I've had a lot of thoughts tumbling around in my head these last few weeks, and they haven't settled into any kind of order. Normally I wait for something to settle into place before picking it up and putting out there for people (you people) to read, but this is just getting ridiculous. I promised to post more, and if I wait around for something to finally come together than this blog will die (a second death, I suppose). I don't really want that to happen, so I'm just going to start writing regardless of the confusing thoughts rolling around inside this fragile mind.
My family and I went to Colorado last weekend, and it was great to see the school my brother plans to attend and the apartment he may live in. The mountains left me in awe and slack-jawed. I've seen them before but I hadn't necessarily noticed the way the sky swooped low to kiss the frosty tips.
We spent some time walking around an outdoor mall/shopping area in Loveland one evening. I spent all too much time in the Barnes and Noble--the largest I had ever seen. It was like a piece of heaven for this new graduate, and proud holder of a B.A. in English. Drifting through the aisles filled with story after story of hope and loss and pain and love and want and anything you want, I felt the overwhelming feeling to just sit down and absorb the words. Stories have always held my love and my profound need for returned love--unfortunately books are incapable of reciprocating the feeling.
One of the courtyards of this shopping area housed sculptures of animals for children to play on. The statue that stood out to me was the frog. I've known the story of the princess and the frog for as long as I can remember.
Josef snapped a picture of my sitting on the broad-back of the frog, smiling. It's a running joke in the family, and this is not the first picture I have with a stone frog.
My first summer in my newly finished basement room was riddled with nights of little sleep. It took me a while to discover that the noise that was keeping me up was the sound of frogs trying, desperately, to batter their way into my room. Soft white breasts would beat against the glass, searching for the light that came from my demonic lamp. (It's touch sensitive, and turns itself on or off whenever it chooses.) It didn't take long for my dad and brother to nickname the frogs my boyfriends. We laugh that all I have to do is kiss one and I will magically have a boyfriend.
This notion prompts these pictures with stone frogs.
A stone frog seems to have a special kind of curse, don't you think? It must be a truly powerful magic or love to break that spell--to turn a stone frog into a living, breathing prince. And this is when I wish I lived in those places of fantasy and fairytale, because love is enough to wake the sleeper from the Sleep, and the breath of a Lion can bring the stone to life.
A jolt of realization reminds me that a perfect Love has woken the sleeping soul in me, and that the Lion that breathed the stone to life in Narnia is not so unlike the breath of God breathing life into the dust that became Adam. The Love and Breath that saved and created me exists in a world where frogs don't magically become princes...but the sinners become saints, and the wicked are made new.
"This is not a dream that I'm living, this is just a world of Your own." [Rebecca St. James, Lion]
Showing posts with label Bud Nub. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bud Nub. Show all posts
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Why are you so far from me?
As usual, it's been a while since I last posted and a lot has happened in that time period. I do promise to be more diligent in posting this summer and this next year. I forget how therapeutic blogging can be--and for me, always is.
Instead of going into long details about what has happened, I think a list is in order. This list won't necessarily be in any particular order beside that which they come to me in.
1. I graduated from college with my B.A. in English. I walked across the stage afraid that my cap would tumble off my head, but made it to the president's hand, shook it firmly, and went on my merry way.
2. The Civil Wars have been on repeat since I bought their CD last week. I can't get enough, but wish they had another CD out. There's something about the organic sound and soulful lyrics that speaks to me...
3. My brother graduated from high school. This was huge because his graduation means that my parents could be empty nesters (an idea that I have ruined, but I'll get to that in a bit). I was responsible for the cake at his party, and it was a big success.
4. I did some house sitting for my cousin over this last weekend. She has a new dog (it's actually her boyfriend's, but the basset hound stays are her house), Oliver is a slime monster--cute, but drools a lot. And he's definitely a social eater.
5. I received four rejection letters. And that means that graduate school as not as near as I had hoped. This is why my parents are not going to be empty nesters quite yet. I'm taking the year off and just working, assuming I can find a job in town.
6. There's a possibility that I could be moving to Colorado to live with my brother while he goes to film school and I work. It's a possibility, but also a kind of last option. We'll see what happens.
7. I went on a date (or two). That was exciting, and the highlight of the last two weeks of school. I could go into this, but I think I'll leave it fairly simple. We're keeping in touch, but since we both graduated and are 13 hours from each other we're not "in a relationship." Letter writing is nice.
8. Goodbyes are hard.
9. My God-lesson right now is definitely Trust--and it's written on my wrist as a reminder. Trust. Trust. Trust.
That's about all I've got for an update right now. I'll see you around though, for sure.
"How long will you make me wait? I don't know how much more I can take. I miss you, but I haven't met you. Oh, but I want to. How I do." [The Civil Wars, To Whom It May Concern]
Instead of going into long details about what has happened, I think a list is in order. This list won't necessarily be in any particular order beside that which they come to me in.
1. I graduated from college with my B.A. in English. I walked across the stage afraid that my cap would tumble off my head, but made it to the president's hand, shook it firmly, and went on my merry way.
2. The Civil Wars have been on repeat since I bought their CD last week. I can't get enough, but wish they had another CD out. There's something about the organic sound and soulful lyrics that speaks to me...
3. My brother graduated from high school. This was huge because his graduation means that my parents could be empty nesters (an idea that I have ruined, but I'll get to that in a bit). I was responsible for the cake at his party, and it was a big success.
4. I did some house sitting for my cousin over this last weekend. She has a new dog (it's actually her boyfriend's, but the basset hound stays are her house), Oliver is a slime monster--cute, but drools a lot. And he's definitely a social eater.
5. I received four rejection letters. And that means that graduate school as not as near as I had hoped. This is why my parents are not going to be empty nesters quite yet. I'm taking the year off and just working, assuming I can find a job in town.
6. There's a possibility that I could be moving to Colorado to live with my brother while he goes to film school and I work. It's a possibility, but also a kind of last option. We'll see what happens.
7. I went on a date (or two). That was exciting, and the highlight of the last two weeks of school. I could go into this, but I think I'll leave it fairly simple. We're keeping in touch, but since we both graduated and are 13 hours from each other we're not "in a relationship." Letter writing is nice.
8. Goodbyes are hard.
9. My God-lesson right now is definitely Trust--and it's written on my wrist as a reminder. Trust. Trust. Trust.
That's about all I've got for an update right now. I'll see you around though, for sure.
"How long will you make me wait? I don't know how much more I can take. I miss you, but I haven't met you. Oh, but I want to. How I do." [The Civil Wars, To Whom It May Concern]
Sunday, May 22, 2011
I will swim in the deep...
We've had a lot of rain. And not nice rain but destructive rain. There has been hail and tornado warnings. Let's just face it--if the rain is coming down hard enough and fast enough it's just downright scary.
A prime example of this was Friday. I took my brother to school in the hopes that I would have an interview in the afternoon and would need a car. Well, the interview didn't happen (but hopefully this coming week!). And so, 3:30 rolled around and I had to go get him. At about 2 it had started raining pretty hard. I thought for sure it would clear off by 3:15. It didn't. So, I ran out to the car and started driving.
Visibility was minimal. Gravel is no fun when wet--to the point of being covered in water. My cousin later described it as "driving through a swimming pool." And I think that's an accurate description.
You're going to laugh, but when I got in the car and turned the radio on "Blessed Be Your Name" was playing. I laughed a little, and then enjoyed the song. That got me to the highway. Then the song "Manifesto" (it's fairly new) started playing. That got me to the main road I needed. And then I could hardly see, and there were semis. So, I turned the radio off to focus.
I don't like silence. So I started praying out loud. "Papa God, get me to the school and pick Josef up safely. Protect those traveling on this road." Mostly I was scared of hydroplaning, or being hit by someone else who was. Or my engine flooding--I had to drive through some pretty substantial puddles.
After I was done praying, I turned the radio back on. And I started laughing at the song that was playing. God really does have a funny sense of humor. (Not that I think He made this song play on the radio, but it was a hilarious coincidence.) So I sang along. The song was, "Let the Waters Rise" by Mikeschair.
It was wonderful. I made it to school. My brother had to leap a stream to get into the car, but he made it--a bit wet. (And by a bit wet, I mean soaked.) And we made it home. Just as we pulled into the driveway the rain let up. And I laughed some more.
"There's a raging sea right in front of me, wants to pull me in, bring me to my knees. So let the waters rise if You want them to." [Mikeschair]
A prime example of this was Friday. I took my brother to school in the hopes that I would have an interview in the afternoon and would need a car. Well, the interview didn't happen (but hopefully this coming week!). And so, 3:30 rolled around and I had to go get him. At about 2 it had started raining pretty hard. I thought for sure it would clear off by 3:15. It didn't. So, I ran out to the car and started driving.
Visibility was minimal. Gravel is no fun when wet--to the point of being covered in water. My cousin later described it as "driving through a swimming pool." And I think that's an accurate description.
You're going to laugh, but when I got in the car and turned the radio on "Blessed Be Your Name" was playing. I laughed a little, and then enjoyed the song. That got me to the highway. Then the song "Manifesto" (it's fairly new) started playing. That got me to the main road I needed. And then I could hardly see, and there were semis. So, I turned the radio off to focus.
I don't like silence. So I started praying out loud. "Papa God, get me to the school and pick Josef up safely. Protect those traveling on this road." Mostly I was scared of hydroplaning, or being hit by someone else who was. Or my engine flooding--I had to drive through some pretty substantial puddles.
After I was done praying, I turned the radio back on. And I started laughing at the song that was playing. God really does have a funny sense of humor. (Not that I think He made this song play on the radio, but it was a hilarious coincidence.) So I sang along. The song was, "Let the Waters Rise" by Mikeschair.
It was wonderful. I made it to school. My brother had to leap a stream to get into the car, but he made it--a bit wet. (And by a bit wet, I mean soaked.) And we made it home. Just as we pulled into the driveway the rain let up. And I laughed some more.
"There's a raging sea right in front of me, wants to pull me in, bring me to my knees. So let the waters rise if You want them to." [Mikeschair]
Thursday, April 7, 2011
This is not my home...
Now, judging by the title of this post, I bet you're thinking, "Oh, she's going to talk about heaven." Wrong. I'm not. And besides, that would be way to literal. Haven't you noticed that most of my blog titles are a bit of a stretch? They make sense to me, but I understand that they won't make sense to everyone. ... and that's okay. Anyway... so, if I'm not talking about heaven then what am I talking about?
My family came to see me yesterday on their way home from a college visit with my brother. We went out to eat and I once again took notice of how my brother is growing, but he still maintains the old habits; such as, eating his food in compartments. He ate all of his coleslaw. Then he ate all of his fries. And then he ate his burger. There is to be no mixing of the food before it enters the stomach. No mixing. That rule never gets broken. I told him that he was a compartmentalist.
It doesn't take much to get my mom going on a rant about habits. Let's just say that my family is full of habits...and when they're disrupted...well...it's bad. She said that at this college visit, whenever they would meet back in the big conference room, my dad and brother would pick the exact same seats. We used to sit in the same seats every Sunday; and if we could still swing it, I'm sure we would now too.
It always makes me laugh when I notice these habitual things in my family.
Today in Language and Linguistics we moved to a different classroom. (I just realized it was for the VCR.) And that was strange for me. I had to sit in a completely different room...and it definitely through of my groove. (Weird, I know.)
Then, I went to Poetry Writing and someone was sitting in my chair! Now, I don't actually care, it wasn't a big deal, but it was still a displacement.
And then it hit me.
I am so my daddy's girl.
I like my routine, and I get flustered when it's disrupted.
At least I don't compartmentalize my food. That would be silly.
"Now's the time for letting go. I surrender all. Can You hear my call, when I'm at the end of myself? Is this where You begin, when I'm caving in." [Remedy Drive]
My family came to see me yesterday on their way home from a college visit with my brother. We went out to eat and I once again took notice of how my brother is growing, but he still maintains the old habits; such as, eating his food in compartments. He ate all of his coleslaw. Then he ate all of his fries. And then he ate his burger. There is to be no mixing of the food before it enters the stomach. No mixing. That rule never gets broken. I told him that he was a compartmentalist.
It doesn't take much to get my mom going on a rant about habits. Let's just say that my family is full of habits...and when they're disrupted...well...it's bad. She said that at this college visit, whenever they would meet back in the big conference room, my dad and brother would pick the exact same seats. We used to sit in the same seats every Sunday; and if we could still swing it, I'm sure we would now too.
It always makes me laugh when I notice these habitual things in my family.
Today in Language and Linguistics we moved to a different classroom. (I just realized it was for the VCR.) And that was strange for me. I had to sit in a completely different room...and it definitely through of my groove. (Weird, I know.)
Then, I went to Poetry Writing and someone was sitting in my chair! Now, I don't actually care, it wasn't a big deal, but it was still a displacement.
And then it hit me.
I am so my daddy's girl.
I like my routine, and I get flustered when it's disrupted.
At least I don't compartmentalize my food. That would be silly.
"Now's the time for letting go. I surrender all. Can You hear my call, when I'm at the end of myself? Is this where You begin, when I'm caving in." [Remedy Drive]
Sunday, April 3, 2011
If my eyes, wide open, fail to see...
April 3rd. Well, today marks the beginning of the next decade of my life. It feels like the last one took forever. Being a teen is hard work, you know?
It's funny, we all have our birthdays in a months time. Josef is first. Then Dad, who is now 51, and apparently feeling quite old. And Mom and I today... Mom's only a year from 50. And I'm 20.
Before my parents went to be tonight, Dad came out to where I was working on some homework. He wanted to know if I would turn off the lights when I went to bed. He was massaging my shoulders and then told me that I had already received a lot of birthday wishes on Facebook. I looked up at him and said, "I'm not a teenager anymore, Daddy."
"I know, you're getting old!"
Can we be old together? I have all the creaky joints, and I'm reading a book about grammar, for goodness sake. I get grumpy when I see girls in my brother's class wearing short skirts on stage. (Really? Didn't anyone teach you about costuming? And if you're whiter than I am...well...keep your legs covered, girl.) I hate people who text during theatre performances.....yeah.
It hit me today, that I have already known my daddy longer than he knew his dad. And that is a disturbing thought for me. I was sitting at a music rally...and I almost started to cry. And then my mom called. Twice. I thought for sure Dad had had a heart attack and she needed help. How horrible is it that my first thought after getting two calls was that my dad was in serious danger? Turns out she just wanted to know if I wanted to go get food with them.
It's funny, growing up you feel like your parents are invincible. Nothing could ever tear them down, they are the rocks on which you build your life until you're sturdy enough to stand on your own and be someone else's rock. This year has shattered that illusion for me. My mom is having some of the worst medical issues she has ever had to face...and Dad is just tired. More tired than I ever remember seeing him. I don't remember him being this tired when he would only sleep a couple hours a night because he would stay up making whistles.
When Mom told me good night, I told her, "Now you can be old, too!" And I meant that I was old...but she definitely thought I meant that she and Dad were old.
And they are, I guess. But I'm getting "old" too. A fifth of a century... just four more to go.
So, here's to more creaky joints. (Seriously, you should hear me climb stairs if you haven't already.)
"And your thoughts all break my heart, because there's a chapter left to write. ... Won't you run, fly, open up your lungs tonight. Breathe freedom for the first time in your life. ... He's not through with you yet." [Building 429]
It's funny, we all have our birthdays in a months time. Josef is first. Then Dad, who is now 51, and apparently feeling quite old. And Mom and I today... Mom's only a year from 50. And I'm 20.
Before my parents went to be tonight, Dad came out to where I was working on some homework. He wanted to know if I would turn off the lights when I went to bed. He was massaging my shoulders and then told me that I had already received a lot of birthday wishes on Facebook. I looked up at him and said, "I'm not a teenager anymore, Daddy."
"I know, you're getting old!"
Can we be old together? I have all the creaky joints, and I'm reading a book about grammar, for goodness sake. I get grumpy when I see girls in my brother's class wearing short skirts on stage. (Really? Didn't anyone teach you about costuming? And if you're whiter than I am...well...keep your legs covered, girl.) I hate people who text during theatre performances.....yeah.
It hit me today, that I have already known my daddy longer than he knew his dad. And that is a disturbing thought for me. I was sitting at a music rally...and I almost started to cry. And then my mom called. Twice. I thought for sure Dad had had a heart attack and she needed help. How horrible is it that my first thought after getting two calls was that my dad was in serious danger? Turns out she just wanted to know if I wanted to go get food with them.
It's funny, growing up you feel like your parents are invincible. Nothing could ever tear them down, they are the rocks on which you build your life until you're sturdy enough to stand on your own and be someone else's rock. This year has shattered that illusion for me. My mom is having some of the worst medical issues she has ever had to face...and Dad is just tired. More tired than I ever remember seeing him. I don't remember him being this tired when he would only sleep a couple hours a night because he would stay up making whistles.
When Mom told me good night, I told her, "Now you can be old, too!" And I meant that I was old...but she definitely thought I meant that she and Dad were old.
And they are, I guess. But I'm getting "old" too. A fifth of a century... just four more to go.
So, here's to more creaky joints. (Seriously, you should hear me climb stairs if you haven't already.)
"And your thoughts all break my heart, because there's a chapter left to write. ... Won't you run, fly, open up your lungs tonight. Breathe freedom for the first time in your life. ... He's not through with you yet." [Building 429]
Thursday, March 24, 2011
God is bigger than the boogie man...
My brother turned seventeen last week. He's officially taller than I am. When we were younger, we used to fight like no one's business. There was hair pulling, biting, hitting, yeah, the works. We were nasty to each other... but under that level of rawness there was a deeper love that went straight to our bones, the very essence of who we were.
I used to sing to him when he was terribly scared. I would tell him everything would be okay, that Daddy would never let anything happen to us because he loved us so much. (Not that there was ever actually any danger, anyway.)
Well, on Monday I got a phone call from him. He rarely calls me... and I was watching Stargate with a friend. (Yes, every Monday I let my inner nerd out and watch my sci fi show.) It was a really intense episode emotionally, and I didn't really want to talk to him just then. But I answered anyway. He said that he was driving home from Boy Scouts. (He's almost an Eagle Scout, woo!) He also said he almost hit five animals, and that he was kind of freaked out by it.
He's always been afraid of the dark and the nightly noises. Which always reminds me of the quote "heed no nightly noises" which comes up in The Fellowship of the Ring as well as other places. I told him he would be fine. And that I needed to go. After hanging up, I almost instantly regretted it. If we had been younger, I would have sang for him, I would have sang the Veggie Tales song, "God is bigger than the boogie man" and I know it would have made him feel better.
The next night I was walking back to my room in the dark. While I wasn't actually freaked out, I was kind of bored, and cold, so I called him. He, surprisingly, answered. And he talked to me the entire way back to my dorm. He told me silly stories that made me laugh and started retelling an episode of Magnum P.I. for me. It was sweet.
I'm glad that I have him. And while I sometimes feel like I'm protecting him, I don't think he realizes how much he is protecting me. I don't think I always realize. But he is. He protects my heart from bitterness and depression. He saves me from self-loathing. I am so thankful for him and his laughter and ability to make me laugh, even when I'm royally ticked off.
Just the other day I was flipping through a notebook and found scrawled on one of the pages: "Beauty is more than skin deep. And your skin is beautiful so you've got both things going for you!" --Josef
And I found a video he had recorded on my computer over Christmas of him dancing while I was listening to music in the kitchen while baking.
I miss my Bud Nub. Desperately. He's the best little brother I could have ever asked for.
"God smiles on my little brother. His love is making me stronger. Inside and out he's better than I am." [Taylor Swift]
I used to sing to him when he was terribly scared. I would tell him everything would be okay, that Daddy would never let anything happen to us because he loved us so much. (Not that there was ever actually any danger, anyway.)
Well, on Monday I got a phone call from him. He rarely calls me... and I was watching Stargate with a friend. (Yes, every Monday I let my inner nerd out and watch my sci fi show.) It was a really intense episode emotionally, and I didn't really want to talk to him just then. But I answered anyway. He said that he was driving home from Boy Scouts. (He's almost an Eagle Scout, woo!) He also said he almost hit five animals, and that he was kind of freaked out by it.
He's always been afraid of the dark and the nightly noises. Which always reminds me of the quote "heed no nightly noises" which comes up in The Fellowship of the Ring as well as other places. I told him he would be fine. And that I needed to go. After hanging up, I almost instantly regretted it. If we had been younger, I would have sang for him, I would have sang the Veggie Tales song, "God is bigger than the boogie man" and I know it would have made him feel better.
The next night I was walking back to my room in the dark. While I wasn't actually freaked out, I was kind of bored, and cold, so I called him. He, surprisingly, answered. And he talked to me the entire way back to my dorm. He told me silly stories that made me laugh and started retelling an episode of Magnum P.I. for me. It was sweet.
I'm glad that I have him. And while I sometimes feel like I'm protecting him, I don't think he realizes how much he is protecting me. I don't think I always realize. But he is. He protects my heart from bitterness and depression. He saves me from self-loathing. I am so thankful for him and his laughter and ability to make me laugh, even when I'm royally ticked off.
Just the other day I was flipping through a notebook and found scrawled on one of the pages: "Beauty is more than skin deep. And your skin is beautiful so you've got both things going for you!" --Josef
And I found a video he had recorded on my computer over Christmas of him dancing while I was listening to music in the kitchen while baking.
I miss my Bud Nub. Desperately. He's the best little brother I could have ever asked for.
"God smiles on my little brother. His love is making me stronger. Inside and out he's better than I am." [Taylor Swift]
Monday, January 31, 2011
I need a holiday...
I want to go home.
I need a hug from my brother.
I need to give our Hansi-dog some lovins.
I need to sit on our couch with Hansi curled up beside me.
I need a change of scenery.
I need to wash dishes.
I need to make supper.
I need a breather.
I miss Josef like no ones business. Sometimes I forget how much I like spending time with him until I'm not around him and I feel that sharp pang of distance. And time. He's my best friend. I'm sad it took me so long to realize it.
Hansi hurt himself Saturday somehow. He's just not been acting like himself, no jumping. The weird thing is, I never used to have strong emotions about dogs... but now that we've had a little one, a cute one, I care a lot. But isn't that silly? I mean, when we bought him, we knew that mini-dachshunds are prone to back injuries. I just didn't think the day would come.
This Christmas break I really resented having to wash all the dishes and make all the food... but now that I'm not, I miss that bit of domesticity.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Lest I forget...
I went home this last weekend, and I just want to share a few things so I don't forget them. This runs the potential for being a very strange post, but I pray you stick with me. Perhaps something will resonate with you, or you'll catch a glimpse of your own home. Here are a few pieces of my life:
When Josef got home from school (he's a junior) I found out two things:
Earlier in the week he had been knocked down by some dork that was running to get away from some other kid. He fell in the snow, ripped a hole in his jeans and has a gash in his knee. My first question was, "Did you yell at him?" I could feel the protective older sister in me boiling. Nobody messes with my little brother. He said the kid was already far away by the time he got up. I said that I still would have yelled. "Well, that's you Anna, not me." How very true. We aren't the same person, as similar as we are. It was agreed that if it would have happened to me, my arm would have been out to catch the twerp and he would have been down in the snow with me. I wouldn't have hurt him... but I would have put the fear of God in him. Or so I would like to think.... sometimes injury done to me doesn't light nearly as big a fire in me as injury to Josef.
Also, I would like to thank whoever broke into Josef's car. I appreciate that you didn't take anything. Oh, and thanks for the sunglasses you left behind.
A dog got into our yard and dug through the snow into Dad's new grass and landscaping...he was not too happy. "If they come around here tomorrow they'll get lead poisoning." Saturday, our little dog started going crazy, and the next thing I know is Dad is outside with the shotgun. I paced around the inside of the house while I waited for the pop that was sure to come. I watched him as he aimed, which I thought was suspiciously high, and I watched him shoot while I couldn't see the target. I went to the East side of the house and watched two dogs run down the road. He came inside and said one had a collar for sure and he didn't want to shoot anyone's pet.
We went on a Daddy/Daughter date. I talked about my Language and Linguistic class a lot. He said, "I don't really like monarchs..." when I started asking questions about the Kings and Queens of England. They fascinate me. A difference.
Dad taught me how to make spaghetti. When it started splattering Mom said she would find me an apron. "It's okay, it's just my STD shirt."
"Oh, but that shirt is so cool!"
"Tammy, STD, not Sigma Tau Delta."
"Oh.... how did that happen?"
(I have two shirts for the English honors program I'm in, Sigma Tau Delta, it's really kind of unfortunate. The company that made our shirts made a mistake the first time around and put the letters in English, not Greek.)
When picking a movie to watch, "How's about The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex?"
"Well... I've been in that kind of mood, why not?"
"I didn't think you would actually say yes."
"We could watch Captain Blood instead."
This was after we watched Footsteps in the Dark. If you're an old movie buff you'll understand, or know, that these are all Errol Flynn movies. My dad loves Errol Flynn, he's one of his favorite actors, and probably one of mine as well. The only movie I didn't care for was Elizabeth and Essex. I don't know what it is... possibly the lady that plays Queen Elizabeth... I don't really know. It could be the ending but I won't give that away for you.
And now I have this insatiable desire to watch The Seahawk.
"When will you be home next, Anna boo?"
"Probably four weeks."
I know, Bud Nub, it's a long time....
"It is entirely innocent I am!"
"You must use the right words."
"Oh, words is it? Not guilty."
[Errol Flynn, Captain Blood]
When Josef got home from school (he's a junior) I found out two things:
Earlier in the week he had been knocked down by some dork that was running to get away from some other kid. He fell in the snow, ripped a hole in his jeans and has a gash in his knee. My first question was, "Did you yell at him?" I could feel the protective older sister in me boiling. Nobody messes with my little brother. He said the kid was already far away by the time he got up. I said that I still would have yelled. "Well, that's you Anna, not me." How very true. We aren't the same person, as similar as we are. It was agreed that if it would have happened to me, my arm would have been out to catch the twerp and he would have been down in the snow with me. I wouldn't have hurt him... but I would have put the fear of God in him. Or so I would like to think.... sometimes injury done to me doesn't light nearly as big a fire in me as injury to Josef.
Also, I would like to thank whoever broke into Josef's car. I appreciate that you didn't take anything. Oh, and thanks for the sunglasses you left behind.
A dog got into our yard and dug through the snow into Dad's new grass and landscaping...he was not too happy. "If they come around here tomorrow they'll get lead poisoning." Saturday, our little dog started going crazy, and the next thing I know is Dad is outside with the shotgun. I paced around the inside of the house while I waited for the pop that was sure to come. I watched him as he aimed, which I thought was suspiciously high, and I watched him shoot while I couldn't see the target. I went to the East side of the house and watched two dogs run down the road. He came inside and said one had a collar for sure and he didn't want to shoot anyone's pet.
We went on a Daddy/Daughter date. I talked about my Language and Linguistic class a lot. He said, "I don't really like monarchs..." when I started asking questions about the Kings and Queens of England. They fascinate me. A difference.
Dad taught me how to make spaghetti. When it started splattering Mom said she would find me an apron. "It's okay, it's just my STD shirt."
"Oh, but that shirt is so cool!"
"Tammy, STD, not Sigma Tau Delta."
"Oh.... how did that happen?"
(I have two shirts for the English honors program I'm in, Sigma Tau Delta, it's really kind of unfortunate. The company that made our shirts made a mistake the first time around and put the letters in English, not Greek.)
When picking a movie to watch, "How's about The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex?"
"Well... I've been in that kind of mood, why not?"
"I didn't think you would actually say yes."
"We could watch Captain Blood instead."
This was after we watched Footsteps in the Dark. If you're an old movie buff you'll understand, or know, that these are all Errol Flynn movies. My dad loves Errol Flynn, he's one of his favorite actors, and probably one of mine as well. The only movie I didn't care for was Elizabeth and Essex. I don't know what it is... possibly the lady that plays Queen Elizabeth... I don't really know. It could be the ending but I won't give that away for you.
And now I have this insatiable desire to watch The Seahawk.
"When will you be home next, Anna boo?"
"Probably four weeks."
I know, Bud Nub, it's a long time....
"It is entirely innocent I am!"
"You must use the right words."
"Oh, words is it? Not guilty."
[Errol Flynn, Captain Blood]
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