the youth venture kids: they have got so much stinkin' personality it's not even funny. Except that it is funny. It's actually ridiculously funny. Last night went from singing lullabies to a girl who was trying to sleep on the couch, to figuring out what names we looked like besides our actual given ones, to getting my car washed out back, to "Do you want to hear a riddle? Okay, I'm going to a picnic and I'm bringing a black balloon. What are you bringing? ... Nope, you can't bring that. Nope, not that either."
Remember those riddles? I remember going through that phase around fourteen. It's fun watching these kids go through all the phases we did when we were younger. Like magic tricks. We were in love with magic tricks for like a month in junior high. It must have hit the current eighth grade a few weeks ago, because every kid at youth venture suddenly had a deck in their back pocket at all times and "Pick a card, any card," became the most overused phrase.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Guess what I got?
Photoshop Elements 6.0, baby!
I had to dip into the tax money prematurely, but so far it's so totally worth it. Pictures will never be the same again. And I've been reading up on the Photoshop Friday tutorials on Jessica Sprague's blog and created this scrapbook page after a good hour of "Huh?" (Apparently bringing elements onto a page in PSE is much different than Digital Image Suite and can completely change the course of directions.)
E-mailing to you, Jess.
Currently watching: Gilmore Girls Season 7
Currently eating: Fresh & Easy Frozen Berries (on steroids, these berries look like pinecones)
I had to dip into the tax money prematurely, but so far it's so totally worth it. Pictures will never be the same again. And I've been reading up on the Photoshop Friday tutorials on Jessica Sprague's blog and created this scrapbook page after a good hour of "Huh?" (Apparently bringing elements onto a page in PSE is much different than Digital Image Suite and can completely change the course of directions.)
E-mailing to you, Jess.
Currently watching: Gilmore Girls Season 7
Currently eating: Fresh & Easy Frozen Berries (on steroids, these berries look like pinecones)
Friday, March 28, 2008
Monday, March 24, 2008
Today I was thinking...
I love quotes.
And while I was thinking about how much I love them, and how I should start collecting them somehow, either here on my blog or just saving them as they come to my computer, one of my all-time favorite passages from a book came to my mind. It's not really a topical quote, just a quote from a book, so it won't make much sense unless you've read the book (and few people have, and so many more need to), but let me tell you, when you've read through the whole Anne of Green Gables series and get to these few paragraphs on one of the last pages of the final book, you can't help but just start crying because they are so beautiful!
So, from book seven of the Anne of Green Gables series, Rilla of Ingleside:
One spring day, when the daffodils were blowing on the Ingleside lawn, and the banks of the brook in Rainbow Valley were sweet with white and purple violets, the little, lazy afternoon accommodation train pulled into the Glen station. It was very seldom that passengers for the Glen came by that train, so nobody was there to meet it except the new station agent and a small black-and-yellow dog, who for four and a half years had met every train that had steamed into Glen St. Mary. Thousands of trains had Dog Monday met and never had the boy he waited and watched for returned. Yet still Dog Monday watched on with eyes that never quite lost hope. Perhaps his dog-heart failed him at times; he was growing old and rheumatic; when he walked back to his kennel after each train had gone his gait was very sober now--he never trotted but went slowly with a drooping head and a depressed tail that had quite lost its old saucy uplift.
One passenger stepped off the train--a tall fellow in a faded lieutenant's uniform, who walked with a barely perceptible limp. He had a bronzed face and there were some grey hairs in the ruddy curls that clustered around his forehead. The new station agent looked at him anxiously. He was used to seeing the khaki-clad figures come off the train, some met by a tumultuous crowd, others, who had sent no word of their coming, stepping off quietly like this one. But there was a certain distinction of bearing and features in this soldier that caught his attention and made him wonder a little more interestedly who he was.
A black-and-yellow streak shot past the station agent. Dog Monday stiff? Dog Monday rheumatic? Dog Monday old? Never believe it. Dog Monday was a young pup, gone clean mad with rejuvenating joy.
He flung himself against the tall soldier, with a bark that choked in his throat from sheer rapture. He flung himself on the ground and writhed in a frenzy of welcome. He tried to climb the soldier's khaki legs and slipped down and groveled in an ecstasy that seemed as if it must tear his little body in pieces. He licked his boots and when the lieutenant had, with laughter on his lips and tears in his eyes, succeeded in gathering the little creature up in his arms Dog Monday laid his head on the khaki shoulder and licked the sunburned neck, making queer sounds between barks and sobs.
The station agent had heard the story of Dog Monday. He knew now who the returned soldier was. Dog Monday's long vigil was ended. Jem Blythe had come home.
Tears, tears, tears. Every time. And that is why Lucy M. Montgomery is one of my heroes. When you can get someone to cry over five paragraphs no matter how many times they've read them, you've got the stuff.
If you have never read the whole series, DO IT. You can skip Anne of Windy Poplars. (It's pretty boring and closely resembles the movie version of Anne of Ingleside (which in no way tells the real book story of Anne of Ingleside, FYI) without the little love story between Anne and the one guy. That's completely made up for the movie, so don't believe the lies.)
And while I was thinking about how much I love them, and how I should start collecting them somehow, either here on my blog or just saving them as they come to my computer, one of my all-time favorite passages from a book came to my mind. It's not really a topical quote, just a quote from a book, so it won't make much sense unless you've read the book (and few people have, and so many more need to), but let me tell you, when you've read through the whole Anne of Green Gables series and get to these few paragraphs on one of the last pages of the final book, you can't help but just start crying because they are so beautiful!
So, from book seven of the Anne of Green Gables series, Rilla of Ingleside:
One spring day, when the daffodils were blowing on the Ingleside lawn, and the banks of the brook in Rainbow Valley were sweet with white and purple violets, the little, lazy afternoon accommodation train pulled into the Glen station. It was very seldom that passengers for the Glen came by that train, so nobody was there to meet it except the new station agent and a small black-and-yellow dog, who for four and a half years had met every train that had steamed into Glen St. Mary. Thousands of trains had Dog Monday met and never had the boy he waited and watched for returned. Yet still Dog Monday watched on with eyes that never quite lost hope. Perhaps his dog-heart failed him at times; he was growing old and rheumatic; when he walked back to his kennel after each train had gone his gait was very sober now--he never trotted but went slowly with a drooping head and a depressed tail that had quite lost its old saucy uplift.
One passenger stepped off the train--a tall fellow in a faded lieutenant's uniform, who walked with a barely perceptible limp. He had a bronzed face and there were some grey hairs in the ruddy curls that clustered around his forehead. The new station agent looked at him anxiously. He was used to seeing the khaki-clad figures come off the train, some met by a tumultuous crowd, others, who had sent no word of their coming, stepping off quietly like this one. But there was a certain distinction of bearing and features in this soldier that caught his attention and made him wonder a little more interestedly who he was.
A black-and-yellow streak shot past the station agent. Dog Monday stiff? Dog Monday rheumatic? Dog Monday old? Never believe it. Dog Monday was a young pup, gone clean mad with rejuvenating joy.
He flung himself against the tall soldier, with a bark that choked in his throat from sheer rapture. He flung himself on the ground and writhed in a frenzy of welcome. He tried to climb the soldier's khaki legs and slipped down and groveled in an ecstasy that seemed as if it must tear his little body in pieces. He licked his boots and when the lieutenant had, with laughter on his lips and tears in his eyes, succeeded in gathering the little creature up in his arms Dog Monday laid his head on the khaki shoulder and licked the sunburned neck, making queer sounds between barks and sobs.
The station agent had heard the story of Dog Monday. He knew now who the returned soldier was. Dog Monday's long vigil was ended. Jem Blythe had come home.
Tears, tears, tears. Every time. And that is why Lucy M. Montgomery is one of my heroes. When you can get someone to cry over five paragraphs no matter how many times they've read them, you've got the stuff.
If you have never read the whole series, DO IT. You can skip Anne of Windy Poplars. (It's pretty boring and closely resembles the movie version of Anne of Ingleside (which in no way tells the real book story of Anne of Ingleside, FYI) without the little love story between Anne and the one guy. That's completely made up for the movie, so don't believe the lies.)
Friday, March 21, 2008
Friday, February 29, 2008
Victory, the Weather, and Organic Eating
That's right, a triple feature today, folks.
Well, I made it through Tuesday night without the drugs. Yippee! Then made it all the way through work and then even small group on Wednesday night with just a few twinges of headache to let me know yes, it was still there, but not raging a full on attack in my head. But by the time I got home I could tell the war was about to start again, so I took the naproxen I'd been carrying in my pocket all day, just in case. And now it's 11am on Friday and I'm sitting pretty, so progress has been made, if not a miraculous healing.
The weather: what the heck!?!? Sunny, cold, sunny, cold. How am I supposed to know how to dress myself in the morning if each day is a surprise? We're on cold today, which is a disappointment because we have a work lunch scheduled today and I was really looking forward to sitting outside for an hour and a half in the great weather from the last two days. But nope! It's cold out there. Cold and gray.
Now, organic eating. I've decided there might be something to it. So I researched some yesterday and decided that, while I'm not going full on organic (I like my ranch dressing with my raw carrots), I am going to try to seek it out when possible. And I'm going to try to eat better from here on out, and cut way back on my beloved (and seemingly needed to function) coca-cola. So for breakfast this morning I had a nice start of an organic orange and a handful of tropical trail mix. I was going to throw in the runt banana from the bunch I bought yesterday, but wasn't feeling that much food that early, plus I didn't want to be full for the work lunch. And you know what? I already feel healthier. :)
At least, I don't feel an obsessive need for a coke to wake me up right now.
Well, I made it through Tuesday night without the drugs. Yippee! Then made it all the way through work and then even small group on Wednesday night with just a few twinges of headache to let me know yes, it was still there, but not raging a full on attack in my head. But by the time I got home I could tell the war was about to start again, so I took the naproxen I'd been carrying in my pocket all day, just in case. And now it's 11am on Friday and I'm sitting pretty, so progress has been made, if not a miraculous healing.
The weather: what the heck!?!? Sunny, cold, sunny, cold. How am I supposed to know how to dress myself in the morning if each day is a surprise? We're on cold today, which is a disappointment because we have a work lunch scheduled today and I was really looking forward to sitting outside for an hour and a half in the great weather from the last two days. But nope! It's cold out there. Cold and gray.
Now, organic eating. I've decided there might be something to it. So I researched some yesterday and decided that, while I'm not going full on organic (I like my ranch dressing with my raw carrots), I am going to try to seek it out when possible. And I'm going to try to eat better from here on out, and cut way back on my beloved (and seemingly needed to function) coca-cola. So for breakfast this morning I had a nice start of an organic orange and a handful of tropical trail mix. I was going to throw in the runt banana from the bunch I bought yesterday, but wasn't feeling that much food that early, plus I didn't want to be full for the work lunch. And you know what? I already feel healthier. :)
At least, I don't feel an obsessive need for a coke to wake me up right now.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Headaches and Such
So I've had this crazy headache since two Sundays ago. So crazy that it wasn't letting me sleep, and wasn't responding to Ibuprofin at all. Fortunately, I found Aleeve on Thursday and it works like a charm, and even more fortunately, my roommate happens to have some 500 mg's of Naproxen (the major component of Aleeve) leftover from having her wisdom teeth pulled, which she has graciously offered to me in my discomfort. And it's been an okay week; I just pop another pill as soon as I feel the one before wearing off.
The problem is I don't like being dependent on modern medicine, and I don't want to jack up my system with these things. So tonight I plan to go cold turkey. I haven't had the drugs since 9:30 this morning, and I'm still doing pretty good at 9:30 at night, with a slight bout of pain around 5pm, andI'm going to try to get through the night without the darn things. Good luck to me.
(I don't foresee this experiment working past midnight, but at least I now have documented evidence that I did try to get off the drugs.)
The problem is I don't like being dependent on modern medicine, and I don't want to jack up my system with these things. So tonight I plan to go cold turkey. I haven't had the drugs since 9:30 this morning, and I'm still doing pretty good at 9:30 at night, with a slight bout of pain around 5pm, andI'm going to try to get through the night without the darn things. Good luck to me.
(I don't foresee this experiment working past midnight, but at least I now have documented evidence that I did try to get off the drugs.)
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