And all will turn to silver glass...

I took Hansi outside today so he could do his doggy duty. It was warm, but not unpleasantly hot. So, while he snooted out a spot, I took a seat on the back step. And for the first time, in a long time, I just watched the land and listened to the whistles and buzzes in the air.

Four acres of land that is ours. Four acres that I really don't take the time to examine very often. When I do spend time with the flora and fauna I'm mowing, and I have my iPod in and I don't listen to anything but the loud hum of the riding mower and the blaring ear buds.

But the earth has a music of its own.

I started thinking about what this land means to my Dad, as part of his inheritance. And I wonder what will happen to it someday. My Aunt's husband always talks about windmills, which my dad has responded to with, "Over my dead body." He doesn't want anything to happen to this place that will "mar the landscape." He cherishes this good green earth. Why don't I think about it the same way?

I haven't worked these fields like he has--I spent my time in another farmer's corn, pulling tassels. Even when I was working I was singing, trying to make myself forget the heat and the thirst that followed me.

Sometimes I wish I could know what my dad thinks when he sees the fields that his father once worked so hard to maintain. I like to think that the fields are part of Grandpa Rob that were left behind and that when Dad walks around them (while another farmer works them now) he talks to his dad about the things he didn't get to say when he was alive. About how his daughter has the same gait as he did (apparently). About the joys of being married--and the hardships. About his son that would make his grandpa so proud. About the four grandchildren he never met. About how he works with computers now, but he did cling to his art for a long time.

You see, they were both artists, just of a different nature. Grandpa was an artist of the land: year after year he would work to mold the fields and livestock into a living painting, one that changed with the seasons. Dad, well, he would paint the landscape, but he was also a sculptor, he too moved the clay into a piece of art.

I think my Oma works her gardens and the yard to so much because she wants to feel close to him, too. She protects the farm, she's wrapped her entire being around its upkeep. When she is outside in this Nebraska sun, I think she imagines my Grandpa coming home from the fields and giving her a dusty hug. I wish I could witness this love.

So tonight, I sat on the back step and breathed deep the air that my Grandpa must have loved so dearly. I wondered what it will be like someday when I bring kids back to visit my parents. And I thought of where I will be in a little over a year. Will I still be breathing in the Nebraska air, or will I be in Iowa City surrounded by suburbs?

I pray that I will never forget the whistling, buzzing, and humming of this place. That I would not forget the beauty of the grass that fights against the weeds every year. The perfect rows of the cornfields. How could this land still suffer Adam's curse? If this is the curse, this land of plenty, then I cannot imagine what it was like in the Garden.

"In a dry and thirsty land, Lord you are the rain." [Casting Crowns]

Like butter scraped over too much bread...

What am I doing tonight?

On the floor, on my stomach, typing away at Morning Star -- there's an engagement! I'm excited that such an emotional scene last night could evolve into something so expected, but not at that moment. It's all about timing. I'm sipping coffee, writing, and yes, half watching Magnum PI.

And you know what? I have a headache. Normally I'm pretty decent at multitasking, but I'm not tonight. My brain isn't keeping up with what I want to be doing. Part of that is from lack of sleep--I was up rather late last night, writing. The night is still young though, and so I'm looking for ways to keep myself awake. (Hence the decaf coffee. I know, it's decaf, but it's hot.)

I started a new workout program this week, and I'm really excited about it. But it's way more intense than what I had been doing, and so I'm a little sore in the shoulders. And I've been having chronic stomach pain every evening. (Just a general ickyness.)

Then there's the upcoming GRE. That's got me more than just a little stressed out. Last night, a friend reminded me that not all colleges care about this test. In fact, the school I'm most interested in said that it wasn't a requirement, but what recommended. Why am I taking it then? Hopefully I'll do well on it. I need to study. I mean, I really need to buckle down and study. There are so many other things that occupy my mind though... I know that while I'm testing I'll start thinking about Elves and Fantasy worlds... but I should study anyway, and put forth a strong effort.

I also didn't get a letter in the mail on time today. And that upsets me. When did I start slacking with putting letters in the mailbox? That's not even the worst of it, I have letters backed up waiting for responses from the end of June. I should do that. I really should, and I know I should. So why haven't I?

There are pictures that need to be taken. I need to get my Etsy account all squared away with product pictures. Maybe my cousin will be a bag model for me...I'll have to call her sometime soon.

And now I am indescribably thankful that I did not get a job this summer.

Nerd factor of the night: I'm drinking coffee from a Lord of the Rings mug...that I designed. It's pretty sweet, not going to lie.

"You don't even have to talk about what you're talking about. If you know what I mean." [Magnum PI]

You love me in my weakness...

So, I'm writing tonight--shoving another scene in where one didn't exist before. But the space was aching for something so of course I had to close my eyes for a bit while I was showering and think about what was needed.

What came out?

Self-doubt in my lead female.

A voice that has no body. (Two words, folks, not nobody but literally lacks a body. Or does it?)

Frustration.

The waking of a companion.

Strong arms.

Weeping.

An emotionally drained writer. But in a very good way.

You see, there was something building between these two characters--some tension that would need to be addressed at some point anyway.

Really what my lady-character is learning is that she is loved even in her weakness--even when she's a blubbering mess and doesn't have everything put together. Even when she thinks she's going crazy.

But don't we need some encouragement like that took some days?

It's been a while since I cried a good cry. Did you know that crying is healthy? It's good for your emotional state to alleviate some of that pressure. mmhmm. It's not for lack of reason that I haven't cried--it's for lack of strong arms. (Not that I don't think someone would step up if I needed....I just feel rather disconnected right now, and that's my own fault.)

Anyhow, this is basically me saying that I wish I was in my book and able to have a break down and my guy would just hold me until I stopped beating on his chest.... uh........ yeah. Don't misunderstand me, I really am content to just be single right now.

Oh boy. This is why I don't blog casually at 1:06 in the morning... Forgive me for how disjointed this is.

I was going to make an obvious connection and say that of course God is always there to hold me when I'm having a break down. But really, as I started going I realized that I just want a hug. And while God can give me metaphorical hugs, it's not quite the same as a physical friend hug. (And I think He can speak through friend-hugs.)

I should go to bed or go back to writing. Writing it is!

"I fall at Your feet and worship You with tears." [Danny Oertli]

You will find that the world has changed forever...

There is something about the way a poet speaks to another poet. Something about the way a writer can nod and hum to the other writer. There is an understanding that passes between the kindred spirit.

These are our homegrown words. We protect them--we would defend against an army of critics for them. Because they are the pieces of our souls that we don't just let any conversation see.

These are the things that world would scoff at if we said them in the day-to-day. So we hide them. Feed them, nourish them with the scraps we save back. And they grow in secret. We went to show them off because, oh, they grow up so beautifully.

So when you meet another and you can tell in the way they save back words and phrases and ideas. You can tell by the way they live their quiet existence observing, borrowing from the "real" world. But you can see it in their eyes that they aren't full-time residence of the world we call "real." No, their mind is in a world far realer, far fairer to them.

And you may say, "Hello." But what you mean is, "I have a secret, too." Sometimes the trust develops so quickly you're not sure where it began, but you know in your heart, This person understand who I am, who I want to be.


There's something in the way a poet can talk to another poet. Sometimes without words because poetry runs deeper than the words themselves. But even in the silence you understand the struggle of home-grown words.

"I don't speak often cause I don't speak well. Every song I write has a story to tell." [Ginny Owens]

Home sweet home...

Some things that I learned while house sitting:

1. Light bulbs burn out at the most unlikely time. Don't let it throw you off, even if they are unusual sizes.

2. Eventually, toilet bowl seats break. It has nothing to do with you--it just happens. And if you freak out enough and have enough nightmares you're bound to find out that the owner of said toilet broke her gramma's a week earlier. You'll feel better.

3. Cats are strange creatures. They're adorable, but they're strange. Don't let their cute appearance fool you--they play dirty. I've never had so many scratches.

4. Neighbor ladies and lovely, make a point to meet them before the last day of house sitting.

5. If you live in the country and house sit in town over the Fourth of July, don't be alarmed if it sounds like a war just erupted on the front lawn--it's apparently very normal.

6. If a cat is hungry enough in the morning and you're still sleeping he will lick and bite your elbow. And then you're arm. And he'll try to get to your face, but if you're lucky his whiskers will wake you up.

7. Some cats like helping you make the bed.

8. Some cats can open doors--beware.

9. You may think your barky dog is annoying, but you'll miss his cuddling.

10. People in town mow their lawn in columns, they don't go around in circles like you do on a four acre lot. Don't be scared of breaking your pattern.

11. People will come and pray over your house when you're not there, and they'll leave you a little flier telling you that they're praying. It's a nice gesture, but also kind of creepy.

12. The guy that checks the meter will knock on your door at an ungodly hour. He's just doing his job, be nice and try not to look like the living dead.

13. The garbage guy makes a lot of noise, and actually picks up early in the morning--it's not just a myth!

14. It's nice managing your own home. The day-to-day chores are actually enjoyable if you turn the music on loud enough. It's also easier with just one person to care for.

15. Don't forget about the plant. You will kill it in three weeks. You will turn out to be your mother's daughter. You will regret this gene.

16. Thunderstorms are scarier when you only have the cats and no weather alarms (no matter how much you loath that weather alarm, you do feel saver with it).

17. Reading seems to be more difficult to focus on while staying in another person's house...mostly because you can't figure out how to make the tea because you don't know where anything is.

18. Falling asleep on the couch with TVLand playing is incredibly easy. And waking up to "The Nanny" can be jarring.

19. It's harder living in two places in one town than two places across the state from one another.

20. Sing in the shower as loud as you want. There is no one for you to disturb.

"This is home, now I'm finally where I belong."