Saturday, February 27, 2010

Striving After... What?


I has been thinking. And yes, I know that is bad grammar.  I am in a sensational mood.  I do really love tea, and my lovely brother just made me some.  That, combined with a sort of somnolence that seems to hang over me like a shroud puts me in a rather odd mood.  And I start asking questions.  Questions that I know the answer to, but that I like to ask anyways... Because, in a rather odd way, it makes me rethink the whole philosophy, and then that makes me ask more questions.  It's rather bothersome, sometimes, but that's alright.  I don't mind today.

Today, I think the weather is affecting me.  It's so cold, it's so grey, it's so bleak, it's so hard... and so white.  It makes me passive, like it doesn't matter what happens.  I have the mindset: "Who cares? It's cold anyways." As if that will answer every question.  But it won't.  And I found myself asking...

How much is too much?

Where is the correct balance?  How do you know where to find it?

How little is not enough?

How do we find out our "brain" capacity before it's too late? This is a very me question.  In other words, I want to know how much my brain can tolerate before it explodes.

How do we find the courage to face a fear that can hardly be described as a fear?

How do we find the difference between sloth and really not being able to handle something?

I really don't know.  The only thing I know how to do is to trust God.  I know that courage comes from God, not man.  I know that wisdom from my own heart is bound to be deceitful, but I know that God will guide me to make the right decisions, and that the wisdom comes from him.

In fact, I know that nothing comes from myself, but everything comes from him.  He satisfies every need, he fills every gap, every chasm in our soul.   He binds up our brokenness.  Think about that.  We don't need anything, but Him.  He satisfies our every need... He fulfills our every desire... And it's not by giving us what we want, it's by showing us what we need, and that is himself.

That doesn't mean our life is struggle-free, though.  There are still these questions.  For me, it's this.

With regards to school, this constant studying that I must do in order to graduate absolutely horrifies me. Not that I hate it, but it makes me ever so tired to think about.  I wish that there weren't any set time for graduation, but that I could always be learning at a leisurely level, through all the years.... but that's the catch.  If it pleases God for me to get married, and have a family, I probably won't have time to study like that.  That's why I have only 2.5 years to finish all this school.  I know I have to finished it because, even though I don't know if I'm going to get married or not, I have no idea what my life holds, and I need to try and be prepared for whatever it is.  So that's how I know to persevere with my studies.  But how high of a level should I try and reach for?

So, for now, even though I have fallen behind due to health issues (grin), I have set in my mind to not try and catch up, as that might make everything worse and unbearable, but to continue at a slow, yet steady pace.  Fast enough to get done what needs to be done, and slow enough to let it sink in, and so that school won't be the only thing my life is centered around. :P

And I know that the title of this post has next to nothing to do with the actual post, but it was random, like my mood.

Thanks for reading. :D Leave your comments, please. :)

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

My Day... And Pizza

Today started out like any normal day. I woke up, saw the snow with a bit of dismay, and with a greater dismay realized what time it was.  Then I went back to sleep.  That is how my normal day starts.  And then my five year old sister comes up carrying one of my mom's delicious strawberry shakes... "Ruby, do you want this now? Oatmeal is on the table." And I felt a pang of guilt.  A sixteen year old girl who stays up late and gets up late does not deserve a strawberry shake.  But then, do we deserve anything but death? So, I went downstairs and had breakfast.

I read for a few hours.  That's not uncommon.  I was reading Robert Louis Stevenson's The Black Arrow (highly recommended.)  And then I did my math.  After which my mother informed me I was going to help her in the kitchen.  I was told to reorganize the tupperware cabinet, and the pantry.  Then we started making bread.  Mother first made her sourdough starter, which has to sit for seven days, each day having more rye and water added to it.  Something like that.  And then we started making our basic bread recipe.  And mother said something about how she had gotten "that mozzarella cheese for pizza."  I had been cutting up pineapple. Because I love pineapple.  And I said: "Mommy! Can we have pizza tonight??" And she said, "sure, why not?" so she changed her bread into pizza dough, and we looked through the refrigerator to see what we could find.

Actually, we didn't really look through the refrigerator.

We didn't have any red sauce, so we made the alternative.

After the dough had been baked in shape, we rubbed olive oil on the surface.  Next, I placed a few slices of fresh mozzarella cheese (not the stuff mom got for pizza) and some bright red tomatoes.  Then I sprinkles some basil on top of this, and some freshly chopped garlic.  Mother sauteed mushrooms in lots of butter, so I put some of that on, and then bright green broccoli.  Then I remembered that we had apple sausage in the refrigerator, so we chopped that up, sauteed it, and threw that on.

Man, it was good.

Za Pizza.

Sorry they're a bit blurry... I had to take them with my computer, because all our other devices for taking pictures aren't at home. :P

So, that's my post for today.  You should make this pizza.  It was amazing.  Mom and I went on to make another pizza with broccoli, pineapple, sausage, cheese, basil, garlic and mushrooms. They were GOOD! :D

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

I'm From the Department of Redundancy Department

So, I know that I've posted this before... I know I've posted a lot of things before that I post again, but I can't help it!  When I feel like it applies so well, I just have to use it again.  So, without further ado... Eagerly anticipating my favorite season, Spring, being so near at hand... and yet with everything still bare and dreary, here is a passage from Robinson Crusoe which fairly describes my attitude towards the weather. :)

"There are some secret moving Springs in the Affections, which when they are set a going by some Object in view, or be it some Object, though not in view, yet rendered present to the Mind by the Power of Imagination, that Motion carries out the Soul by its Impetuosity to such violent eager embracings of the Object, that the Absence of it is insupportable." (Robinson Crusoe)

I really want Spring. Really really bad. The snow is pretty and everything, but I love hearing the rain on my roof, and think of it cleansing the earth... and I love to think of the earth coming alive... and I love to watch the green tint on the trees when the buds are finally on the trees, but haven't fully developed into... uh... leaves.  And I love to feel the warm breeze on my face, and I love to wake up to the birds singing, and I love to hear the thunder, and... I just love everything about Spring.  It's the season of new birth... if you think about it.  Everything is cold, and dead, and hard.  And then in Spring, everything turns warm... everything is alive... everything is warm. :) 

Spring will come... I'm trying to wait patiently... but the "absence of it is insupportable."

Thursday, February 18, 2010


I .. am... a...uh... robot??

He's faking.

Epitome of exhaustion.  Except for Grandpa.  Notice Olivia's face.

Big Nose meets Little Nose.... And Little Nose gets scared.

Hi. Are you okay?

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Euphoric Nostalgia

is that contradictory? I can't tell... but it perfectly describes what I'm thinking...

I'll explain.

I've been thinking a lot about Scotland.  I wish I remembered more of what I felt when I was there.  It was so beautiful, so rugged... and the hills looked as if they said—"You don't belong here! What do you know of us or our history, the history of this land?"—at first glance... If mountains could mock, these mountains certainly did.  But I came to love them.  I didn't understand the land, and I didn't pretend to... But I knew that I was drawn to it by something I couldn't quite place.  I loved the mountains in spite of their austere nature, and everything about the land.  The vibrant heather against the green, the green against the deep, cloudy sky... Everything contrasted so highly, and everything blending so beautifully.  In short, I believe I rather fell in love.

And I remember feeling rather listless when we boarded the train for London.  I remember thinking: "Why must I leave? Can't I stay here forever? Can't I wander on these roads, wander in the highlands, live among the heather, among the sheep... Why must I leave?"

All good things come to an end.  Except for the best thing of all—too good for our finite minds to comprehend... God never comes to an end.  He is forever.

Ever since I went to Scotland, I have been gripped by a kind a nostalgia... The mountains couldn't care less if I came or went, the land seemed to say: "thousands come to see this... we are here merely for a show." How I wanted to live amongst the people, to learn about the land, to discover, explore, and become part of it!  It was so beautiful... The most beautiful I've ever seen.  Whenever I think of Scotland I am accompanied by a wild, beautiful excitement.  This is the most beautiful land I had seen.  Then I saw, that I was willing to give up a lot... a lot... to fulfill this dream of actually living in Scotland.

Now as I'm thinking about this, I can't help remembering the most beautiful thing I saw when I was there.  We were standing high on a cliff, where Flora MacDonald was buried.  The graves were old and weatherbeaten.  The sea was gray and stormy.  The sky was dark, as if it was ready for a storm... yet it had been that way all day.  We could see the cliffs all around, the inlets, the waves crashing against the barren rocks.  And then.... through that gray, gray sky, there came light, filtering through and resting on an inlet.  It was the most beautiful thing.

"Beyond this labyrinth of darkness, there is a realm of light."

I was so captured by this lovely image.  All around was dark and stormy, and yet the light rested there on the calm water... There was no break in the clouds, and yet there was the light, soft yet strong.

I was blessed to get a picture of it.

And now, looking back, I see that I was willing to give up a lot.

And over the past few days I've asked myself...

"Have I been so willing to give up so much to follow Christ? Is following Christ more important to me than fulfilling my dream of someday returning to Scotland, to spend as much time there as possible?" Scotland requires me to give up a lot.  God requires me to give up all.  And all includes that dream of Scotland.  Yes, I am willing to remain with this euphoric nostalgia of that beautiful country, being content with that.  I am willing never to go there again, if that is what God's will is.  Because God is more important to me than a country that will pass away.  And as beautiful as it is, it will never be as beautiful as God's grace, or as glorious as he himself is, clothed in holiness and righteousness.  This is beauty.

But there was a time when I was unsure.  For awhile I wondered to myself whether or not Scotland had become more important.  I might be reluctant to give up a few things to follow Christ, but I could certainly think of nothing I was reluctant to give up right then and there to go to Scotland.  Just being there would be reward enough for all I had given up.

But I deserve no reward.  I would have given up a lot, but it was never mine to give up.  Everything I own is a gift from my Father... everything I have is from him.  Nothing truly belongs to me.  And soon, I will die, and the image of Scotland will be unimportant.  It would pass, just like everything else.  I will die, and it will be gone.  Should I give up everything for something that I can only enjoy in this present life—and have no memory of in after-life?  What about God? This life may be full of suffering... full of sorrow... full of trials and tribulations, but we can find beauty and joy in Christ.  He gives us light, just like the light coming through the dark clouds on the water.  And through his strength, we can be a light in a dark place.  If we give up everything—our passions, our desires, our relationships—EVERYTHING, and follow Christ, think of what we will gain afterwords—an eternity with our King!

That is much better than a few years in a rugged, beautiful land.

That is so much better it doesn't even compare...

And I decided that no, Scotland was not more important to me than the task that I have been given: to follow Christ whole-heartedly and proclaim his name everywhere.

It doesn't mean I can't remember Scotland as a beautiful place, but it does mean that it simply won't be as important to me as the life God has called me to live.  

Monday, February 15, 2010


Tennyson expresses so much. I love reading his poetry.

"Love took up the glass of Time, and turn'd it in his glowing hands
Every moment, lightly shaken, ran itself in golden sands.

Love took up the harp of Life, and smote its chords with all his might
Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, pass'd in music out of sight."

Isn't that absolutely glorious?? For a moment, it lifts me above everything, I forget that I'm human... I forget that I am... and I close my eyes and repeat those lines to myself, and I feel like I exist in a sphere of perfect sublimity... Well, okay that's going too far.  But it surges my inspiration and makes me wild with delight when I read it.  And then I come back to reality.... because I see a few verses later...

"O my cousin, shallow-hearted! O my Amy, mine no more!
O the dreary, dreary moorland! O the barren, barren shore!"

And my soul cries out for the exclaimer of this verse...

And then I think....

"Well, thank goodness it's not for real."

Because otherwise I would be in agonies. That's just me, though.

I Was Cleaning My Room....

and i found this. I wonder where I was going with it? i wrote it in november of 2008 when i was reading Lord of the Rings for the hundredth time... got inspired, i guess by Tolkien, but I can't remember what the rest of it was going to be. Oh well.

Under tree, earth, and stone
An ancient people dwell
Diminished is their flesh and bone
Their tales no man can tell.

It's morbid, isn't it?

oh well. :P

I was thinking about how there are great people that are remembered in this life... but without the minor people in their lives, and in the generations before them, they would have never become great.  There are obscure people in history, who, because they existed and did certain things, helped bring about God's plan for the greater people.  Just because they are obscure does not mean they are less important.  They felt things too.  They felt pain, misery, sorrow, joy, love, bliss, anger, happiness.  They felt the same things we feel, and yet, they are unremembered by man.  Their stories are lost in the whirlwind of history.  Their lives are insignificant... not even their names are remembered!

I am not remonstrating.... this is obviously God's plan.  Those obscure people are part of his plan, too, and by being part of his plan they helped bring about his will.  Everybody has a significant role in this world—no one was placed here without a purpose.

But here is what I wonder... What part did they play in the great scheme of things?  What was their role? Who were their friends? How did they die? Did they ever have the joy of being saved by Christ? What were the like? What sorts of things did they think and feel?  Their lives were probably as tumultuous, adventurous, and exciting as many of the novels we read.  But who were they?

I wonder...

Their tales no man can tell. 

But God hasn't forgotten them, has he? How can he forget what he created, what he brought about, what he planned?  No, he hasn't forgotten them... He knows their stories.

Saturday, February 13, 2010

The Road Goes Ever On and On....

The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with weary feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.

~ J.R.R. Tolkien, Lord of the Rings (The Fellowship of the Ring)

I like this version too:

Roads go ever ever on,
Over rock and under tree,
By caves where never sun has shone,
By streams that never find the sea;
Over snow by winter sown,
And through the merry flowers of June,
Over grass and over stone,
And under mountains in the moon.
Roads go ever ever on
Under cloud and under star,
Yet feet that wandering have gone
Turn at last to home afar.
Eyes that fire and sword have seen
And horror in the halls of stone
Look at last on meadows green
And trees and hills they long have known.
~ J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit

Friday, February 12, 2010

Four Hundred and Fifty Six years ago....

I am so ashamed that I forgot to remember what happened 456 years ago today... Every year I think: "I'm going to remember... I'm going to remember..." and I hope that the admiration and honor I bear towards this dead person will help me to remember... Instead, I am reminded by a little history thing on my computer that tells me what happened on such and such a date... and when I was browsing around on my computer, I caught sight of it...

Oh well.

On February 12, 1554, Lady Jane Grey (*grin*) was executed for treason against her cousin Mary Tudor.  She had been queen for nine days, and didn't live for her coronation.  Mary came in to London, gaining incredible support, and threw Jane into the Tower of London.  Her life might have been spared, but an uprising caused by her father Thomas Grey and Sir Thomas Wyatt sealed her fate, for they demanded their queen back.  Jane was executed, at the young age of 17, with her husband Guilford Dudley, who was about her age or a year older.

I know I've done posts about Lady Jane before... And I know that you all know how much I love her indefatigable character which was based on her firm and strong faith and love for her God.  I admire her bravery in the face of death... When she saw the remains of her husband being carried underneath her window, she cried out: "O, Guilford! Death is not so bitter that you have tasted, and that I shall soon taste, as to make my flesh tremble; it is nothing compared to the feast which you and I shall this day partake of in heaven!"

She went to her death humbly... bravely... nobly... She left this sinful life, called to a more glorious life above—free from the trials and tribulations she had patiently born her entire life.  I know it might seem a little odd to you, but she is my heroine—an example that I attempt to follow...

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

He Will Exult Over You With Loud Singing

O my dear friends, keep in mind these glorious words from the Lord, our God, who sits enthroned in the heavens... Can you believe that he really said this? That it is really true? I can't... it's so surreal... so lovely, so entirely beyond me to understand how an all-powerful, sovereign God could say this to a wretched sinner like me... It is so beautiful, and what joy can be found in the fact that it is true!

Isaiah 30:18-26

 "18Therefore the LORD waits to be gracious to you,
   and therefore he exalts himself to show mercy to you.
For the LORD is a God of justice;
    blessed are all those who wait for him.

 19For a people shall dwell in Zion, in Jerusalem; you shall weep no more. He will surely be gracious to you at the sound of your cry. As soon as he hears it, he answers you. 20And though the Lord give you the bread of adversity and the water of affliction, yet your Teacher will not hide himself anymore, but your eyes shall see your Teacher.21 And your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, "This is the way, walk in it," when you turn to the right or when you turn to the left. 22Then you will defile your carved idols overlaid with silver and your gold-plated metal images. You will scatter them as unclean things. You will say to them, "Be gone!"
 23And he will give rain for the seed with which you sow the ground, and bread, the produce of the ground, which will be rich and plenteous. In that day your livestock will graze in large pastures, 24and the oxen and the donkeys that work the ground will eat seasoned fodder, which has been winnowed with shovel and fork. 25And on every lofty mountain and every high hill there will be brooks running with water, in the day of the great slaughter, when the towers fall. 26Moreover, the light of the moon will be as the light of the sun, and the light of the sun will be sevenfold, as the light of seven days, in the day when the LORD binds up the brokenness of his people, and heals the wounds inflicted by his blow."

Imagine this! When we have the strength to say to the unclean things, our gods, our idols - "Be gone!" And imagine when they really truly will be gone! What a burden will be lifted from us when we see that we are delivered from our temptations!  This is, indeed, a wonderful thing.  And, though our God strikes us... though he breaks us... though he inflicts wounds on us that sting and ache and make us cry out in pain... Bear in mind, dearest reader, that he is our healer... The Lord binds up our brokenness, just the same as he caused it.  He is our Rod, and he is our Healer.  How entirely awesome this is!

And the fact that we will see our Teacher... and that we will know the way in which to walk.  Nothing will be confused... it will be clear.  How I long for that day!

And... this is something else that daddy showed us the other night, that is so incredibly comforting and awing to think about.

Zephaniah 3:17

"17The LORD your God is in your midst,
    a mighty one who will save;
 he will rejoice over you with gladness;
   he will quiet you by his love;
he will exult over you with loud singing."

That God... the same one who wrote down the events of history... who made this earth and all the things therein, who is powerful and might... That this same God is in our midst constantly... And not only that, but he will save us.  And! Not only that... but imagine this.... he rejoices over us with gladness.  The tumult of our souls and our hearts caused by the fallen state of our depraved world will be quieted by his love.  His love is so great that it will quiet our fears, our anxieties, our anger... it will quiet us, and we will be at peace.  And not only this! But he will exult over you with loud singing.  Can you imagine that? God exulting over us with loud singing? Over us?  We are proud, indeed, to be the children of God.

And it is so comforting.  Our Father loves us, he cares for us... He really truly does! And not in a wishy washy sort of way... In a very masculine way, and yet tenderly.  His love is strong, and even the strongest men out there who are his children, must admit that even they find comfort and everlasting solace in his embrace. :)

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

A Little Knock In The Head...

Ruby is setting the table.

Ruby hears a whimpering by the buffet.

Ruby sees Gabriel hunched over.

Ruby starts laughing.

Gabriel: "Ruby it's not funny! (whimpering) I... hit... my... head..."

Ruby: "I know... I saw... (sarcastically) oh Gabriel, it'll be okay! I'm sorry!"

Gabriel: "Stoppit! It's not funny! (tries not to laugh)"

Ruby goes over to Gabriel.

Gabriel takes his arm down from his head.

Ruby sees a little red spot on his shirt.

Ruby wonders: "How did he get that red spot there to make me believe he's really hurt.

Ruby glances at his head, and a moment later rushes him into the bathroom.

"Daddy, daddy! Look at Gabriel!"

Daddy looks at Gabriel.

Daddy says: "Quick! Get the camera!"

Hence the below picture...

As Monk would say....

"Here's how it happened...."

The sound of piano music from the family room drifted into the kitchen.  Pianist Brooke Hopkins was right in the middle of his third piano lesson for the day.  The young student was playing a Sonatina by F. Kuhlau.   Gabriel was in the kitchen... picking at anything that was edible.  He then thought that he would steal into the music room to check something on dad's computer.  The piano music kept on drifting... and drifting... Gabriel took big strides towards the family room, closing the basement door to get by.  But as he was closing it, it bounced off of his foot (he had closed it so fast that it bounced off of his foot...) however, he had kept his upper body moving, and he door hit his head, and penetrated ALL THREE layers of skin, arousing the blood found there, which flowed angrily down his face.  Gabriel put his face in the crook of his elbow and whimpered.  Because Gabriel doesn't cry.  But he does whimper. 

The End.

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Ooops! I'm Sick!

Well, when I get sick, I get a bunch of random thoughts that magically wiggle themselves on to my blog.  I try to slap them and tell them "no" but they won't listen to me.  They have a mind of their own.

Yes, I'm sick.  Sore throat, bad cough... I feel like I have a fever, but I don't.

These are some things I have learned over the past few weeks:

Drink water. LOTS OF IT!

Don't eat too much sugar.


Don't pretend like you're an insomniac.

As you may have guessed, I did the absolute OPPOSITE of all of these.  My poor adrenals are all shriveled up, and I feel naughty that I've neglected them for so long.  But hopefully my health-world will be back to normal before too long.  Oh! And another thing I've learned....

Trust in the Lord! Because if you don't, it causes TONS of emotional stress, and if you have depleted adrenals, emotional stress will take it's toll, and you will become sick (like me!)

So, these are the things I have learned.  And now I am most fervently following all of the above rules as best I can.

But being sick means being emotional, and being emotional means thinking about my favorite things, and thinking of my favorite things inevitably brings the inevitable... Which is the thought of my non-existent-beautiful-brown-and-white-milk-cow-Annabel.

That's right.

You heard me...

A milk cow.

I really am a city girl, in some ways... I don't know anything about animals or living in the country, or anything agricultural.  I just like the thought of wide open hilly country... green pastures... ponds... fences... dogs... Oh! And... cows. Lots of them... And horses. Lots of horses.

And hats....

And boots....

And everything else...

*drifts off to dream world... smiles lazily*....


I forgot that's not my life.

Cleveland actually is a nice city, when you think about it.  The lawns are green.  There are lots of trees... (And telephone poles.)

I pretend like I'm a cow/country-girl... When, in reality, I'm not.  And that's okay with me.  I like pretending.  I have seven wonderful siblings... (OH! and a sister in law!) we have two cats... three lizards...

Life in the city is nice...

But it's not my favorite thing, and since I'm sick, I'll stick to one of my favorite things... cows....

I did my research today.  I still have no idea how much a calf would cost.  (duh... city girl...) But the Guernsey cows are docile things... they are conformable to any climate.  They produce thick, yellowy milk, that has lots of Vitamin A in it.  And, also, I've read that something in the milk doesn't irritate dairy allergies... it actually soothes the sinuses.  (At least that's what I read.)  They are alert, but not irritable.  And they are oh-so-pretty!

Goats... ehhh... not so much.

But I can just picture it.... (picture with me... close your eyes, and in your mind, imagine everything black... oh, imagine it after you read this, cuz you can't imagine what I'm saying with your eyes closed while you're reading it...)

Black... everything's dark... Then... a streak of light.  Dawn breaks over the beautiful country of Nowheresville.  All that's visible is a faint streak of pink and orange.

Everything is soft and quiet....

Dark hills are outlined by the early morning light....

A milk cow lows softly in the barn... Imagine the barn... the smell of hay... manure....

A young, crazy, wild girl... in pink pajama pants, hoodie, and muck boots three sizes too big... walking sleepily towards the barn, with a black dog by her side....

She goes into the barn, and nuzzles her face against her beloved cow....

Hmm... Something doesn't sound right....

Maybe because when my alarm clock goes off at five in the morning I'll be thinking: "Darn it!! Got to milk that dumb cow again today! Why can't cows milk themselves!! ... just five more minutes..." 


Ruby rolls over lazily and says: "Yeah, love, I know.  I'll milk her... don't worry... don't I always??"

Ruby walks into the barn, staggering very dangerously.  She looks at the cow, her eyes half closed... puffy... swollen... tired....

"Dude, as much as I like you, you're kinda a pain in the back."

*proceeds to milk for an hour.*  Oh, and the dog.  The dog is barking.  The dog doesn't stop barking.  Until I yell at the dog.  "BEOWULF! QUIT THAT!" (not like I'd name my dog Beowulf... or maybe I would...)

She talks to the cow:

"I mean, Annabel, will you ever understand it? I need to wash my hair, and I have four weeks of school I haven't done, the lawn needs to be mowed and somehow I'm the only one that can do it and I think I'm suddenly coming down with something which I'm pretty sure is mad-cow-disease and I'm almost certain I got it from you and you're going to have to have a calf this spring and I'm cold and you don't know what it's like having a nice warm bed with a down comforter and having to wake up to that alarm clock every morning and having to get out of that nice warm bed and I miss flowers.  Do you know what flowers are, Annabel? Of course you do... You ate all ours, I forgot.  Well, at least we both like flowers. That's something in common.  But you like wildflowers.  I think they must taste sweeter.  Maybe if I don't have to milk you every day I'll plant you a whole patch of Forget-Me-Nots.  You know.  Just so you'll remember what I do for you every single morning."

Is that what sounds wrong with it?? It's the confusing thing about your imagination, you never know what reality is like.

But a Guernsey cow! My sweet Annabel, with her thick milk that will turn into butter and what-not!  It's beautiful! It's surreal! (it must be dirty work living on a farm.)

I wonder if I'd like it....

But I've decided, if we ever move to the country, I will make the greatest effort to get a Guernsey cow and name her Annabel.


Annabel Lee died... In a kingdom by the sea... but that was many and many a year ago... And maybe the angels repented.

They shouldn't have sent that cold wind to chill and kill Annabel Lee.  Even if she was in the sepulcher by the sea.

I strongly resent that poem.

Monday, February 1, 2010