Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Poetry for Thought
Oh, summer has clothed the earth In a cloak from the loom of the sun! And a mantle, too, of the skies' soft blue, And a belt where the rivers run. And now for the kiss of the wind, And the touch of the air's soft hands, With the rest from strife and the heat of life, With the freedom of lakes and lands. I envy the farmer's boy Who sings as he follows the plow; While the shining green of the young blades lean To the breezes that cool his brow. He sings to the dewy morn, No thought of another's ear; But the song he sings is a chant for kings And the whole wide world to hear. He sings of the joys of life, Of the pleasures of work and rest, From an o'erfull heart, without aim or art; 'T is a song of the merriest. O ye who toil in the town, And ye who moil in the mart, Hear the artless song, and your faith made strong Shall renew your joy of heart. Oh, poor were the worth of the world If never a song were heard,— If the sting of grief had no relief, And never a heart were stirred. So, long as the streams run down, And as long as the robins trill, Let us taunt old Care with a merry air, And sing in the face of ill. ~ Paul Dunbar |
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
Pictures of the Week
He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High
Will abide in the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say to the Lord, "My refuge and my fortress,
My God in Whom I trust!"
For it is He who delivers you from the snare of the trapper,
And from the deadly pestilence.
He will cover you with His pinions,
And under His wings you may seek refuge;
His faithfulness is a shield and bulwark.
~Psalm 91: 1-4
Monday, July 23, 2012
Saturday, July 21, 2012
Pictures of the Week
I will lift up my eyes to the mountains;
From where will my help come?
My help comes from the Lord,
Who made heaven and earth.
He will not allow your foot to slip;
He who keeps you will not slumber.
~Psalm 121:1- 4
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
The Glad, Golden Days of Summer
We’re halfway through summer already, and it feels like I
haven’t gotten anything done. School, my very last few months of school, is
threateningly close (the last time, though. Ha!) and auditions are coming up.
Not only do I have to audition, but three of my siblings do, too. So they have
to be prepared.
What have I been doing all summer? Laundry, mostly. I’ve
moved mountains of it, trying to catch up by doing six or seven loads a day.
The wasps and I have a slight disagreement over the clothesline zone, so
hanging up the wash is a little dangerous. I’ve finally gotten the endless
stream from my brother’s room under control (oh, and something wet just flew up
against the window. I wonder what they’re doing with their spare time?).
I’ve also been making stuff to sell at the Farmer’s Market,
and playing violin at our table. I actually got my first “gig” there, as
somebody among the listeners asked me to play at an event in August.
The other day, one of my brothers managed to step on a rusty
nail and drive the thing right to his bone. After letting off a railway-style
shriek, he booked it for the house and got a nice trip to the ER. Funny how my
brothers can scream at a pitch higher than I. Needless to say, he got several
days off from chores and sat in the living-room like a little tyrant, ordering
his siblings around. One of his subjects rebelled and gave him a nice earful of
dishwater. I won’t say who, though it wasn’t me.
I’ve been trying to do a lot of writing this summer, but
haven’t really accomplished much. I’m still polishing up my Nano novel, Tempered,
which had to be renamed The Listeners because of major, unexpected plot developments.
When I finish up that, I’m going to start working on a story that I made up for
my siblings, called The Motley Four. It was inspired by Edith Nesbit’s The
Story of the Treasure Seekers and the sequels, The Wouldbegoods and The
New Treasure Seekers. Those books always had me shaking with laughter when
I was younger. Also in the works is a collection of short stories, only a few
of which I have mapped out. “Survival of the Fittest”, “The Glass Heart”, “Weaving
Words”, “The Paperback City”, and “The King’s Champion” are the only ones I’ve
got typed up. If anyone’s interested, I could stick some up one of these days. Most
of them are written for my siblings’ amusement.
I actually want to be reading a bit more this summer. It
seems like I haven’t gotten my hands on much, though I did read quite a few
classics earlier in the year. Wuthering Heights (which, I thought, was
kind of ridicules. All of the characters were downright nasty people, and there
was no redemption or character-reformation involved), Jane Eyre, The Adventures
of Sherlock Holmes, re-read Pride and Prejudice, The Cat of Bubastes,
all of the Anne of Green Gables books that I have, snagged a bit of
Shakespeare, and worked through everything that I have of Edith Nesbit’s, which
amounts to nine books. I also re-read The Hobbit because Jesse had
gotten it from the library and I caught it lying around. Also stole some of Dad’s
commentaries.
I suppose that the last few months haven’t really been
uneventful, but they felt quieter than they usually are. There’s been plenty of
time to play violin, read, think, and do housework. The garden is coming along
nicely, the cow is about ready to calf, and the stupid goats snapped one of our
apple tree saplings in half. I tried to tie it upright to a bar, so hopefully
it will just grow back together. I’ve heard of grafting branches, so maybe this
will work, too.
And now, I really need to get off this thing so I can finish
the day’s laundry.
Dia, mo chara
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Poetry for Thought
An interesting find from an old English book of mine, though I don't agree with everything he writes:
When Earth’s last picture is painted, and the tubes are
twisted and dried,
When the oldest colours have faded, and the youngest critic
has died,
We shall rest, and, faith, we shall need it---lie down for
an eon or two,
Till the Master of All Good Workmen shall set us to work
anew!
And those who were good shall be happy: they shall sit in a
golden chair;
They shall splash at a ten-league canvas with brushes of
comet’s hair;
They shall find real saints to draw from---Magdalene, Peter,
and Paul;
They shall work for an age at sitting and never be tired at
all!
And only the Master shall praise us, and only the Master
shall blame;
And no one shall work for money, and no one shall work for
fame;
But each for the joy of working, and each, in his separate star,
Shall draw the Thing as he sees It for the God of Things as
They Are!
~Rudyard Kipling
Monday, July 16, 2012
Music of the Week
(I have to admit, when the Greek and Roman stuff showed up, I started laughing. Supposedly the person used them because they are tall and impressive, 'cause those people didn't know much about freedom. This video was better than most of the others, though.)
Friday, July 13, 2012
Pictures of the Week
For He has not despised nor abhorred the affliction of the afflicted;
Nor has He hidden His face from him;
But when he cried out to Him for help, He heard.
~Psalm 22:24
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Monday, July 2, 2012
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