Thoughts

From a philosopher of our times, of unrivalled stature:

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and it may be necessary from time to time to give a stupid or misinformed beholder a black eye."

"Never eat more than you can lift."

"Only time can heal your broken heart, just as only time can heal his arms and legs."

~Miss Piggy

And then, from a few others, because it is January:

"When we lose twenty pounds...we may be losing the twenty best pounds we have! We may be losing the pounds that contain our genius, our humanity, our love and honesty." ~Woody Allen

"Inside some of us is a thin person struggling to get out, but they can usually be sedated with a few pieces of chocolate cake." ~Author Unknown

"Avoid any diet that discourages the use of hot fudge." ~Don Kardong

"No diet will remove all the fat from your body because the brain is entirely fat. Without a brain, you might look good, but all you could do is run for public office." ~George Bernard Shaw

"I recently had my annual physical examination, which I get once every seven years, and when the nurse weighed me, I was shocked to discover how much stronger the Earth's gravitational pull has become since 1990." ~Dave Barry

"Flabbergasted, adj. Appalled over how much weight you have gained." ~Author Unknown

"I'm in shape. Round is a shape... isn't it?" ~Author Unknown

"The leading cause of death among fashion models is falling through street grates." ~Dave Barry

"My doctor told me to stop having intimate dinners for four. Unless there are three other people." ~Orson Welles

"She looked as if she had been poured into her clothes and had forgotten to say 'when.'" ~P.G. Wodehouse

Merry Christmas, Mr. Potter's Field!

Comfort ye, comfort ye my people!

For unto us a child is born.

He did not consider equality with God a thing to be grasped, but
Made Himself nothing,
Taking the form of a servant,
Being born in the likeness of men.
And being found in human form,
He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death,
Even death on a cross.

His blood be on us, and on our children.

He became flesh, and dwelt among us,
And we have seen His glory,
Glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.
He was in the world, and the world was made through Him,
Yet the world did not know Him.
He came to His own, and His own people did not receive Him.

His blood be on us, and on our children.

He was despised and rejected by men;
A man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering.
As one from whom men hide their faces,
He was despised,
And we esteemed Him not.

His blood be on us, and on our children.

Surely He has borne our griefs,
And carried our sorrows;
Yet we esteemed Him stricken,
Smitten by God, and afflicted.
But He was wounded for our transgressions;
He was crushed for our iniquities.

His blood be on us, and on our children.

All we like sheep have gone astray;
We have turned every one to his own way;
And the Lord has laid on Him
The iniquity of us all.

His blood be on us, and on our children.

Out of the anguish of His soul He shall see and be satisfied;
By His knowledge shall the Righteous One,
My Servant,
Make many to be accounted righteous,
And He shall bear our iniquities:
Upon Him was the chastisement that brought us peace,
And with His stripes we are healed.

His blood be on us, and on our children.

He has not dealt with us as we deserved,
And whoever comes to Him He will not cast out.

His blood be on us, and on our children.

And we shall sing a new song, saying,

'You are worthy,
For you were slain, and by
Your blood
You ransomed people for God
From every tribe and tongue and people and nation,
And you have made them a kingdom
And priests to our God,
And they shall reign on the earth.'

His blood be on us, and on our children.

Catching at...

Let us see how me can abuse the English today. Or degenerate into "blogtalk" or "Flying Dragon's-office-speak" (no--I'll always have too many words for that, even if they be the wrong ones).

Cousinses (including aunt and uncle)--good. Fun.

Wedding--wonderful. Hannah happy and beautiful and happily and beautifully married.

Brother--good. Nice to have home.

Yes, we went to see relations in a state which shall remain nameless, who were very gracious and hospitable and had a Barnes and Noble dangerously close by.

From there I took my solitary flight to NC, where I and my luggage eventually arrived, and got to participate in all the fun of stuffing rice bags and folding napkins and ironing very large pieces of skirt and folding programs while groomsmen played AOE (just kidding--well, kind of) and trying not to scream too loudly when hair and makeup aren't working and you realize that she's getting MARRIED...and decorating the car and putting her name on the wrong side (oops). I didn't even cry. The ringbearer was most attentive, and has joined my list of I-was-born-too-early-for. I like being a bridesmaid.

But I have decided I shouldn't get married anytime soon--walking down the aisle was scary enough as it was. Trying to maintain tempo and not trip on my skirt and not trip on the white cloth thing and holding my bouquet and smiling was almost too much for me to manage.

The wedding, I thought, was beautiful--focusing on the Lord, and them serving Him together in their marriage. They love each other, and make each other very happy, and the service was very personal. All I could see was the back of the bride's head, but I hear she was glowing. It was cool, too--the pastor spoke the vows in English, and they repeated them to each other in French. They had copies of their vows written out for all the guests to sign as witnesses.

It was far too warm, and we were all tired and hungry. and one bridesmaid almost fainted--which would have been exciting if we hadn't been worried about her ;). The pastor wore an African [whatever it's properly called], and they had a drummer for announcements. Several of the guests wore bright African clothes--there were even some with desert turbans and swords. It made me think a little of heaven, where we will all join in together singing praise to the One Who has redeeemed us to God out of every tribe, and tongue, and people, and nation. The reception hall was decorated with things from Niger, and we ate couscous and dates and olives and other things that I don't know the name for. There was bissap to drink--iced tea brewed with hibiscus, lots of sugar, and a bit of ginger--very good.

I liked our dresses too--light blue knee-length, long-sleeved tops and wrap skirts (panyas, I think), with silver and blue embroidery. The skirt measures from the floor up to about my chin and requires talent to fold (the line must come along the left, or African women will know you don't know what you're doing). Someone asked if my shoes came from Niger, too, to which I replied, "Ross!" The groomsmen all wore silver knee-length tops and silver pants, and sandals with little red pom-pom tassels. Hannah and Abdoulaye wore white, with silver and gold embroidery, and Hannah wore her mother's veil edged with pearls. The flowers were blue--white gladiolas, and delphiniums blue.

And I got to meet so many new friends who understand about missions, and see some of my long-missed school friends and most of the Dragons and Nathan! There were too many people to talk to and not enough time--a lot of that is going to have to wait for heaven.

N and I had a very fun ride home, even though Tennessee was very long and Arkansas quite literally stank. And now he is home, if only for a little while.

Someday I shall be in a place where I can stop saying goodbye. But for now, I have some crying to catch up on.

I grow old, I grow old...

I shall wear my curlers rolled.

Happy (Late) Birthday, Kiddo!

It's been (and is) so good to see you grow (and growing) into the man you are (and are becoming) now. I'm glad we decided to be friends! (miss you.)

Jehovah is My Stay

Love and prayers for Brianne K. and family.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Icy shards of grief
Pricking, piercing unprotected love
When Memory opens accidentally on Now.
I long to cry, but cannot find the tears;
I want to laugh, but can't remember how.

I do not understand.

A wall springs up within a crowd:
Those who know, from those who know no pain;
Averted eyes, a stifled glance, a Red Sea dance
Around me in the hall. The silence of the shroud, preceding me,
Surrounding me, buried
To the world.

I cannot understand.

Living seems the hardest thing of all--
Eating, sleeping, breathing
With Sorrow settled mocking on my shoulder.
If I could only wilt, or fade away, and
Die--
But I am left alive,
To see the world in shades of gray, and wonder--

Why? I will not understand.


But You are still my Counselor, the One
Who takes my hands and leads me when I stumble,
Blinded, up a mountain paved with stones that bruise my heels.

And You are still the Mighty God, the One
Who died, and makes the dead alive,
The end and the Beginning.

My Everlasting Father,
Teaching me to walk again,
Hidden underneath Your wings.

The Prince of Peace,
Who cares for me, and gives me rest,
and guards my heart.

You are Jesus. I stand within
The cleft of Your hand, and see
A nail-shaped scar--
I weep, and laugh, but do not understand.

When I am weak and sad, I cling to this: that
You, Oh God, are strong. And You, Oh God, are loving.

19 degrees

Thanksgiving was lovely, thank you; 18 of us gathered around 3 tables (although this is rather a small group for this area, where everyone I talk to seems to have had more company). A game of 42 was constantly going on, and sometimes more than one--I even joined in one for amateurs. We made short work of all 11 pies, even though there were other leftovers to consider, too. The Dallas Cowboys won, and Texas lost, and the Sooners beat the Cowboys (I know most of y'all don't really care; just interpret: we were happy.) I went for walks in the beautiful fresh 74-degree country air, and sang very loudly in an attempt to prevent any chances of being shot as a deer. I think there were some hunters who were about ready to shoot me to make me be quiet, but they restrained themselves.

Today, however, if it is lovely, is only for the sake of cancelling work and staying inside with Jane Austen and hot chocolate. Every once in a while, I glance out the window to make myself more thankful for not being there. There is white; but most of it is whirling like a snow globe in the hands of an excited two-year old. More than an inch (if that) of our projected 5-8 may be outside, but it won't settle long enough for us to find out. It is enough, though, to cancel school across the state, for companies to tell their employees not to come to work, for us to be thankful we don't have any Canadians around to see the local news coverage that is almost enough to convince one we're in the middle of a blizzard from "The Long Winter." Enough for the Boys to say that they should get out of school (and beg to go outside to play football in the snow--and actually to ask me, drinking hot coffee in my pajamas and slippers under a pile of afghans to go, too--"It's great! You don't have any traction, and you're slipping all over the place..."). Cold enough for me to suggest sending hot chocolate and cookies to the mailman, and too cold for my nice thoughts to be turned into actions. Cold enough that the dog must romp in the snow, and shake himself off when he comes in, curling up on the heater vent or a stack of afghans or the nearest convenient human. Enough, in short, to make me quite certain that summer is my absolutely favorite season. But enough, too, to be quietly happy in the hominess of home in winter.

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(for the many who I am sure miss my bad jokes--or at least miss me (?). I had another one the other day, but alas! It is lost to the world forever, by reason of my having forgotten it. I'm sure it was hilarious...)

Q: What do you call a snowman whose middle section has been over-rolled?

A: An Abdominable Snowman

????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

Winter: My Secret

I tell my secret? No indeed, not I:
Perhaps some day, who knows?
But not today; it froze, and blows and snows,
And you're too curious: fie! You want to hear it? well:
Only, my secret's mine, and I won't tell.

Or, after all, perhaps there's none:
Suppose there is no secret after all,
But only just my fun.
Today's a nipping day, a biting day;
In which one wants a shawl,
A veil, a cloak, and other wraps:
I cannot ope to everyone who taps,
And let the draughts come whistling thro' my hall;
Come bounding and surrounding me,
Come buffeting, astounding me,
Nipping and clipping thro' my wraps and all.
I wear my mask for warmth: who ever shows
His nose to Russian snows
To be pecked at by every wind that blows?
You would not peck? I thank you for good will,
Believe, but leave the truth untested still.

Spring's an expansive time: yet I don't trust
March with its peck of dust,
Nor April with its rainbow-crowned brief showers,
Nor even May, whose flowers
One frost may wither thro' the sunless hours.

Perhaps some languid summer day,
When drowsy birds sing less and less,
And golden fruit is ripening to excess,
If there's not too much sun nor too much cloud,
And the warm wind is neither still nor loud,
Perhaps my secret I may say,
Or you may guess.

~Christina Rossetti

Oklahoma at Oklahoma State, 1:30 p.m. CT

Two aggies were walking down the street, whooping and celebrating. A Sooner fan noticed them, and asked what the big deal was.

"We just put together a puzzle in 3 months!" they answered.

"What's the big deal about that?" the man asked.

"It said 2-4 years on the side!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Q: How do you get an O-State grad off your porch?

A: Pay him for the pizza.

*********************************************************************************

A man walked into a bar and noticed the OSU game was on. The owner's dog was sitting on the counter, watching the game. After a little while, OSU kicked a field goal, and the dog did a backflip. The next quarter, they kicked another field goal, and the dog did another backflip. The man was intrigued.

"What does he do if they score a touchdown?" he asked the owner.

"I don't know," the man replied. "I've only had 'im five years."

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Q: What's an OSU diploma good for?

A: Parking in the handicapped spot.

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3 aggies left the football game, and headed back to their car, only to discover that they had locked the keys in it. They tried breaking into the trunk, and picking the lock, but they couldn't get in. So they were standing around, trying to figure out what to do next, and one of them asked the owner of the car, "what are we gonna do now?"

"I don't know," he replied, "but we need to think of something fast, 'cause it's startin' to rain, and I left the top down."

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A man named Bob went to OSU, but when it came time to graduate, he hadn't completed the required math class. He stuck around to finish, but year after year he failed his math class and couldn't graduate.

Bob became something of a legend on the OSU campus. One year, the president of the school approached him and said, "Bob, we have decided to give you your own special one-question oral math test, and if you pass this, you can graduate." Word got around campus about the test, and it turned into something of an event. Lots of people wanted to come see this, so they made plans to hold the special test in the football stadium.

The day of the test arrived, and the stadium was packed out. The president arrived, and he and Bob walked out to the special platform in the middle of the field and sat down, and everyone got quiet.

"Okay, Bob," the president said, "Here's your question: what is two plus two?"

Bob sat and thought about this, and he thought some more, and finally, slowly, hesitating, he said, "two plus two is...four."

The stadium errupted. People were shouting, and carrying on, and the noise was terrific. A chant broke out, and soon became loud enough that it was clear over the uproar. Pretty soon all the people in the stadium had joined in, chanting "give him another chance! Give him another chance!"

42

Richard Dawkins, Oxford professor, from Time magazine, Nov. 13: “People who believe in God conclude there must have been a divine knob-twiddler who twiddled the knobs of these half-dozen constants to get them exactly right. The problem is that this says, because something is vastly improbable, we need a God to explain it. But that God himself would be even more improbable. Physicists have come up with other explanations…”

[Francis Collins, debating against him, brings up Occam’s Razor, which makes me happy]

later:

Time: “Could the answer be God?”

Dawkins: “There could be something incredibly grand and incomprehensible and beyond our present understanding.”

Collins: “That’s God.”

Dawkins: “Yes. But…”

First, may I say that Dr. Dawkins has more intelligence than I can even imagine. But, given that, does he not seem to be narrowing himself unreasonably? Besides never explaining why God would be more improbable than these "vastly improbable" constants that are necessary for our survival and are in place, Dawkins also accuses his opponent (the man who headed the project that mapped the human genome, if I am not mistaken) of forfeiting his scientific credibility by allowing himself to believe in a supernatural he cannot prove by the scientific method. He assumes, without explanation or argument, science’s right to predominate over all of life.

Please don’t misunderstand me. I think that faith and science, with a small s, work together admirably. I think that what we can see of the world around us, using our wonderful tool, the scientific method, fits marvelously with what we are told of what we cannot see. But even if faith and science were opposed, why ought it to be (arbitrarily?) assumed that science is higher?

I am reminded of this, from G. K. Chesterton's Orthodoxy: “As an explanation of the world, materialism has a sort of insane simplicity…we have at once the sense of it covering everything and of it leaving everything out… [A materialist, like Mr. McCabe] understands everything, and everything does not seem worth understanding. His cosmos may be complete in every rivet and cogwheel, but still his cosmos is smaller than our world. Somehow his scheme, like the lucid scheme of the madman, seems unconscious of the alien energies and the large indifference of the earth; it is not thinking of the real things of the earth, of fighting peoples or proud mothers, or first love or fear upon the sea. The earth is so very large, and the cosmos is so very small. The cosmos is about the smallest hole that a man can hide his head in…”

“The materialist philosophy (whether true or not) is certainly much more limiting than any religion. In one sense, of course, all intelligent ideas are narrow. They cannot be broader than themselves…. But as it happens, there is a very special sense in which materialism has more restrictions than spiritualism….The Christian is quite free to believe that there is a considerable amount of settled order and inevitable development in the universe. But the materialist is not allowed to admit into his spotless machine the slightest speck of spiritualism or miracle. Poor Mr. McCabe is not allowed to retain even the tiniest imp, though it might be hiding in a pimpernel. The Christian admits that the universe is manifold and even miscellaneous, just as a sane man knows that he is complex….But the materialist’s world is quite simple and solid, just as the madman is quite sure he is sane…. Spiritual doctrines do not actually limit the mind, as do materialistic denials. Even if I believe in immortality I need not think about it. But if I disbelieve in immortality I must not think about it. In the first case the road is open and I can go as far as I like; in the second the road is shut.” [emphasis added]

Or this, from J. Budziszewski’s The Revenge of Conscience, explaining why he (formerly) chose to believe in nihilism when he knew his nihilism was self-referentially incoherent: “A sixth reason was that I had come to confuse science with a certain world view, one which many science writers hold but that really has nothing to do with science. I mean the view that nothing is real but matter. If nothing is real but matter, then there couldn’t be such things as minds [Hannah’s note: unless you are an epiphenominalist =], moral law, or God, could there? After all, none of those are matter. Of course, not even the properties of matter are matter, so after awhile it became hard to believe in matter itself. But by that time I was so disordered that I couldn’t tell how disordered I was. I recognized that I had committed yet another incoherence, but I concluded that reality itself was incoherent, and that I was pretty clever to have figured this our—even more so, because in an incoherent world, figuring didn’t make sense either.”

Or maybe just this: “For although they knew God, they neither glorified Him as God nor gave thanks to Him, but their thinking became futile and their foolish hearts were darkened. Although they claimed to be wise, they became fools.” ~Romans 1:21, 22

Happy Thanks-giving.

Happy 99th Birthday!

Oklahoma!
Where the wind comes sweepin' down the plain,
And the wavin' wheat can sure smell sweet
When the wind comes right behind the rain;

Oklahoma!
Ev'ry night my honey lamb and I
Sit alone and talk and watch a hawk
Makin' lazy circles in the sky;

We know we belong to the land
And the land we belong to is grand!
And when we say
Yeeow! Ayipioeeay!
We're only sayin'
You're doin' fine,
Oklahoma!
Oklahoma! O.K.!

I have missed you awfully...

The fans =), the heliotrope dresses and hideous yellow; IM conversations about cheese that no one else would understand, and scandalous quote doors; the pre-performance jitters and Tommy Trafford's song; the dreadful statue of Achilles and the Star of the Garter and the diamond snake brooch and the palm tree and the buttonholes. Tape and pins and fire and ice. Late-night rehearsals and set-painting, and celebrations. Being someone else.

Miss you, ET! Have a wonderful time Cyrano-ing; and I wish I were there!

Happy Birthday Levi!

...a special young man who also happens to be my brother, and has been for the last 14 years. I love you! =)

Dio e buono.

(God is good).

October Living

Gold leaves falling on the ground,
Joining in sweet autumn-sound,
Warm winds swirling sea-deep sky
Rain from lifeless treetops high
Gold leaves falling.

Red leaves shower freely round
Caring not where they are bound,
Seeking life before they die;
Red leaves falling.

Leaves that recent frost has browned
By a better beauty crowned,
Winging down they swiftly fly,
Sing without a halting sigh:
Loving life they finally found;
Brown leaves falling.

"WE'RE ALL...GOING...TO DIE!"

[Happy St. Cripsin's Day]

If we are mark'd to die, we are enow
To do our country loss; and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
It yearns me not if men my garments wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires.
But if it be a sin to covet honour,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England.
God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more methinks would share from me
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made,
And crowns for convoy put into his purse;
We would not die in that man's company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is call'd the feast of Crispian.
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian.'
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say 'These wounds I had on Crispian's day.'
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words-
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester-
Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb'red.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.

-- Wm. Shakespeare, King Henry V

I so deserved that...

I called someone I didn't know today, and a man's voice answered: "Pizza Hut." I laughed. "Is this --'s residence?" And sure enough, it was.

After all, he left out the best part:"will that be dine in, or carry out?"

College for Football Players

COLLEGE ENTRANCE EXAM - FOOTBALL PLAYER VERSION [not mine--credited to Unknown--but an old favorite]
Time Limit: 3 WKS
_________________________________________________________________
1. What language is spoken in France? ____________________________________________________________

2. Give a dissertation on the ancient Babylonian Empire with particular reference to architecture, literature, law and social conditions -OR- give the first name of Pierre Trudeau. ____________________________________________________________

3. Would you ask William Shakespeare to ___ (a) build a bridge ___ (b) sail the ocean ___ (c) lead an army or ___ (d) WRITE A PLAY

4. What religion is the Pope? ___ (a) Jewish ___ (b) Catholic ___ (c) Hindu ___ (d) Polish ___ (e) Agnostic (check only one)

5. Metric conversion. How many feet is 0.0 meters? ____________________________________________________________

6. What time is it when the big hand is on the 12 and the little hand is on the 5? ____________________________________________________________

7. How many commandments was Moses given? (approximately) ____________________________________________________________

8. What are people in America's far north called? ___ (a) Westerners ___ (b) Southerners ___ (c) Northerners

9. Spell -- Bush, Carter and Clinton
Bush: ____________________________________________________________
Carter: ____________________________________________________________
Clinton:____________________________________________________________

10. Six kings of England have been called George, the last one being George the Sixth. Name the previous five. ____________________________________________________________ ____________________________________________________________ ____________________________________________________________ ____________________________________________________________ ____________________________________________________________

11. Where does rain come from? ___ (a) Macy's ___ (b) a 7-11 ___ (c) Canada ___ (d) the sky

12. Can you explain Einstein's Theory of Relativity? ___ (a) yes ___ (b) no

13. What are coat hangers used for? ____________________________________________________________ ____________________________________________________________

14. The Star Spangled Banner is the National Anthem for what country? ____________________________________________________________

15. Explain Le Chateliers Principle of Dynamic Equilibrium -OR- spell your name in BLOCK LETTERS. ____________________________________________________________

16. Where is the basement in a three story building located? ____________________________________________________________ ____________________________________________________________

17. Which part of America produces the most oranges? ___ (a) New York ___ (b) Florida ___ (c) Canada ___ (d) Wisconsin

18. Advanced math. If you have three apples how many apples do you have? ____________________________________________________________

19. What does NBC (National Broadcasting Corp.) stand for? ____________________________________________________________

20. The Cornell University tradition for efficiency began when (approximately)?
___ (a) B.C. ___ (b) A.D.

_________________________________________________________________ Name: ____________________________________________________________ _________________________________________________________________
*You must answer three or more questions correctly to qualify _________________________________________________________________

Gray Day

Gray beauty startled me today. The fairies have run away, my childlike innocent capering world is gone; the world that remains is old and wise. I am wandering alone.

And I, who grow dizzy with giddiness in sunshine, and weep with color in sunsets, am learning to love gray.

("I who so love scarlet
Wear a gown of black,
Quaintly fitted tunic
Buttoned up the back.")

Color has not disappeared, only given up its gaudy frolic. It has grown more deliberate, more careful. The trees have wrapped themselves more closely. Fields' green, red velvet of roads, belongs to them and not to me; even the scarlet splashes of sumac are separate, apart. I neither wish, nor wish not to be, but simply am--alone. There is no lightning or thunder; those would require energy. Only gray and mist.

The sky reminds me of the ocean, our last day together at the beach--do you remember? We strode silently through the sand, our toes and legs numb with the wet cold, without feeling it. Solitude immense as the sea, intense as the waves went with us, walking together. The quiet was so deep I was afraid to breathe, could not look at you.

Now I turn, my Baggins side uppermost, saying I "should have been home yesterday." There are days one wants nothing more than a fireplace and a checkered tablecloth, waiting for someone who will be glad to be home. But that is not what I have now.

I shall have tea and Mendelssohn, and wait in quietness.

O Love that will not let me go,
I rest my wearied soul in Thee;
I give Thee back the life I owe,
That in Thine ocean depths its flow
May richer, fuller be.

O Joy that seekest me through pain,
I cannot close my heart to Thee;
I trace the rainbow through the rain,
And feel the promise is not vain
That morn shall tearless be.

~George Matheson

No es futbol...

This is football. (or, What it was was...football).

I am happy.

Today, along with 84,150 other people (this is more than 2.5 percent of the state population), my father and I watched the Oklahoma Sooners beat the Iowa State Cyclones (whose mascot is a cardinal...) in Norman. It was...well. I was so happy my voice was gone by the end of the first quarter.

I wasn't sure I was going to be able to watch the game at first, because it made me dizzy to look down at the field. I wanted my opera glasses. I'm thinking this was probably the highest I've ever been on a man-made structure. Our section was over the 6th level of parking, and we were about 20 feet up in it (and yes, I know I'm a hick: think of the song from "Oklahoma" where the cowboys are singing, "everythin's up to date in Kansas City/ they've gone about as fur as they could go;/ they went and built a sky scraper seven stories high..."). I felt like I couldn't lean forward, or I might fall and keep falling. But I forgot about that when the team came onto the field. I hope the people sitting around me weren't too annoyed with the noise I made, but really, when 40,000 people are yelling, "Boomer," at you, the least you can do is give a rousing "Sooner!" (sigh. And I suppose most of you still don't understand this.) Being in a crowd like that makes one think a little of the Romans...and what could a mob like that do if they were angry?

Funniest part of the game: when the ref didn't realize his microphone was still on, and looked at a close-to-first down play, and we all heard, "we're gonna have to take a look at that..."

saddest part of the game: (which we didn't know until afterward) A.D.'s injury. Adrian "All Day" Peterson, a.k.a, "The True Freshman," performing in the first game his father was able to come to (for reasons of incarceration) since he was 12, had 183 yards (that's good!). But he also broke his collarbone diving into the endzone (that's bad--it puts him out for the rest of the season).

We got out of the stadium faster than the Romans got out of the Colliseum. The only bad part is that walking with my dad is a little like walking with Helen and MB--I had to jump every two steps--and I was wearing my ridiculous not-made-for-walking (but pretty!) new shoes...and now my feet are rather beat up. And I am tired and happy and hoarse.

Mia Familia

Es loco. I really understand myself better in their context. Witness this conversation from this morning:

Me to L: [stop smirking about something]

L: I'm not smirking!

Me: You most certainly are! That's a textbook example of a smirk!

L: You should know. You're the queen of smirking.

Me: does that make me the smirqueen? I can't very well be a king...

C: well, if you ever meet a man who's king of the smurs, you'll know he's for you.

Me: nobody loves me.

L: your coffee loves you!

Me: no, because I drink it.

L: It likes to be drinken, drunk, drank...

Me: it shouldn't be drunk, because then it gets tipsy and spills all over me [my dad's still making fun of me for spilling a whole cup all over myself one Sunday morning...it's not for nothing my name means grace]

or last night, when we were comparing the infamous Curby eyebrows (I hope Josiah has recovered by now. pobre tomate.) My dad certainly has the wiggliest, and he is also the only one who is ambi-eyebrowed. And he is the only person I know who can wiggle his eyebrows and laugh while whistling the theme from the Andy Griffith show, thereby making any opponent lose his concentration entirely. and (almost) the only person who can make me blush on command.

and evidently the furry with the syringe on the top has joined the ranks of the Arab Texan by the name of Hep Usef and the large urban shopping centers...

sometime I'll have to explain Harry and Hair Back on the Air (or maybe have them on as guests...), but right now I'm too confused. How did I end up related to these people?