! Can't You let me deal with them one at a time?" I heard a displeased voice say, "You know the answer to that." At this point, I was frustrated and angry. "Lord, I can't!" That stopped me up short. I can't. That's exactly what He has said from the beginning. I can't do it. I sat stupefied for a few seconds, digesting the news. I'd been striving in my own feeble strength, and was surprised at my constant failure. I knew all of the right things, and instead of gratefully accepting more knowledge with the realization of how little I know, I let it puff me up. I'd been thanking God that I wasn't as ignorant as some (a good thing to be thankful for), and He finally dropped a mirror in front of me to reveal the Pharisee. To whom much is given, much shall be required. And yet, "I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me." God is ever mindful of my frame, and will never demand of me that which I cannot give. Christ has broken the power of reigning sin. "For sin shall not have dominion over you: for ye are not under the law, but under grace." I have the choice not to sin, because of the blood of Christ. I just need to be reminded constantly that I'm covered in Jesus' blood and righteousness, and my bloody rags have been cast away. To whom much is given, much shall be required.

"From whence come wars and fightings among you? come they not hence, even of your lusts that war in your members? Ye lust, and have not: ye kill, and desire to have, and cannot obtain: ye fight and war, yet ye have not, because ye ask not. Ye ask, and receive not, because ye ask amiss, that ye may consume it upon your lusts. Ye adulterers and adulteresses, know ye not that the friendship of the world is enmity with God? whosoever therefore will be a friend of the world is the enemy of God. Do ye think that the scripture saith in vain, The spirit that dwelleth in us lusteth to envy?
But he giveth more grace. Wherefore he saith, God resisteth the proud, but giveth grace unto the humble. Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Draw nigh to God, and he will draw nigh to you. Cleanse your hands, ye sinners; and purify your hearts, ye double minded. Be afflicted, and mourn, and weep: let your laughter be turned to mourning, and your joy to heaviness. Humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord, and he shall lift you up." ~James 4:1-10

Thrifty Purchases

As promised, here are my purchases from last weekend's shopping 'spree.' I think I spent about $25.00 total.


Calvin Kline slacks: $2.00, Christopher & Banks blouse: $1.79



Out of the Blue denim skirt: $5.00



George dress: $8.00 (knee-length; I couldn't get a good angle.)



Jonathan Martin dress: $5.00 (such a steal!)


And the pictures Sara has been waiting for:

BP. 4" heels: $1.50



They're actually very fun to wear, so long as it's not all day every day. Several girls commented on my shoes and nails matching. Claire, who is 1/2" taller than me, was teasingly irritated that I was several inches taller than her that day. I never realized before just how tall some of the boys in my class are; in those shoes I am 6'3", and still some of the boys were taller. I wasn't trying to be taller than everyone, but it made me realize just how tall 6'4", 6'5", etc. really are.

Oktoberfest!

This afternoon, Mrs. Frazier, Ashley, and I were invited to the Courtneys' to celebrate Reformation Sunday. What better way than feasting on German food? I didn't think to bring my camera, unfortunately, so I can't make you hungry that way. Everyone brought something to share, and we had Brats and sauerkraut, lots of potato dishes, salads heavily dressed in vinegar, ladkes, zwiebelkuchen (my contribution), Black Forest Cake (I missed that one), plum tarts, spiced cake, you name it; the bar was also well stocked in the beer/ale department.

Making the zwiebelkuchen (onion pie) was an experience. Two 9" pies call for six pounds of onions! I spent about forty-five minutes to an hour slicing them, then had three pans on the stove to stir at once. It was quite the adventure. Ashley made the pie crusts for me, since dopey me didn't think to make them before the filling. It's probably better that way, though, since I've actually never made a pie crust all by myself. That's on the to-do list for Christmas Break.

The order of events was mingle, stuff yourself and mingle, mingle, go back for seconds and mingle, mingle, eat dessert and mingle, sing, mingle, mingle and nibble on left overs, mingle, mingle, and eventually leave (while mingling). While we sang, I was asked to play the piano, which I happily did, and was annoyed with myself because I was having an off day. My fingers weren't cooperating as readily as they usually do, so I felt badly. But those days happen, and I did my best. I guess it was OK, though, since I wasn't booed off the piano amid handfuls of sauerkraut. But everyone had a wonderful afternoon, and I have an entire zwiebelkuchen sitting in the freezer, and Mrs. Frazier has some of her spice cake and salad left. Right now, the order of business is lying low and relaxing!

A Descriptive Sketch

This week for Declamation (AKA Speech), we had impromptu speaking and impromptu selection. I didn't know if Dr. Stokes would assign a topic on the spot, or say 'Talk about whatever you want,' so, in preparation, I wrote a description of my grandmother's old house. This is the finished product.

“Grandma’s House.” Those words usually bring to mind all sorts of images and smells, like cookies in the oven, bright, cheery rooms, a warm cat in front of a crackling fire. Not for me. Honestly, my grandmother’s house always gave me the creeps. I was never comfortable alone, except for in her bedroom. The old beach cottage was falling apart, and had all the associated signs. Because the roof leaked and the basement always flooded because of a two foot hole in a bearing wall, “Musty” was the house’s perfume of choice. Lighting was poor at night, and dirt perpetually appeared, keeping me employed. Dozens of carved statues from Indonesia studded the huge shelves, nooks and crannies, and added to the eerie atmosphere; men farming, women posing, animals and plants, gods and demons, all somehow reminiscent of the White Witch’s castle.
Yet for all of the gloom, everywhere were talismans to ward it off. Sun catchers bathed Grandma’s bedroom in rainbows during the day, and some nights I played with the Tiny People, little figures of wood barely an inch tall with painted faces and clothes of colored floss. Grandma didn’t bake cookies anymore, but she always had a jar of them. The mantel was filled with family pictures, and many nights I sat under their protection on the footstool my grandfather had loved, watching “Wheel of Fortune” and “Jeopardy!” with Grandma. She sometimes knit, but my job was always to keep the incense burning. No amount of leaking could stink the place up once the sandalwood sticks were lit. And there were treasures, too. Few people have seen the ivory chess set from China, the silk shawl from Italy, or the jewels in the cases. But I have. The toys were kept in Dad’s old bedroom, but so were the boxes of extra carvings that didn’t have a place on the shelves, and a wooden pillar of fire kept watch over all. But if these leering faces were braved, the pilgrim was rewarded with a viewing of the brilliantly colored tapestry that was straight from a story in Arabian Nights. A beautiful princess in white rode with a powerful sheik who obviously just rescued her from the imposing palace, and his friends watched warily for followers as they raced through a night lit by millions of stars. After I was a little older, I found another treasure in that room. In a dark corner behind the portable suit closet hung a small picture of my mother, before she was able to be my mother. Untouched by the sun, she stayed there, a beautiful girl of eighteen, laughing at the darkness around her. Somehow my father had forgotten this picture, but recently he rescued her from the dungeon and carried her away to his palace.
But all of the dark and gloom is past now. A new day has dawned, and that house of decay no longer exists. After forty years in the desert, we packed Grandma up, and my uncle and aunt had the house demolished. Grandma used the steam shovel to take the first swing at the crooked kitchen window she’d hated for decades. Now a new house stands, and all three live there together, where no roof leaks, no basement is filled with mud, and darkness does not hold sway. Slowly, everything is reappearing, even the Indonesian demons; but I laugh at them now, since their hour, when darkness reigns, is past. All things have been made new.

From this, you may infer that I did not like my Grandma's house. In retrospect, I guess that's kind of true. I didn't really like the HOUSE. But because of who lived in that house, and all the hundreds of happy memories I have there, all these things sanctified it, so to speak. I think the only times I hated it was when I was there alone, because it was so still, and I guess I expected something to come to life and get me. I never knew these things about me until I started writing, though, and these are the impressions that flowed out.

A Lesson Learned the Hard Way

The grocery store was more empty than usual this evening, which always makes maneuvering easier. As I was nearly out of fruit, I browsed the produce section, and decided on a Honeydew, priced at $0.78/lb. Rather steep, but a Honeydew would be wonderful with yogurt in the morning, so I
"squeezed the universe into a ball/ To roll it toward some overwhelming question," that question being "Is it ripe?" I am not well versed in melon-selecting methods, but I do know that the stem area should depress under your thumb. I found one that did squish well, not too much, not too little, and put it in the cart.

I confidently placed it on the cutting board, sure it was ready for dissection. Another day or two might put it past its prime. The blade sliced through quietly and precisely, and behold! A 1/4" halo of pale green fading into depths of Winter white. My Honeydew was gasping its last, pleading groan, "Honey don't!" However, it was too late. I had "forced the moment to its crisis," and there was no turning back.

I sliced the melon, skinned it, and cut it into bite-sized chunks, enough to fill a one gallon bag. I tasted a few pieces along the way, wanting to be absolutely sure it was somewhat edible. It had a hint of sweetness, a foreshadowing of the honey-like sweetness and dew-kissed coolness it would have had. It is hard, a crunchy melon. I learned the hard way that there's more to ripeness than a stem that compresses. However, I learned another thing I could not have possibly learned had I been an expert melon picker: Unripe Honeydews are paradoxes. Pieces taken from the greenest sections were the hardest and most tasteless. Only the death-white heart was soft and delicious. The inside of the cup was clean, but the outside was deceptive. Beauty is only skin-deep. Life flows outward from the heart, and death gives birth to a life abundant.

Alien Sightings and Shed Diving

I'm experimenting in bite-sized posts, instead of mammoth ones. As Dr. Stokes said today in reference to a huge assignment, "How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time!" So here's the next bite.

Aliens have invaded Moscow. One day, Ashley and I saw one on the way home from school. Some man was walking through the residential area in a neon green spandex suit, and it was tight. VERY tight, and well on the thin side. We only saw the back, so I can only assume he was an alien, with big, black, glittering eyes on the face. I must say, however, I'm rather glad the back was all I saw. Earlier in the week, Mr. Frazier made some joke about sending a message to the aliens, telling them it was a prime time for invasion. I guess they came.

Yesterday, Mr. Frazier stayed home from work because he and Mrs. Frazier were cleaning out the shed. During the afternoon, I heard Mrs. Frazier come upstairs and knock on Ashley's door, and heard something about the 'stuff in the shed.' I figured they needed moving help, but was surprised when I wasn't called also. I couldn't imagine why they'd ask her to work but leave me to twiddle my thumbs. I heard the back door open, then Ashley's voice rang out with a teasing tone, "So you locked yourself out of the shed?" I knew it would be too good to miss. I went to the window, and watched as they tried to figure out how to help Ashley climb into a window two feet wide and one foot high, six feet off the ground with thick bushes up to the sill. I realized that that was why they didn't bother getting me; it's easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle. After a few minutes of debating, Ashley dove through head first, got past her waist while Mr. Frazier held her ankles, then she turned over, grabbed the top of the window, and stepped in. It was very well done, and after she was through I realized I should have had my camera. Oh well! It might become as timeless as dumpster diving.

Back in the Saddle

School's back in full swing, and the teachers seem to be making up for lost time. Ashley and I made it into the most advanced class, which means studying more poetry, some of the Aeneid, and other difficulties Mr. Griffith finds to throw at us. I really like the class dynamic; it's a great mixture of personalities. For today's class, we were assigned about four times the amount he'll normally assign in the future, so we had to read and comprehend 150 lines by ourselves, then, with a partner, go through the TEN worksheets he made, and discuss them in Latin entirely. It took us three and a half straight hours, from 7:30 to 11:00. I fell asleep so quickly last night. There were about five minutes between "Amen" and dreamland. It's good to be back to work, though. "Not all rigor is mortis." I'm planning on doing better this term than last; I got three solid Bs and squeaked by in Biology with an incredibly low C. I'm not happy about that, but I'm happy I passed. So the goal for this term is Dean's List, but that's been the goal all last year and this one, too, and it hasn't happened yet. Maybe this time around!

All Good Things Must Come to an End

Break is almost over, and I'm looking forward to getting back to work. I've done a bit of homework, but Latin vocab is still due for the test. Since it's an online quiz, I might get it out of the way tonight, but we'll see. Anyway, now for the events of the past few days.

Thursday: Woke up at 6:00, got at the rink at 6:45, just as they opened. Or didn't open. And didn't open. And didn't open. I waited an hour, and a few others waited for a time, too. Since Wednesday's mix-up had been our fault, this time I was really mad, and was already planning out my letter of complaint. I got home, looked up the rink's website so I could find the manager's name, and found that, when you scroll down a teeny-tiny bit on the front page, there was a big notice: Please note all calendar times become effective Nov. 1st! Here's our Oct. schedule. Drat. My fault again, so no letter of complaint. I was sort of disappointed; I think I really wanted to write one. But it wasn't a huge deal. I went to take care of Mary, and we sang tons of Christmas carols. After I came home, I made some meatloaf so the meat wouldn't go bad, and, in my zeal to avoid over-packing it, I under packed it, and it was rather crumbly. But, since I froze most of it, it all worked out. I grabbed handfuls of meat and packed it together in the bag, making unappetizing meat mounds. But they taste good, so who cares? Mrs. Frazier and I went to University of Idaho for a saxophone/piano concert. I've never been a huge fan of sax, probably because I've never really listened to one, but I enjoyed it. Some of the pieces, though, I did not appreciate, probably because I was never well-trained in cacophony. That night, while reading my Bible, I had a major reading goof. I read Psalm 84, which starts off, "How amiable are thy tabernacles, O LORD of hosts." Well, I read, "How abominable are thy tabernacles -- WHAT?" Oops.

Friday: Slept in! It felt so good. I did some homework, went to the U of I library for some research, and found an article for my paper that should prove very useful. I baked three batches of granola bars, studied more, and that night Mrs. Frazier, Ashley, and I watched the videos of Mrs. Frazier's wedding and her daughter's, since we got on the subject. I locked a few ideas away for future reference.

Saturday: Today was a good day. I slept in a little, did the rest of my biology homework for Monday, then went ice skating for real! Hilary called me and knew she had the schedule right, so we went for about two and a half hours. It felt so good! There was a little Asian girl who was really good. I was surprised at how clear the ice was. Hilary and I spent the time feeling like fools compared to this little girl, but towards the end, we brushed up our technique tolerably well. It was so warm, though! Though the rink has a ceiling, the back end is open to the air, and it was a little melty over there. I had no jacket and a sleeveless shirt, because it was too hot. Afterward, I dropped her off at home, and went to the Salvation Army to do some clothes shopping. I found a pair of Calvin Kline khakis for about $1.75, a nice blouse for $1.75, and a pair of shoes for $1.50, so for a little under $5, I have an entire outfit. Then I went to Walmart to find some pink nail polish to match the shoes (yes, I bought PINK, strappy shoes, with 4" heels. I walked around in the store, and decided I could buy them without dying.), and some isopropyl alcohol for my Lampe. Then I headed to the Goodwill, grabbing a Cherry Coke on the way, and did a little more shopping. I FINALLY found a denim skirt. Goodwill's prices are steeper than Salvation Army's, but for $19.05, I found a denim skirt, and two dresses. One is white with a dark green swirl print, and the other is white, black, and red, and NICE quality. The skirt and nicer dress were on sale for $5 each, and the green dress was about $8. I probably could have gotten a little more off of the nice dress, because right below the zipper was coming unstitched, but I forgot to mention it. I sewed it back, though, so it won't be a problem.

Well, on to laundry and Latin! Hey, this wasn't a million miles long this time. I might get good at this eventually.

Give Me a Break!

And boy, have I had quite the break! It's only Thursday, but I've been having so much fun packed into such a short time that I don't know which end is up. I'll try to make this something of a Reader's Digest post, but don't hold your breath.

Thursday: I my last final that afternoon, and went to a piano concert at the University of Idaho that night. It was given by two of the professors there, a husband and wife team, the Mauchley Duo. They were incredible. Fantastic technique, expression, everything. It was the best $3 I'd ever spent. They had two pianos at first for four-hand pieces, and, from where I sat, I was able to watch Mrs. M's hands more easily during the first part, but I switched sides during the Intermission so I could watch him, too. She was a nice lady, smiled when she stood, but was all business when she sat on the bench. Her husband, on the other hand, looked like a seventy-year-old Groucho Marx, and played like Chico would have if he'd been to the conservatory. He had Chico-like elements all throughout the night. He grinned, did lots of bouncing (sometimes an entire inch off the bench!), and every now and then, his left leg would kick out to the side. They played selections from Bach, Rachmaninoff, Bizet, Bolcom, Stravinsky, Piazzolla, and Brubeck. The best piece by far, though, was the one they played with two professors from Washington State University twenty minutes away, Jeff and Karen Savage, another husband and wife team. Mrs. Savage was a tall, slender Asian lady with beautiful expression, and Mr. Savage reminded me very much of Robert Ferrars from Emma Thompson's rendition of Sense and Sensibility. Each couple took a piano, and they played an arrangement by Camille Chevillard for eight hands of Wagner's Ride of the Walkyries. It was one of the most incredible things I've ever heard. Music really affects me, and I can get into it, but never before had anything moved me so much. I swear I almost passed out or had a heart attack. Three quarters through the piece, I suddenly realized I was on the edge of my seat, leaning forward with every muscle tense, face flushed and burning, eyes as wide as they go, rapid, shallow breathing, and my heart pounding so hard it probably nearly broke my sternum. I forced myself back into my seat and tried to breathe and relax, telling myself that if I passed out now, I'd miss everything else, too. It was unbelievable. I would love to learn a part, but I think it's probably out of my league. At the end of the night, their encore piece was "The Rag" from Brubeck's Points on Jazz. Maggie, I don't care if it takes us fifty years, we're learning that! So fun!

Friday: Because I didn't have any finals, this was technically my first day of break. That evening, I attended a baked potato party at Hilary's (my 'twin'), where all the guests brought a topping to share. I brought bacon. We had quite the spread by the time everyone was there. Some people brought weird stuff, just because they could. Mary came with the pickled cactus, which I unfortunately didn't get a chance to try, and Chris brought oats, because he could. Hilary loaned me a shirt that matched hers, only in different colors, and freaked out her little brother. Even her mom thought we look really similar. Anyway, we talked and laughed while eating, then played games. We played Apples to Apples, and Telephone Pictionary.
Telephone Pictionary is one of my favorite party games. Everyone has a sheet of paper and a pen, and everyone starts by writing a sentence at the top of their page. Then, the papers are passed to the next person, and now everyone has to draw a picture of whatever their new sentence says. Once you draw your picture, you fold the paper so the original sentence is hidden, pass it on, and now look at your new picture and write what you think the original sentence was. Then, you fold the picture back, pass it on, and look at your new sentence and draw a picture for it. You keep going until the pages are filled completely, and then see the progressive degeneration of the original idea. It's quite fun! Once 10:30 rolled around, though, we were kicked out of Hilary's house, so some of us took the party to Mary's house. She invited several girls to spend the night with her, so they were already headed in that direction. Some of the guys tagged along for a little while, too. So from 10:30-12:00, I was at Mary's with Hilary, Jordan, Tara, and Deanna, and Matt, Chris, Ethan, Daniel, and Nathan hung around for a bit. We plugged in iPods and listened to a random assortment of music, and had an impromptu 'dance party,' in which we all made fools of ourselves. I can't dance unless some guy holds my hands and pushes me around, so I was hopeless. I head-banged for about ten seconds and badly pulled a muscle in my neck, and felt really dorky and lame. We did the Macarena at one point, and I learned it a little differently, so I quickly got out of sync. We had fun, though. I left at Midnight, but it was really fun to hang out with them. Since they're all Freshmen, I hadn't had a chance to get to know any of them.

Saturday: After partying all night, you'd think I'd sleep in. Nope! Saturday a group from my class went to Bishop's Orchard in Washington, a few hours North of Moscow, to pick apples. We met at Chantelle's at 8:30, and it was cold! Her sprinklers had been on during the night, and so her sidewalk was covered in ice. As I walked up, I saw the ice, and thought, "Is that ice? No, that can't be ice. There isn't ice anywhere else. But it looks like--Ahh! Yup. It's ice." I slipped and fell smack on my backside.
Once we got to the orchard (or vineyard, as one guy said, because he didn't realize that different plots of fruit have different names), we got a community box for applesauce, apple muffins, and whatever other apple goodies we wanted to make afterward. You're allowed to eat as many apples as you want while picking. Unfortunately, there was a frost the night before, so the apples were literally frozen. I picked a Cortland, bit it, and froze my teeth. It thawed eventually, and was very good. So I got a few pounds, since all apples were $0.25/lb. The best part was making cider. They had old fashioned cider presses, and we all brought our own jugs, and payed $4/gal. It was so much fun, and so good! Legally, they had to instill in us a fear of all things unpasteurized, but some of us didn't pasteurize when we got home. There's still a half gallon left in the refrigerator, and I'm not dead yet.
After picking and pressing, we headed back to Chantelle's, where we baked everything. We also ordered pizzas from Pizza Perfection, a place that makes these HUGE pizzas. We had more than twenty people, so about $5 each bought us four pizzas that had 2.5 to 3 foot diameters, and no that is not an exaggeration. If you stretched them out, we had about 12' of pizza, and we ate it all, along with apple muffins, apple sauce, and apple cider. After I got home that afternoon, Ashley and I went to JoAnn Fabrics with Mrs. Frazier, then we girls went to dinner at Mary's house. Her host family was gone all weekend, which is why we were able to stay late at her house that night, and why she wanted company now. When we got there, we found her other dinner guests had canceled, so Ashley and I volunteered to run across the street and round up Chris and Daniel to help us eat. They gladly came, and they had Seth with them, so the six of us had a very nice dinner, and later, Tara, Kristy, and Kelly joined us for dessert.

Sunday: Church and RESTING. Ashley and I watched White Christmas that night. Love that movie!

Monday: Mrs. Frazier, Ashley, and I made our day trip to Coeur d'Alene, which was beautiful. It's a resort town, so it's well maintained, and also a little pricey. We stopped at the Olive Oil Company which has these great blends of oil with other flavors infused. For example, olive oil with blood oranges. Sampling is encouraged, and we tried lots of flavors, and wound up buying a bottle of a dipping oil/balsamic vinegar blend with the orange infusion. It's really nice!
Then we spent a few hours poking around in this enormous antique shop, and I found two of my favorite OLD Hardy Boys books for extremely reasonable prices (meaning I spend about $15 for both, when sometimes you can't find one for less than $20 if you're lucky). I also got an incredibly fantastic deal on another item. I was glancing over a shelf, when suddenly my eyes fell on a particular glass bottle with a familiar top. I stopped short and thought, "Oh my gosh! That's a Lampe Berger!" I looked at the price tag. The item description was "Cute scent bottle" and the price was $4.95. I couldn't believe it. New, the cheap ones go for $60. I said to myself, "These people have NO idea what this is! Or is there a catch?" I inspected it, and realized the snuffer cap was fused to the stone, probably because the previous owner had idiotically put the cap on before blowing out the flame. I was so mad. I twisted and turned, but couldn't get the top off. Since it was pointless, I put it back and walked away, all of two steps, before stopping again. I knew I'd always wonder if it was really stuck, or if I hadn't tried hard enough. I went back, picked it up again, and accidentally pushed the top of the cap, which was more than enough leverage to pop it off. I'd been straining and struggling and expending energy in the wrong direction, and it had never been stuck at all. But there was a problem. It had no wick and stone fixture. I put it back again, and pondered if such a thing could be replaced. I thought about it the rest of the time we were there, then decided to buy it anyway. I figured that if I were wrong and it could not be fixed, I'd lose about $5. If I was right, though, I'd have a fully functional Lampe Berger for $40 at the most, which is still less than $60. So I bought it, and we left.
For lunch, we went to a place called Fisherman's Market and Grill, located on Kathleen Avenue. It was delicious! I had the Mahi Mahi, Mrs. Frazier had the Halibut, and Ashley had the Salmon, and we all got different tartar sauces to share. The meals came with fries and a coleslaw salad, too. Although rather inexpensive (the Halibut meal was most expensive at $10), it was very good, and reasonably large portions. The atmosphere was casual, but clean and well kept. We enjoyed it very much. On the map, we noticed that Kathleen winds down the road, then turns into Margaret, so we had to get pictures, since Margaret and I were roommates last year. There wasn't a sign that had both names on it at once, but we got pictures of our signs.
After lunch, we walked around the floating boardwalk on the lake (Lake Coeur d'Alene is gigantic; it has a golf green on it, that we unfortunately didn't get to see), took lots of pictures, and tried not to freeze. We looked around in the Leather shop, went into the shop that sells huckleberry based products and bought a chocolate bar with huckleberry filling. That was tasty! Then we went into the All Things Irish shop, where I bought a set of thank you cards with a claddaugh on the front. While there, two reporters from the Couer d'Alene Press photographed and interviewed Ashley and me for a story on the economy. None of our comments made it into the article, but our picture did. It was very exciting! I was going to give you a link, but their website doesn't let you look into their archives unless you pay, and even then, you don't get pictures, so you'll just have to trust me. It was disconcerting at first to be photographed, since I was looking at the bookmarks, hoping they'd have a Doolan one for once, and heard a camera noise, and saw a man standing three feet away with a huge camera pointed at my face. I think I must have given him some kind of "ExCUSE me?" look, because he told me who he was and what he was doing in pretty short order. After we left that store, we saw some kind of scarecrow display across the street, made by a bunch of kids for some project, so we looked at them, then hit the road.
Once home, I found a message from Hilary asking me to spend the night at her house, and to be there in a few hours, since she had orchestra practice. So while I waited, I looked up the information on Lampe Berger, and found I could indeed order a wick and stone for anywhere from $3-$15, depending on the company I choose. I also found a recipe to make your own scent, which they don't recommend, since it supposedly ruins the stone. The lady with the recipe said she buys in bulk from the $3 suppliers, makes her oil for considerably less, and maybe goes through stones a little faster, but not significantly. So I'll think about that. But I also went to Lampe Berger's main site, looked up the model I bought, and found that, for $4.95, I got a lamp whose suggested retail is $110.00. It's criminal! But I'm not guilty. In fact, I view it as God giving me a nice little gift, and I'm very grateful. Here's a picture of mine, Athéna, only mine has a gold top: http://www.lampeberger.us/the-products/lamp/1-the-must-have-collection/athena-black,3243
After doing my research, I went to Hilary's, after grabbing some cookies to share. When I arrived, Kelly and Kristy were already there, and Claire and Deanna were right behind me. We stayed up for a long time talking about medicine, the medical field, and things like that with Mrs. M, while eating brownies and cookies, and Hilary had me make a fire, since she says she's no good at it. So I was appointed pyro for the night, and it was my job to keep it going all night, since we were sleeping in the basement. So after we went downstairs, we talked, drank hot chocolate, watched figure skating clips, since we all wanted to go soon, and had a great time. I managed to keep the fire lit all night, waking up when my brain said, "Hey, it's not popping anymore!" and didn't burn the house down. Burnt my hand a little, though. Once I had to use the Aim Flame to start some kindling again, and thought that maybe I shouldn't put it back on the wooden mantle, in case it was hot. A good thought. Thought promptly stopped at that point, and I grabbed the end of the barrel to test for heat. Thought resumed in the form of, "Golly you're stupid at 3:00 AM!" As you may infer, the answer was yes, it was hot.

Tuesday: We dozed until the dog came down. He's a year-old chocolate lab named Kai, and his preferred method of waking people seems to be finding those who hate dog kisses and licking their faces. There were successive squeals and yells as he made the rounds. Hilary slept through it all. We locked Kai in the spare bedroom while we recovered, and, instead of howling like we expected, he just sat there. He sprang for the door when we opened it to check on him. We let him out after we were all ready to deal with him. We had pancakes, eggs, bacon, and sausage for breakfast, and it was very good. We cleaned up everything, packed up, and started hitting the road, since we all had stuff to do. I went to take care of Mary, and we played piano and sang a bunch, then I went back home, and Ashley, Mrs. Frazier, and I watched Fievel Goes West. I forgot how much I love that movie! We all laughed so hard, and, since I was knitting at the same time, I almost gave new meaning to the term 'stitches in my side.' Over the Summer, I saw it in CVS for a cheap price, along with its prequel, and some dopey 'mature' part of me said it was fun for little kids, or something dumb like that. But when it was actually in the movie cabinet, within reach, the true maturity returned and I was "old enough again for fairytales." I'd watch it again right now.

Wednesday: I went to the ice rink at 6:45 AM for an open skate session. Claire and Deanna were already there, and we waited for someone to come open the doors. And waited. And waited. Hilary, Chris, and James showed up, and we waited. And waited. At 7:15, we decided to go to Bucer's Coffeeshop instead of standing out in the rain for something that wasn't going to happen. We were all disappointed, but had fun playing card games at Bucer's for two hours. Then I came back home, wrote a bunch of letters, took care of a few other random things, and relaxed. That night, we watched Love's Unending Legacy, the 5th in a series that Ashley introduced us to last year. We forgot that we'd ended with that one last year, so we had a good refresher, and the next one should come through Netflix pretty soon. There are two more we have to see before we finish the series.

And that's all for now. I can't tell you how today went, since it's not over yet, so I'll probably write more in a few days. It should take that long just to read this.

The Final Leg

Hello all!

Well, another week out, and ready or not, here come the finals. I've already taken my Biology written portion, and I think I got a good, square B on it, so I'm satisfied. Tomorrow afternoon, I'll have my oral for Biology. Unfortunately, we won't have nearly as many orals this year, since they're revamping the exam system. Hopefully orals will be worked in more later, but not right now. So I only had five exams instead of eight. Honestly, I'm disappointed. I love the orals. But they'll be back. And it's good for the Freshmen; there's a panic that comes over you when you realize you have seven or eight exams before you, and half of them involve talking to the teacher instead of hiding your head and writing something. It's intimidating, but the feeling you get after finishing all of them is fantastic. I think it's a good thing to be so overwhelmed and then realize you actually survived. Oh well.

This week was really nice, for being the week before finals. It passed rather uneventfully, but in a good way.

Tuesday, we went to school, passed two gas stations, compared the prices, and filled up at the second one on the way home, since it was cheaper. Then, when we passed the first one, I started laughing because, during the two and a half hours we were at school, they had significantly lowered their prices. Go figure. Once home, though, I did get to do something I'd never done before, and that was operate a table saw in a skirt. One of my classmates needed slats for her bed, and she knew the Fraziers have a scrap wood pile they're trying to get rid of, so she asked me to look for some slat-ish pieces on the right dimensions. I found the slat-ish part easily, but the board was long enough for five pieces. So, I measured them out, turned on the saw, and got to work. I hadn't even considered changing until I was half finished, and realized, "Oh, this probably looks silly. Oh well. Who's here to care?" No, I did not lose fingers, eyeballs, or any other assorted limbs. I didn't even get sawdust on my school clothes. And Dad, I have to say I like this table saw better than yours. It's got the blade set into a slot in the table, instead of on an arm that you pull down. So if you're ever looking for a new one, check this kind out. They're pretty cool. But that was my fun little project. I took them to choir and dropped them off at her house afterwards. The best part was the fact that they actually fit. I can measure AND cut correctly, which is always a good thing.

Thursday evening was loads of fun. Ashley and I went to Claire's so we could get our hour of Latin conversation in for Recitation Friday morning (we'd been taking turns doing dinner at our houses). This time, since it was the last time, she invited James and Dane, too, and man was that a fun dinner! I'm sure the people in the apartment below us thought we were crazy. I've discovered that I really do love Latin. And when you have to speak it for an hour as homework, the best way to do it is around the table. Food is one of the best catalysts for enjoyment. After dinner, we acted out the chapter, as per the syllabus, and discussed the poems. We've finally gotten into Latin poetry, so we're reading snippets of Catullus, Ovid, and Martial. It's hard going, but very worthwhile. We'll be doing more with it next term, so I'm excited for that.

Friday of week seven is NSA Spirit Day, which means you get to show up in a nice pair of jeans, so long as you're also sporting some school clothing, whether it's a T-shirt or a hoodie. It felt kind of weird to be at school in jeans, and seeing classmates in jeans, when we've all been in the 'Business' category. It was the first time all term I'd worn a pair of pants. I don't want to wear my dress slacks yet, because that's acknowledging that it's too cold for most of my skirts. I'll probably be forced into it pretty soon, though.

Today was a really nice day. Mrs. Frazier and I volunteered to help with set-up at church for this month, so today was our first day. We had to get the front table ready, get the wine poured into the cups for Communion, etc. I'm really glad to have a chance to help in some way; as a college student, I'm very much a part of the community here, but at the same time, I'm mostly on the receiving end of everything. This is a chance for me to give back to the people who have given so much to me, and I'm grateful for that. Today's sermon was fantastic, too. We're going through 1st Peter, and I think it will be a great series.

Today for lunch/dinner, we caught up on birthday celebrations. Ruth and James (daughter and son-in-law) came with the kiddos, Esther, Hannah, and Peter (and number four is on the way, too!), Josiah and Afton came up from the basement (son and daughter-in-law), and Emily and Toby came, too (Emily is Afton's sister, and Toby and Josiah are really good friends, so they're like family). Josiah, Afton, and Peter all had birthdays, and Ashley's is Tuesday, so we celebrated all of them today. We had salad and bread, followed by steak, baked potatoes, and steamed artichokes. I'd never had anything other than hearts from a can in whatever Mom was making, so this was quite a new experience, having something resembling a giant acorn dropped on my plate to eat. It was fantastic. We had garlic butter to dip it in, and oh boy! Good stuff. Dessert was individual chocolate-peanutbutter cheesecakes, and they were marvelous. This evening, we went over to Ruth and James' for a birthday party for Peter, since it was his first. I never really understood before why people had birthday parties for tiny kids, but I think I get it now. Sure, this was a family party and everybody lives less than ten minutes away, but still, everybody wants to give the cute baby something to make him smile. Everybody wants to make the baby laugh and coo, especially if they don't have any of their own, yet. So I think that's why people bother having parties for babies, not so much for the babies, but for the people that want to have an excuse to spoil the baby. So all of us met at their house again, with the addition of James' parents, little sisters, and grandmother. Esther and Hannah were being good older sisters and helping open the presents (gee, where have I seen that before?), and we weren't sure if Peter or the girls were happier with the new dinosaurs Toby brought. Peter knew what to do with them right off the bat. They were prancing around to growly sound effects (seen that before, too!). We had a great time, and had homemade ice cream to go with the cake. It was just as good as last week's ice cream. So between that and the cheesecake, I'm set for desserts for awhile.

Well, since a picture is worth a thousand words, I've uploaded 160 to FaceBook, which saves me about 16,000 words to try to describe this place. My camera is awesome (thanks Uncle Mike!), but even it can't fully capture the beauty of this place. The varying shades of the sky, the shadows of the clouds on the fields, even the quaking of the aspens doesn't come out quite right. But, you can see them there; I have a link that lets non-FaceBook users see them, too. So this is a little taste of the terrain. I don't have many town pictures yet, or anything from school, but it's a start. So please, enjoy the wild beauty of the North West (now I sound like a tour guide).

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=327286&id=618290187&l=7560e8c14d

Well, I should get to bed. Ashley and I have to go in tomorrow morning to listen to some of the Seniors present their theses, which is always interesting. Take care!

~Kathleen

The Seventh Inning Stretch

Hey everyone,

Once again, it's the end of the week, and already finals are looming. I'm entering week seven, and finals are week eight. Eek! I'm ready for Fall Break, though. I'm not planning on doing much of anything, which will be a nice change. Hopefully, Ashley (my roommate), Mrs. Frazier (host Mom), and I will all go up to Coeur d'Alene one day. I hear it's really beautiful, and all of us want to see it sometime. As there's no time like the present (when you're on break, that is), we plan to take advantage of it.

As far as illness goes, I consider myself officially cured from the swine flu and all other assorted sickness I contracted. This evening, I took my last antibiotic pill, and feel marvelous. God willing, I'll stay well!

Nothing much happened this week. The weather has been cooling, and there's a threat of snow Thursday morning. I'm dubious. We were given an additional week and a half to complete a paper, which caused great rejoicing. Tomorrow is a birthday for both Dr. Stokes and Robin (classmate), and Dr. Stokes will be twice Robin's age, which is amusing. We'll be having cupcakes to celebrate. Also, Hilary and I never had a chance to carry out our end of the bet, so we still have to do that sometime. She thinks Chris will just forget, and we'll get away with it. Again, I'm dubious. I ran out of postage stamps, which meant a trip to the Post Office, and nothing exciting actually happened, so that's a boring little tidbit for you. I'm also nearly out of stationery, which, for me, is a big deal, considering my addiction. So Mom, if stamps could appear in my stocking at Christmas, that would be lovely.

I got to take care of Mary twice this week, once on Thursday, as usual, and also on Saturday, so Stan and Trish could go to a wedding. We played piano, sang (or attempted, as I'm not a soloist, and she can't both play and sing), and watched Singing in the Rain. I love that movie! I'd only seen it once before, so it was fun to see all I'd forgotten. I missed the end, since Stan and Trish came back, but that just means I'll have to watch it again. Oh shucks!

Today after church, Ashely and I were invited to lunch by Ruth and James, the Fraziers' daughter and son-in-law (Mrs. Frazier is still recovering, so she didn't come). We had some absolutely fantastic shrimp scampi, and my seafood cravings were satisfied for the time. Dessert was homemade peach cobbler topped with homemade vanilla ice cream. Delicious! The ice cream was made with real vanilla beans, too, so it was very vanilla-y. Afterwards, Ashley and I picked up Claire, and we went home, waited for Jessie, and watched Emma Thompson's version of /Sense and Sensibility/. We wanted to see the new 2008 BBC version, but none of the movie stores had it, and the one person I know who has it already lent it out. Maybe that will happen over break, too. But we had a great time. Ashley didn't know the story at all, so introducing it to her was a lot of fun. I haven't had girl movie time for a little while, or a chance to really spend time with Jessie lately, so it was good to have her over.

This week's social highlight was a 90's party Saturday night. Everyone showed up in true 90's fashion (after raiding the Salvation Army). People came in these awful sweaters, oddly colored pants, Mohawks, plaid shirts unbuttoned to reveal the white undershirt, and all kinds of fashion abominations. I unearthed an extremely high-waisted pair of jeans, tucked in a T-shirt, and put my ponytail on the side of my head. That was quite a disorienting feeling! I got a crick in my neck, because I kept wanting to turn my head to get the ponytail behind me, but of course, it never actually got there. It also weighed my head down, and was just bizarre. I'm glad I wasn't fashion-conscious during the 90's, or I might have chronic neck pain now. One event was a white elephant exchange of vintage artifacts. Several VHS tapes appeared, mostly of the Mary Kate and Ashley variety. I think there was a GI Joe, a Barbie puzzle, and Fruit Stripe Gum in the mix. I got there late, so I didn't participate in that part, but only caught the tail end of it. Then, we all piled into the basement for snacks and the main event. Even the food was reminiscent of the 90's; Bugles, Pringles, Pretzels, lots of good, unhealthy things. I'd forgotten about Bugles, so that was a fun discovery. They don't taste nearly so good as I remembered. Oh well. Well, now comes confession time. The main event was, for me, a huge act of rebellion. (I'm sure you'll be shocked, Mom and Dad, so brace yourselves.) As college is supposed to be a time of liberation from all former authorities, I took this opportunity to throw off the iron yoke of my parents, and, for the first time ever, I watched Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Yes. Cowabunga. I know this will probably result in lots of coal in my stocking instead of stamps, but I'll just have to deal with the consequences of such actions. It was pretty cheezy. I don't feel like I missed out. In fact, I'm probably better off for not absorbing copious amounts of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. But you have to be rebellious in college, or you don't get the full experience, right? So I've filled my quota for the year.

Well, that's all that's coming to mind for this week, and it's bedtime, so take care and goodnight!

I'm Still Alive!

Hey all!

I'm still alive and kicking, now that the pigs were kicked out. No more swine flu, thank God! However, it's been replaced by a sinus infection and bronchitis. But, thanks to antibiotics, I'm almost over it. So there's the boring health update.
The weather has gotten a little cooler. I don't need both a fan and an open window to keep my room comfortable. I just use the window, and enjoy all the sounds of Summer's end. The breezes have been picking up, and fewer birds are in the area. The quail will be here soon, though. They are SO funny to watch! I miss the Fall colors, though. I'm looking out my window at the one tree in the backyard that changes before dropping its leaves. Right now, most of the leaves are outlined in russet. My favorite trees out here are the quaking aspen. They're tall, very slender, and absolutely covered in leaves the size of silver dollars. They're glossy green on the top, and a silvery gray underneath. They're called quaking aspen because, in the slightest breeze, the leaves start fluttering like mad, and, combined with the sunlight, they become beautiful masses of shivering, glittering greens and grays. Another interesting nature note, I saw a cougar recently. He was a little smaller than a full-grown golden retriever, tawny yellow, like a lion, and had a very long tail. He was actually in a neighborhood, stalking up a hill that was covered in straw-like grass. They're very curious, apparently, and also enjoy snacking on smaller cats. Out here, if Fluffy goes missing, you might not find him in the Pound. I think Fall is officially here; I just saw one leaf fall from that tree that's changing color.

School-wise, everything is going well. I've caught back up after being sick, and feel more confident about my classes. My Logic midterm was much easier than I'd expected, for which I was very grateful, and I took the quiz for Biology on the skeleton that I missed. I've always felt like I had a general grasp on the skeleton, thanks to Mom being in Radiology back when. So thanks to you, Mom, I did pretty well.
The main social event of this week was the Harvest Ball. A group at school called SRO (Students for the Relief of the Oppressed) hosted it as a fund raiser for people in third-world countries. Everyone had a great time! Attendance was down, due to illness, but we still had between one and two hundred come. Dress was semi-formal, though formal was not discouraged. The Grand March traditionally starts these events, and it is quite the march. It's different every time, but always involves lots of weaving, lines, walking, running, pulling, trying to keep up, slowing down, and lasts about a half an hour. It's great fun, but not for the faint of heart. I was fashionably late by ten minutes or so, so I missed the March. That was probably to my benefit, though, since I was still recovering from being ill. The Virginia Reel was next, followed by Posties Jig, Patty-cake Polka, the normal Polka, and lots of others I can't remember. The Electric Slide was pulled out, just to mix things up. The dances here are always a blast, and the gentlemen are very good about making sure every girl gets to dance, and then escorting her back to her seat. The decoration crew did themselves proud; a normal basketball court/gym was a ballroom, for all that. Lots of flowers, a chandelier that someone made for a wedding was hung, nice cloths on the tables (filled with goodies from several volunteers), and good lighting. We didn't have live music this time, but it didn't detract from the experience. Many of us danced barefooted, since we didn't have suitable shoes for the court floor, but for once, I didn't come out blistered. So it was a very lovely evening, and Cinderella slept very well that night.

One of the most amusing things about this week was my attempt to win a bet. One of the Freshmen girls, Hilary, looks and acts VERY much like me, and one of the Freshmen boys, Chris, kept mixing us up. I was Hilary for awhile. So, after the both of us talking one evening, a bet was contracted. I wasn't actually there for that part, but oh well. Hilary bet Chris that he couldn't keep us straight for a week, and if he lost, he'd have to give a dramatic recitation of "Little Jack Horner" in the Commons Room with at least five people in there. If he won, I'd recite, and she'd do her Gollum impression. We learned something important about boys from this experience: If you want them to remember something, turn it into a competition where humiliation is involved in losing. I never saw anybody get something right so fast. He was hopeless beforehand, but right when there was something riding on it, he came through. We tried all we could think of. One day, we both talked to him in the morning, then switched clothes, since we're the same size. We confused lots of our friends, but not him. Almost, but not quite. So at some point this week, we have a bet to ratify. Oh well. I'm determined not to be outwardly embarrassed, since he'd like that.

Anyway, that's been what's up! Hope y'all are staying healthy!

Memoirs of a Swine Flu Victim

Hello everyone!

I've been back in Idaho for a month now, and haven't actually told you I made it. Well I did, and have had three glorious weeks of school so far. We've spent our days and nights well, meaning our weekends were free for celebrating. I think we've had one major party every weekend so far. Most of them have been to welcome the Freshmen. I think they're going to be a good group. The last party we had was out of town a little ways where we played capture the flag on a farm. The game lasted for one to two hours, and then we all mobbed the campfire to roast hotdogs. It was good to catch up with everyone, see how their summers went, and find out what crazy things they did, and get to know the Freshmen, and find out how many siblings of theirs you already know. After eating, we sang for awhile, then somebody broke out an old guitar and passed it around. Lots of undiscovered talent came out that night. We had people who played, sang, did duets, and everyone loved it. Then a few of the more comedic guys took center stage and jokes and stories flew around. It almost seemed like a competition to see who could make the audience's ribs hurt more. Then we had a few poetry reciters, and we turned the evening into a right ol' talent show. After awhile, people started trickling away, but some of us hung around and talked until late at night. It's nights like those that make me realize that it's not just the amazing classroom experiences that make this school as wonderful as it is, but also the talks with friends, light hearted or serious, early in the day or around fires at 11:00. That's what really sets the mind ablaze, taking from class and using it outside of the doors of school. I realized then that if I could get paid to sit around with people and talk, argue, debate, reason, philosophize, I would take that job in a heartbeat. There's a kind of freedom in it, especially knowing that, should you still disagree in the end, you'll all walk away friends because of the deeper, more important, ties and connections. Although nothing particularly novel or brilliant was said, I think that night will be a cherished memory for the rest of my life. A moment made eternity.

But of course, partying isn't all we do. I'm taking Biology, Logic, Ancient History, and Latin, so there's plenty to keep me busy. Choir is volunteer, but I'm singing away, and then weekly speeches are also required. Since we have a limited time for speech, however, we rotate as to who presents. The first week, I was in the group of people who had to describe the super power they would like to have, along with its weaknesses. All known/popular powers were off limits. Last week, that group had to pick any famous dead person and describe having dinner with them.We had everyone from Galen to Constantine to Robin Hood to GK Chesterton show up. It was quite hilarious! Today's group is presenting poems they wrote. The assignment wasn't simply to write poems, though. There were strict guidelines given for style. The poems may be about anything, so long as they're written a la Dr. Seuss. So yes, lots of laughs expected.

And by now I'm sure you're thinking, "Well yes, this is all nice, but what about the SWINE FLU?" Fine. Yeah, I caught the swine flu at the beginning of the week, and Monday was the only day I made it to school. I was going to go today, but I wore myself out last night preparing homework for Latin Recitation this morning, and so I knew that going would tax me too much. So I'm missing everything today, including midterms and the cat dissection in Biology lab and the Dr. Seuss poems. Honestly, that's the part I'm most bummed about. But, as most of you are far-removed East Coasters, you're probably curious as to what swine flu is like, so I'll tell you. Lame. Miserable, but lame. It has successfully knocked me flat for a week, which is more than the normal flu, but, unlike the normal flu, I have not had to pay homage to the porcelain gods once. So it doesn't really feel like the flu. All the media hype about it is baloney. Washington State has made international news and laughs about it, since it's all confused misinterpretation of data, and although it's gone through probably a third to a half of my school by now, few people have been out this long. The media wants you to think that if you get the swine flu, you'd better get a coffin, too. It's funny to me to see how different people deal with it. Most of my friends make as much fun of it as they can, which has resulted in several great names, 'hamthrax' and 'aporkalypse' being my favorites. It does take its toll, though. One of my friends said she'd have to feel better in order to die. Another said, "On a scale of 1 to 10, I feel almost human." So yes, it's no fun, but compared to normal flu, it's better in some ways and worse in others. Next time you hear about swine flu, think of me and laugh, because it's nothing to get panicked over.

I'm trying to think of anything else I might have forgotten. I'll get the good fun of making up my midterms later, but I'm so thankful that the professors are so generous about this whole mess and that making them up is even an option. One was a take-home anyway, so I'll probably take care of that tomorrow. The weather continues to be beautiful in the 80's-90's, and without humidity that's quite pleasant. My window hasn't been shut for a week. Please pray for recovery for the sick, continued health for the rest, and that we all keep on top of our studies. I hope you all are doing well, and that life is good. I'd love to hear from you, so please write me back, or even good old fashioned letters. A giant lunch for the invalid just appeared, so I will go nibble now. Take care!