Some of you have already seen this, but I don't care. This is to share, just a bit of fun.
There is a dream in everyone, young and old, that doesn’t meet the common occurring thoughts of Earth. A little something in everyone’s hearts pleads to never grow old, never get tired, and be carefree and humble. The weary often dream that they could fly away to a place where they can enjoy the limitless ends of their imagination, and stay away from the idleness of everyday worries. They watch others who always seem to have fulfilled their quest for happiness, but then think that true happiness can’t possibly be reached by anyone mortal. Few have found the solution, and many of that few have decided that the solution wasn’t what they needed, because they didn’t see it for what it was.
But, as one should see, the imagination can be used in several different ways. It lets us see our handsome young faces smiling at us in the mirror, in a beautiful home the way we would like it, in a paradise land set with numerous adventures and discoveries left just for us. Almost like opening a capturing book and finding ourselves sucked inside and caught in the plot and surrounded by wonderful creatures and people. This is the dream that many may not know exists in each human heart, but they may realize it very soon.
The imagination can also make us sulk. But that is why it has many uses; so that the sulky thoughts can be lifted by happy thoughts.
Happy thoughts. The things that make us feel like flying, that make us feel lighter than the air we breathe. There is one person who knows quite a bit about the great effect of happy thoughts, and sulky ones. And he is the one who has solved his problem.
The wind fingered through his hair delicately as he glided through the sky, searching with a keen eye for the house number fourteen. Dancing across the great orb-like moon, he began to count the houses backward. Twenty-six, twenty-five, twenty-four…twenty-one…. He scoured down the street to be sure he was going the right way; it was still quite dark outside. Then he found the large window with the balcony that looked down into the house garden, the window closed, the white drapes hanging sullenly after waiting a year. Landing softly, he peered in through the glass and tried to see as much as he could, but the drapes obscured his view. With a slight push and a refreshing gust from the wind, the shutters opened peacefully and silently, and the drapes flew up in joy. Funny, he had to stoop down now to get inside the room.
He watched the blankets rise up and down as she breathed peacefully in her sleep, probably dreaming about mermaids or fairies. He could tell it was something nice by the serene smile on her face as the wind from the open window blew a cool draft through the room. Looking around the nursery, he was actually a little surprised to still see dolls and little horses and letter blocks, but a beautiful instrument case he’d not detected before rested against the wall. Now his mother would play him music!
Breathing in, he inhaled the memories that were stored in this room, good and bad. He was glad to see his shadow was now very attached to him, unlike those many years ago, when he’d tried to stick it back on with soap. And the many girlish giggles that had at first made him feel inferior to little Wendy Darling. And flying with John and Michael, and having Wendy as his first real mother. He crawled on top of the blankets as he usually did, and went psst.
“Hey,” he whispered softly into the girl’s ear. “Jane, wake up.” The auburn head stirred in knowing, a slow groan emitting from her throat.
“It’s that time of year again,” he said, still in a low voice. She wiggled. And then he woke her up. “Spring cleaning!” Peter cried, flying up into the air. Jane sat up, a groggy smile still on her lips.
“Oh, the best time of the year,” he sang. “When Mother’s always here. It’s time for spring cleaning, Jane!” Peter landed skillfully on the floor right in front of the bed, staring straight at her, wearing his goofy grin. Jane just sat there and laughed. Peter liked it when Jane laughed.
“Peter Pan,” she said seriously, smiling warmly in greeting. “You’ll never stop being the boy you are.” Peter frowned.
“What’s wrong with that?” he asked.
“Nothing.” She said, shrugging. “It’s what I love about you!” And with that she leaped off the bed and gave Peter a great hug. Then suddenly Jane stepped back in surprise.
“What?” Peter said, immediately alarmed. “Jane, what’s wrong?” She looked up at him.
“Peter, I think you’re taller than me.” She now looked down at his grubby, bare feet.
“What ho? Taller, am I?” he cried, putting his hands on his hips and looking down at his own toes now, too.
“Here, let me see you stand up straight.” He began to puff up his chest, looking proud. Jane shook her head at his silliness. “No, no, let’s stand back to back.” She turned around so she was facing the opposite direction. Peter didn’t get the gist. Continuing to look down, he cleared his throat.
“Jane, what are you doing?”
“You’re supposed to turn around too.”
“Oh,” he said, and promptly turned around like Jane had said. He felt Jane touch the back of his head with her hand as if she were measuring, and then they both turned back to each other.
“Peter, I was right,” she told him. “You’re much taller than I am now. At least three inches.”
“Well, how tall are you?” Peter wondered.
“Oh, I’m not sure. I’m a normal size for my age. Oh goodness, am I seventeen now? Oh, Peter, I feel old—” Peter instantly covered her mouth with his hand before she could finish. He was suddenly very scared. She stared back, wide-eyed, knowing she shouldn’t have said anything.
“How old is seventeen?” he asked tentatively. Jane understood his fear. She knew that he had suffered from learning of her mother’s growing up too late after it had happened.
“Well,” she began nervously. “Peter, seventeen is pretty old. It means that I’ll grow up in a year.” Stroking his hair gently she looked him in the eyes, trying to comfort him. But nothing helped.
“No!” he cried. “You’re not supposed to grow up! I thought you would stay young, for Wendy, because she didn’t!” It wasn’t a normal boy’s whining anymore, though. Jane could tell something was different.
“I’m sorry, Peter, but I don’t live in Neverland all the time.”
“Well, then come with me now and stay there forever,” he said with conviction. “Come on, Jane. That way you can’t grow up.” Jane looked at him, knowing he only wanted a good mother, because he had ran away from his own. But she also knew that she couldn’t simply abandon the rest of her family.
“But what of my mother, Peter?” Jane begged. “I know she hurt you, but would you hurt her back?”
“What do you mean?” Peter asked in confusion.
“Oh, you remember when she showed that she was grown up, and you began to cry.”
“And that’s when you said, ‘Boy, why are you crying,’ remember? How would I be hurting Wendy?”
“By taking me off to Neverland just so I won’t grow up.”
“Do you mean that you want to grow up? Jane, you can’t!” Jane shook her head exasperatedly.
“No, Peter, that’s not what I meant at all.”
“Then what did you mean?” he asked. Jane sighed.
“I meant that it would break my mother’s heart to see me leave, and my father doesn’t even know everything about you and Neverland, so he would get worried. And they have so wanted me to make more friends in school, Peter. All the other girls laugh at me for wanting to play with toys still and I’m often caught daydreaming. Peter, they only want me to enjoy my life down here.” He began to bow his head, trying not to cry. “Oh, Peter! You see, it’s very complicated. I very much wish to stay in Neverland, I really do, but sometimes I think that I would only break everyone else’s hearts. Mother already wants me to forget you.” Suddenly she covered her own mouth, knowing that she’d made a mistake.
“Wendy wants what?” he said incredulously, infuriated, whispering. Jane could do nothing now. She watched him sit down like the big child he was and cuddle inside his knees, and listened as he started to sniffle and sob. Kneeling beside him, Jane put her arm around him.
“Peter,” she whispered softly. He stuffed his head deeper into his knees. “Do you want a kiss?” He almost put his head up, but then burrowed it further into his cave.
“How would that help?” he moaned in a muffled tone. “Thimbles work better.” Jane sighed exasperatedly. No matter how many times she had explained to him that her mother had curiously switched the meaning of the two words when she was younger, Peter either didn’t care or still didn’t understand. “Fine,” Jane said, and she kissed his forehead cradling his head like a mother should.
“Jane,” Peter muttered.
“Yes?”
“If I’m taller than you, how old am I?” The question shocked her.
“Peter, you never get older. You stay in Neverland! How could you ask a thing like that?”
“Aren’t tall people old? Aren’t they grown up, like Wendy? She’s tall.”
“Well, I couldn’t rightly say that. There are plenty young people who are taller than most would be. Why Uncle Michael seems a giant to me still. And he was that big when he was sixteen…. Oh dear.” Peter had pushed away.
“I don’t want to be sixteen! You’re already seventeen, Jane! What if I am growing up? What if Neverland doesn’t work anymore?” Silly as the words sounded, the thoughts were too alarming now; Jane knew they were.
“You know what, Peter. I think that this is too much grown up talk and I want it to stop now. We should be thinking happy thoughts, so we can fly and do spring cleaning. Wouldn’t that be great?” She stroked his head. “Come on, now, Peter. I’m your mother still, and I always will be.” Being the inner child that he was, even though he didn’t know that he really was older, Peter nodded, satisfied, and stood erect.
“I wish I could have seen Tinker Bell, Peter.” Jane sighed. “You need another fairy.”
“I wish I could remember Tinker Bell, Jane. I do need another fairy. But you and I know how to fly even without pixie dust. Think happy thoughts and find the second star to the right and straight on till morning!” And just like a very young girl, Jane did her childish thing and cried “Yea!”
Some thought she was so very strange for being seventeen and pretending she was ten years younger, in spite of all the schooling she was so brilliant at. But Jane didn’t care; she actually laughed at the girls who tried to look ten years older, and enjoyed every moment of her youth, except when she was made fun of for it. She was happy right now, thinking happy thoughts of mermaids and fairies and Indians with Peter Pan, knowing that her imagination was closer to her than anything else.
“Oh, the cleverness of me!” Peter cried in his usual cocky way, putting his fists on his hips in a proud manner. “I know exactly how to get out of grown up talk when flying to Neverland is what I am trying to do.” Jane just looked at him and said sarcastically,
“And I did nothing at all, of course.”
“Oh, well you helped. A little.” He said, not seeming to want to give any credit to her.
“You are the most cocky, most forgetful boy I will ever have met—I will ever have known.” Jane mocked him. He simply puffed up his chest and smiled proudly as he prepared to soar into the clouds.
Before she even knew it, Jane had gone up into the sky and circled Big Ben as she always did, thinking of how wonderful it was just to fly on a cool spring night. Her smile grew even wider as she watched Peter somersault and corkscrew in the air, or lie down as if on a flat surface and lazily float around while suddenly pulling an acrobatic trick or another every once in a while. They both flew further up into the sky until Peter cried, “Head on!” which meant that they needed to go straight forward and on to morning.
Jane streaked through the night air and was dazzled to see the familiar colors dance in her eyes until the royal blue of midnight was a rainbow of bright greens and oranges and reds and yellows and many other splendors. The pretty flashes of light were like being inside a kaleidoscope. Looking down she saw the great ocean and the island she had only been imagining for a year; now she was there, she was back. She could see the mermaids’ lagoon, the Indian village, and the wood where Peter had his hidden home. It surprised her that a ship was anchored at the other side of the island, facing Marooner’s Rock. Peter gestured her to head downward, into the forest. They floated just above the trees until Peter darted inside a sudden hole in the top of an old, gnarled stump that couldn’t have been anything else: the home underground. Jane felt as if she were almost sucked inside rather than gone inside on her own. But she felt sure and exhilarated.
Jane had returned to Neverland.
A great crowing filled the room as Peter was somersaulting around the room in the air, bursting with energy and his pure, boyish, innocent joy. Jane remembered her mother saying something to her when she was young about how people forgot how to fly when they were no longer gay and innocent and heartless. Peter would never forget, as long as he was just that. And Jane knew that he always would be, whether it seemed he was growing up physically or not. Peter landed and stood before her.
“Come, Jane,” he demanded in a funny tone. “We must get to work. It is due time that the spring cleaning has begun!” Giggling, she instantly found the broom and started sweeping all over the place. The broom was also used as a duster, and so the handle had been cut slightly shorter so that it didn’t scrape things. She found some difficulty adjusting to it again, having grown her last bit during the year of waiting. Jane smiled as she swept around the many bunks and hammocks still there in memory of the Lost Boys. They were all grown up now, just like her mother. All of them had done it, her adopted uncles; become a lord, a justice, and many other things that they wouldn’t have wanted to be if they hadn’t left Neverland.
“So Peter,” Jane said. “What great adventures have you had since the last spring cleaning?” Peter, who was going through boxes of old trinkets, and all of his past ‘kisses’, didn’t get a chance to answer before hitting himself in the head by a wooden horse he was throwing over his shoulder. Yelping, he turned around and rubbed the side of his head.
“I have a new Captain Hook,” he said matter-of-factly.
“A new Hook? Peter, that’s not possible. You killed him not too long after you met Mother.” Jane knew about the ship, but she also knew that James Hook was dead; her mother had seen it happen.
“I know that. That’s why this one is new. She’s a Captain Josephine Hook.” She? Josephine? Jane didn’t quite understand. Peter had returned to organizing boxes.
“Peter, really, what are you trying to tell me?” she said.
“Well, Hook had a little sister, and now she’s a pirate. And she’s just as mean as he was. Maybe even meaner, but I can handle that still.”
“Don’t tell me you tried to cut off her right hand, too.” Jane joked.
“I already did.” Peter stated casually. Jane stared at him for a moment, bewildered. And then she began to laugh a little.
“Well,” she said. “Where’s the crocodile?” Peter shrugged.
“Chewing on the clock somewhere. He didn’t get to eat her hand this time. I just sort of threw it into the ocean, and I guess it must have been eaten by some other fish or drowned.”
“Hands don’t drown, Peter, they sink.” Jane told him seriously.
“Oh.” Even if he was taller than her now, and maybe perhaps Jane’s own age, Peter still had so much to learn. “Jane?”
“Yes, Peter?” she eyed him quizzically.
“I want to call all of the Lost Boys back, but the Lost Boys are gone.”
“Oh, I know, Peter,” Jane said sadly. “But maybe we’ll find more. There has to be some runaways who haven’t been claimed for nearly a week. Maybe when we’re done cleaning we shall go and look for some.”
“But I need to get a new fairy first, because the fairies are best at finding them.”
“Where do they live?” Peter scratched his head.
“I forget.”
“Oh, Peter,” Jane moaned. “Some day you’ll stumble upon a fairy nest and think it’s a bird’s nest. Maybe you could try to lure one here with Tinker Bell’s old negligee. Should we try?”
“I don’t know, Jane. You can try, but when I find one, I’ll tell you when you can stop.” Jane’s jaw dropped in awe.
“Peter! You little scoundrel!” She threw a pillow from one of the bunks at him. He smiled teasingly at her, blocking the fluffy thing with his hand. Jane swore if he acted like this to other girls her age they would have either slapped him or instantly fallen at his knees. And then, she did think that as he was very handsome, the latter would have happened more likely. Oh, what to do with a charming, cocky, innocent, boyish, tall person? That was all Jane could describe him as now.
“You didn’t really tell me about your adventures, Peter. You only said that there was a new Hook.” She said.
“Oh, well, not much. I think I did tell you. I cut off Hook’s hand. Josephine’s, I mean. And I remembered that it was the right one the first time, so now she looks just like her brother, except she’s a woman.”
“How did you get into a fight with her, Peter?”
“She was being just like her brother and she kidnapped Tiger Lily. I guess the princess had been caught trying to sabotage something and they were enjoying her punishment.” He seemed to be cheering for the princess on the inside, like he approved of her actions full heartedly. Jane got the idea. Tiger Lily would probably have married him by now if Peter weren’t still so young.
“How did you save her this time?” Jane asked.
“I used my old trick.” Peter shrugged again. Then he began to tell his narrative, using exciting gestures and flying all over the room in excitement of his triumph. “She-Hook was riding in to the rocks on this little rowboat with old Smee and Tiger Lily, as I flew in among the rocks above them. I made not a sound, because I’m Peter Pan.” Jane giggled at his cockiness. She watched him as he flew around the home, reenacting the story joyously. “And then I began to pretend that her brother was in the rock, and I made voices, sounding like the ghost of old James Hook. Smee got very scared; he might have wet his trousers! I told old Josie that her brother was a codfish. ‘No, James, you were never a codfish to me!’ she said, thinking that his ghost was insulting himself.
“And then I said, ‘Yes, I was a codfish, and so are you!’ This time she got suspicious. ‘Who are you?’ she said, and I replied, ‘I am your brother, I’m afraid. What a pity I came to be. My enemy was not worth fighting against.’ At this she became cross and inquired, ‘You had an enemy, brother?’ ‘Aye,’ I said. ‘What kind of enemy? Spirit?’ she said. ‘No.’ I answered. ‘Person?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Man?’ ‘No!’ ‘Child?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Boy?’ ‘Yes.’ She sounded really confused there, when she heard my answer at that. ‘Just an ordinary boy?’ she said, and I could tell she thought her brother was a fool. ‘NO!’ I cried. And then she said, ‘An extraordinary boy. Who can be such a boy?’ And then I finally told her, after making her go through that tedious guessing game. ‘His name is Peter Pan.’
“But She-Hook was smarter than I had predicted and she had come up behind me. But because I used my ears, I was quick to react, so I turned around and fought her while I was lying on my back, and I almost fell off the rock I was perched on. But then she lifted her sword, thinking that she could just finish me off, right there, and I rolled off and flew back up. Her face looked funny when she got surprised; you should have watched us, Jane. She stood there just like a codfish and I slashed her hand off and it fell down into the water while she screamed. You girls scream very loud, you know. I had to cover my ears for a second.”
“I don’t suppose you want to hear me scream any time, do you?” Jane joked.
“No, that wouldn’t be very nice.” Peter murmured quickly.
“Anyway, I pointed my sword at her chin and said, ‘Unhand the princess ye foe!’ in my best big voice. But somehow she had managed to grab her sword as it was falling and she countered me again. But a Hook, even a She-Hook, can never beat me. I had almost cut off her other hand when Tiger Lily made a weird noise because she began to go under water; Smee had chained her up on the rock, you see. So I went down to get her when I saw the mermaids coming in, and they started to throw rocks and shells at She-Hook. That’s how I made my way out quietly while the two pirates were trying to dodge seashells and I brought Tiger Lily home. The chief was very proud of me and he had a big celebration with us. I almost thought I saw a fairy peeking in at our party.” Jane giggled, and then turned very serious.
“You should have tried to catch that fairy.” She told him. He landed with his hands on his sides and simply replied, “Maybe, Mother.”
They returned to their earlier duties of cleaning the home, and when Jane had dusted every corner Peter’s eye could scour, which was a surprisingly keen search for undusted areas, they cheered lightly and then became silent. Peter suddenly perked up.
“Let’s spy on the ship and see what that She-Hook is up to now!” he suggested enthusiastically. Jane agreed and they began to climb out of the home. The two of them smiled as their ears feasted on the noises of the animals and the birds rushing about their day. Jane walked out into the bright sunshine that peeped in through the trees and breathed deeply, closing her eyes in ecstasy. Then just as quickly as she’d begun to hear it, the noise abruptly stopped, was snatched away by something, and Jane opened her eyes in surprise. Turning around, she saw only Peter behind her, looking equally puzzled and bewildered. They listened closely, and looked around carefully, for anything that might betray the presence of something sinister. For a short moment, something chirped, and then was hushed, which made both of them jump. The silence did not suit the usually happy forest, and this made Peter and Jane furrow their brows with great concern. But Peter then bluntly shrugged his shoulders and motioned Jane to follow him as he lifted into the air.
Saturday, December 29, 2007
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Hmmm....
You KNow? I really don't tell you guys very much about me anymore. Maybe I should have put that in my poll. And even though some of the pictures I've taken can be a little old, I'll just show you what I've got. But first, I must wish you all Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year! And then I have whatever news I can think of.
And first ting I think of is the Christmas Concert that took place last Sunday at the Marysville Stake building, and that was really cool. I played in a string ensemble and accompanied the choir on the very last song. But the highlight of the evening was when Jennifer Thomas accompanied on the piano with a friend who was a soprano on O Holy Night. It was so pretty and so powerful that I cried, right there in the front row, sitting between the two boys I was going to play with not long after this song. I was actually as little scared that I wouldn't get myself together in time to play our song because after the soprano came one song from the choir and then we were on, but I was so touched I was in hysterics. But I did fine. And there are definitely hopes for next year's successful performance, this being only our third annual Christmas concert and already blowing away crowds with the talent and the wonderful, powerful arrangements, just think of the future! So that was basically the big family night (it was also my dad's birthday).
And then Monday became really hectic once I got home from school. Go to violin lesson, and then go shopping for gifts and to find the Chronicles of Narnia soundtrack that I've been wanting forever!!!! My mom cut it really close and I was a few minutes late for Everett Youth Symphony, even though no one said anything about it. I was fairly peeved when I got there, but thanks to the girl I was sitting next to, Stefanie, I was cheered up. She kept digging into her purse because there was a bag of Hugs in there that she was eating out of, and a cd fell out once while she was doing this. It turned out to be Riverdance, and she offered to give it to me. Of course, I asked if she had her own copy at home before just taking it because for a second I was kind of caught off guard by the offer. But anyway, I got it, but because it was so scratched up I could only get half of the songs to play. What I have is still good, though. So then everyone there said goodbye for the holidays and my mom took me out for MORE shopping. I was starting to get really piqued then, until we finally found everything we needed and went home. So I left the house at 3:00 and got home at 9:30. And I didn't any homework done. I crashed.
I really don't remember much about Tuesday because it was pretty uneventful, but Wednesday was band night. Me and my dad always go to Lake Stevens to practice, because thats where our drummer lives. This brings out Ed from Camano Island, and I don't know where Dave lives, but he's Nate's (drummer) brother. And then Liz is Nate's wife, and then me and my dad. I'll just rattle off who plays what: Nate- drums, Ed- lead guitar, Dave- rhythm guitar, Evan (dad)- bass guitar, Liz- extra percussion, Me- keyboards, and we all trade off singing, but Liz sings most often, so I guess she would be the lead singer. But on nights hen she's trying to handle the kids, I try to fill in, even though I have to admit, I can't sing classic rock. Now, just plain classical music and folk and jazz are fine, but I would actually need a good deal of voice lessons for rock to ever happen. It was cool at the start because the missionaries were over and me and my dad knew one of them because they had been in our area for a long time before he transferred. And it was fun to play Jump while he was going out on the drumset for a few minutes. He's good at the drums too, maybe not like Nate, but good enough to get his own band going once he came from his mission.
So we had fun and I got home at 11:00 and instantly crashed (I didn't even change out of my clothes). Thursday was just that kind of day where everyone's bouncing in their chairs because school's almost out for the break and no one can wait. And Friday turned out to be satisfactory. At seminary, we had a really good breakfast (even though I didn't eat too much because I'd already had my normal bowl of cereal). I collected a ton of candy because I hadn't had time to pack a lunch and that was my only chance to get something to eat because I was, and still am, basically broke, thanks to Monday. And then after PE I changed into my real Christmas spirit, which I don't have a picture of, but it looked really cool when I wasn't carry a backpack and purse. In band and science, we did nothing but party and exchange Secret Santa gifts. I got the fuzzy blue socks I'm wearing right now, two Caramello bars (I'm saving one for Christmas, but it's really HARD), and The Beautiful Letdown by Switchfoot. I already had the cd, but the guy who gave it to me, Nate (a really troubled but really sweet guy that basically calls me his sister) couldn't find the receit for me to return it so I'm going to figure out what I going to do with it. If he finds it after break and gives it to me, that'll be fine. And after school I practically messed around until we went to the church Christmas party.
Now, let me tell you about the Christmas party. There was a a small band playing, one guy on guitar, and then a brother and sister who would switch off on fiddle and the brother also played mandolin, the girl also played flute. Strangely enough, I already knew the brother and sister from before. From where? From the old building that Old Time Fiddlers was held at, in an old grange that was bought out about two years ago. When I began going there, the brother was the child fiddle prodigy and his sister was the follow-up. I remember his name is Toby, but I forget her name. My dad recognized them first last night because he'd seen the dad every time I went. But for some reason they just stopped coming altogether, and then the grange was bought and everyone was ousted into the old Arlingotn High School building. But, small world, there those kids were playing for everyone to enjoy before and after the actual program began. I'd forgotten that Toby is actualy younger than me, because he totally looks sixteen, but he's actually fourteen. It was pretty cool to talk to the family afterward while my dad took down all the sound equipment (he's the sound guy for everything, I swear). Eden's friend Jessica kept on getting up on how I should totally flirty and scare the crap out of myself pretty much, but it was fine just talking like I normally do. My parents did their old 'brga about Madison' trip on them, even though I think they just though it was cool that I was just as interested in Celtic music as they were. They didn't seem proud; actually the dad kept telling me to keep up the fiddle until we all had to leave. But it was almost literally like a time warp to the past. Toby still plays better than I do, but then, I need to get out of my whacked up state and start practicing more. So yeah, last night was cool. And then Eden, Jessica and I watched Tristan and Isolde (which I would rather have not wanted to watch, now that I've seen it) and we all spent another hour trying to fall asleep afterwards. So that explains why I'm not at church practicing with the choir right now and writing this post instead. :D!
And you know what? this post is long enough to read, so I'll scare you with the load of pictures later. Now you are spared. BYE!
And first ting I think of is the Christmas Concert that took place last Sunday at the Marysville Stake building, and that was really cool. I played in a string ensemble and accompanied the choir on the very last song. But the highlight of the evening was when Jennifer Thomas accompanied on the piano with a friend who was a soprano on O Holy Night. It was so pretty and so powerful that I cried, right there in the front row, sitting between the two boys I was going to play with not long after this song. I was actually as little scared that I wouldn't get myself together in time to play our song because after the soprano came one song from the choir and then we were on, but I was so touched I was in hysterics. But I did fine. And there are definitely hopes for next year's successful performance, this being only our third annual Christmas concert and already blowing away crowds with the talent and the wonderful, powerful arrangements, just think of the future! So that was basically the big family night (it was also my dad's birthday).
And then Monday became really hectic once I got home from school. Go to violin lesson, and then go shopping for gifts and to find the Chronicles of Narnia soundtrack that I've been wanting forever!!!! My mom cut it really close and I was a few minutes late for Everett Youth Symphony, even though no one said anything about it. I was fairly peeved when I got there, but thanks to the girl I was sitting next to, Stefanie, I was cheered up. She kept digging into her purse because there was a bag of Hugs in there that she was eating out of, and a cd fell out once while she was doing this. It turned out to be Riverdance, and she offered to give it to me. Of course, I asked if she had her own copy at home before just taking it because for a second I was kind of caught off guard by the offer. But anyway, I got it, but because it was so scratched up I could only get half of the songs to play. What I have is still good, though. So then everyone there said goodbye for the holidays and my mom took me out for MORE shopping. I was starting to get really piqued then, until we finally found everything we needed and went home. So I left the house at 3:00 and got home at 9:30. And I didn't any homework done. I crashed.
I really don't remember much about Tuesday because it was pretty uneventful, but Wednesday was band night. Me and my dad always go to Lake Stevens to practice, because thats where our drummer lives. This brings out Ed from Camano Island, and I don't know where Dave lives, but he's Nate's (drummer) brother. And then Liz is Nate's wife, and then me and my dad. I'll just rattle off who plays what: Nate- drums, Ed- lead guitar, Dave- rhythm guitar, Evan (dad)- bass guitar, Liz- extra percussion, Me- keyboards, and we all trade off singing, but Liz sings most often, so I guess she would be the lead singer. But on nights hen she's trying to handle the kids, I try to fill in, even though I have to admit, I can't sing classic rock. Now, just plain classical music and folk and jazz are fine, but I would actually need a good deal of voice lessons for rock to ever happen. It was cool at the start because the missionaries were over and me and my dad knew one of them because they had been in our area for a long time before he transferred. And it was fun to play Jump while he was going out on the drumset for a few minutes. He's good at the drums too, maybe not like Nate, but good enough to get his own band going once he came from his mission.
So we had fun and I got home at 11:00 and instantly crashed (I didn't even change out of my clothes). Thursday was just that kind of day where everyone's bouncing in their chairs because school's almost out for the break and no one can wait. And Friday turned out to be satisfactory. At seminary, we had a really good breakfast (even though I didn't eat too much because I'd already had my normal bowl of cereal). I collected a ton of candy because I hadn't had time to pack a lunch and that was my only chance to get something to eat because I was, and still am, basically broke, thanks to Monday. And then after PE I changed into my real Christmas spirit, which I don't have a picture of, but it looked really cool when I wasn't carry a backpack and purse. In band and science, we did nothing but party and exchange Secret Santa gifts. I got the fuzzy blue socks I'm wearing right now, two Caramello bars (I'm saving one for Christmas, but it's really HARD), and The Beautiful Letdown by Switchfoot. I already had the cd, but the guy who gave it to me, Nate (a really troubled but really sweet guy that basically calls me his sister) couldn't find the receit for me to return it so I'm going to figure out what I going to do with it. If he finds it after break and gives it to me, that'll be fine. And after school I practically messed around until we went to the church Christmas party.
Now, let me tell you about the Christmas party. There was a a small band playing, one guy on guitar, and then a brother and sister who would switch off on fiddle and the brother also played mandolin, the girl also played flute. Strangely enough, I already knew the brother and sister from before. From where? From the old building that Old Time Fiddlers was held at, in an old grange that was bought out about two years ago. When I began going there, the brother was the child fiddle prodigy and his sister was the follow-up. I remember his name is Toby, but I forget her name. My dad recognized them first last night because he'd seen the dad every time I went. But for some reason they just stopped coming altogether, and then the grange was bought and everyone was ousted into the old Arlingotn High School building. But, small world, there those kids were playing for everyone to enjoy before and after the actual program began. I'd forgotten that Toby is actualy younger than me, because he totally looks sixteen, but he's actually fourteen. It was pretty cool to talk to the family afterward while my dad took down all the sound equipment (he's the sound guy for everything, I swear). Eden's friend Jessica kept on getting up on how I should totally flirty and scare the crap out of myself pretty much, but it was fine just talking like I normally do. My parents did their old 'brga about Madison' trip on them, even though I think they just though it was cool that I was just as interested in Celtic music as they were. They didn't seem proud; actually the dad kept telling me to keep up the fiddle until we all had to leave. But it was almost literally like a time warp to the past. Toby still plays better than I do, but then, I need to get out of my whacked up state and start practicing more. So yeah, last night was cool. And then Eden, Jessica and I watched Tristan and Isolde (which I would rather have not wanted to watch, now that I've seen it) and we all spent another hour trying to fall asleep afterwards. So that explains why I'm not at church practicing with the choir right now and writing this post instead. :D!
And you know what? this post is long enough to read, so I'll scare you with the load of pictures later. Now you are spared. BYE!
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Hey-Ho! Another spoiler for all of you!
I really don't know why, but I thought it would be interesting if I wrote a story in journal style. So I did. But, I'll have to say, this excerpt really doesn't give too many clues on the rest of the plot, so enjoy what I have so far of the intro.
Klave-Rand 7; 1,722
Before I tell of my day, I want to give a description of how I received this diary. I go it only yesterday, so telling this shouldn’t be long. Though, I should mention, I do go into detail as if I were writing a book.
I stood in the hip yard in my coat and bonnet, my hands in gloves holding onto my two carrying bags. Sniffing the air, first I wrinkled my nose in disgust, then I breathed in the fresh feeling of the ocean. The ocean was always new, always changing. There was never the same salt in the same place, never the same fish, because everything in the ocean moved. Just like me. I was moving, changing, at that very moment. I would miss living in Lovence, but I had welcomed the idea of sailing to Peventry. My mother began straightening my coat.
“Now remember,” she began, already sounding like she would start bursting into tears, with a pinch of fussiness. “You are going to be living in the finest palace there is. Here, let me retie your bonnet.” She loosed the bow and continued. “The king, I believe, will be teaching you fencing, so do your best to behave politely and be ladylike when you’re not sparring with him. And—” she finished the bow and smiled. “Don’t be embarrassed lest you ever beat him.” I laughed.
“Yes, mama,” I replied. She patted my cheek lovingly, which only made her chin tremble. I could see how hard she was trying to control her emotions; no tears were flowing yet. The foghorn on the boat bellowed so loudly I almost though the sound was tangible. It seemed to push through my veins, telling me it is time to go. I suddenly felt slammed against a rush of joy and a rush of sorrow, and thankfully I was able to embrace my mother before we both went hysterical. I’d always been good at keeping my true emotions under control, even masked. One of the few masteries I’d made during all of my lessons. Ugh! Being a princess should seem frightful to other girls.
“Drieda, dear,” my mother said. “I have a few things for you before you go.” I watched expectantly as she produced a small carrying bag lined with velvet and held closed by a drawstring. She opened it and first pulled out this diary. “I know that it looks old and heavy, but I would that you record your experiences in here. It became mine when I was eighteen, so the same shall be to you.” I began to thank her, but she stopped me and continued. “This book is as old as your great-grandmother and there have been diaries before for generations. Please take care that you never lose it. Write in it often, but you’re not required to make an account of each day that passes. And that is not all.” Handing me the diary, she then took out a bottle of perfume.
“Oh!” I cried. “Mother, I already have—”
“This is not to use on yourself,” she said firmly. I was quieted and listening. “I can’t explain it all now, but if you are ever in trouble, this will aid you. One last thing.” She put the perfume back in the bag and produced two envelopes; one of a normal parchment color, the second was dyed red. “I will give the details of all these things in the first letter you receive from me. I’ve not the time to explain everything now. The bells are calling you in!” In fact they were. I kissed my mother goodbye, took my things, and boarded. My mother’s tears ran silently as the ship began to move on. I need to sleep now; I’ll continue this entry later.
Early Morning, Klave-Rand 8; 1,722
I thought that sailing would be miserable overnight, but my good rest proved me wrong. This assures me that I’ll enjoy the next three months, though I will feel lonely. But loneliness can always be mended! I naturally arise early in the morning. My body falls asleep before the blue is gone from the sky, and it wakes with the sun. I’d probably make a better farmer’s daughter than a princess. People of the court are lazy when it comes to time. All except I.
I guess I should return to what I was telling before. I forgot to mention that my brother had come to bid me farewell also, but he had left before the scene I described. I am glad, though. Mother had to force him to kiss me goodbye, and even then it was a heartless peck on my cheek. He never believed that I should be any good for any kingdom. On no, Drieda Firensa could never rule, but all hail Great King Gordic Hanzal! Ha! And may I repeat his farewell to me? “I hope you can at least keep the dirt off your boots.” I have never met a more immature, impossible, impertinent pest! Undeniably, I shall serve Peventry well, whether I wed one of their noblemen or not.
That is one thing that frightens me about leaving Lovence. I may not have a choice in whom I marry, and my choice most definitely would not have suited. For you see, I liked to be with one of the stable boys, Joabr. He seemed to be the only man throughout the whole palace who knew how to enjoy life. And I’d rather learn to fence from him than the king of Peventry. Certainly a middle-aged man wouldn’t show such grace and poise as Joabr. And the king most definitely can’t be as handsome and charming.
Klave-Rand 11; 1,722
I’ve neglected writing in here for the past few days because I was reading my mother’s story of how she met my father. I wish I could have seen him. He died in battle even before I was born. My first clothes were black, even the blanket I was nursed in. but by the account of my mother he was sweet and handsome. She always said I had his eyes, even the same sparkle he once had. Gordic says that I have the same will to be different, which feels like a small compliment, but all the more of an insult to both father and me. Gordic never regarded anyone highly, though, except himself. It boggles me to think that he’s been king for nearly five years since he turned eighteen. I wouldn’t be in the nearest interest to serve under him for any longer than that.
Oh, goodness, my horrid grammar! I made all that as one body, what a shame! My mind is so scattered in the afternoon; I’ve been forgetting to control my train of thought since I boarded the ship. I guess I must stop here.
Klave-Rand 13; 1,722
What a pigeon I’ve been! I’ve been on this ship for a week and I only just realized that most of what I have been eating is fish! I used to hate fish as a child, but now I don’t mind a bit at all.
I don’t know why, but it makes me think of Joabr. Maybe because he treated the horses with apples and carrots all the time, and none of them got tired of it.
Oh, Joabr was my best friend, and he’ll always hold that title for me. Even though he’s only a year older than I, he proved to be my best teacher. I learned fencing, horseback riding, dancing, and even a few basics about sewing from him. That is only a handful of what he taught. Also, he taught me how to speak Singuine, Butanyan, and Kartekkan, the most beautiful languages yet few others in Lovence teach it.
I especially liked dancing with him because he didn’t abuse it and he respected me. Hardly a guard in our palace could be given the same compliment. But I think he taught me to dance for the same reasons I wanted to learn. It was grace that stopped Gordic from intervening with our lessons. He wouldn’t believe us even if we swore that there was no affair between us. I would say there might have been a great attraction between us, but neither of us came forward with it. I regret that now; it should break Joabr’s heart to believe that I may not like him, and I’m going off to choose a husband of Peventry. I should stop myself before I lose control.
Klave-Rand 26; 1,722
Oh, that conniving little brat! Where has my diary been? That little twerp of a ship’s boy found it beside my bunk and took it to Lord knows where, and decided he’d read what he can. Being a poor child and only eleven, it took him nearly two weeks to go through the end of my mother’s views, and then all of mine! And then once he finished what did he do? The brat gallivanted around the ship teasing me about having such a rude older brother and accused me for being ‘all over the stable boy’. Is that not enough to drive a young girl mad?! Oh, the impertinence of some people.
So beside that problem, I found out from the captain that I might be allergic to dust. Dust! Such a small, insignificant, silly thing that can’t do anything for itself can hurt me! Yes, one would think I already knew this fact, but the housemaids in our palace can’t stand having the knowledge of anything filthy anywhere in the place, even the dungeons, which are seldom used. I would say every speck of dust was lost to every feather duster that prevailed them. So therefore, Lovence was thoroughly clean, if not sterile. But as for me, I have not been accustomed to it and so my immunity is weakened against it. Which would explain the rash I’ve begun to acquire around my neck, arms, and legs. One of the crew’s men said I blushed redder, but it was only a way to make me imagine the problem as a blessing. I’d rather my complexion were naturally red than infectiously colored.
But aside from all of the bad news, one of the navigators found a short cut to Peventry through a strait. So as long as the ship isn’t blown completely off course, then I will be able to arrive in Peventry in a short month. If we hadn’t found this strait then I would have had another two months to go while we detoured around Jirke’dissa’s peninsula. So I will be happy to write to my mother about my early arrival and learn all the things about all her gifts to me.
I still wonder about them. I can understand why she gave me the diary, but the perfume and the envelopes I haven’t found clarity on yet. I tried to sniff the perfume once while I was alone in my cabin and I think I must have fainted because all the memory I have of that moment is smelling something dreadfully odious and then opening my eyes to find myself on the floor and a few hours had passed. All I could understand about it was that the perfume could knock out an opponent, but it didn’t defeat them instantly. Anyone who read this might think that while an enemy was unconscious I could easily kill them, but that itself is dishonorable.
I believe I must say goodnight, because that’s all that I can think of right now to say. So, goodnight, diary.
Klave-Rand 7; 1,722
Before I tell of my day, I want to give a description of how I received this diary. I go it only yesterday, so telling this shouldn’t be long. Though, I should mention, I do go into detail as if I were writing a book.
I stood in the hip yard in my coat and bonnet, my hands in gloves holding onto my two carrying bags. Sniffing the air, first I wrinkled my nose in disgust, then I breathed in the fresh feeling of the ocean. The ocean was always new, always changing. There was never the same salt in the same place, never the same fish, because everything in the ocean moved. Just like me. I was moving, changing, at that very moment. I would miss living in Lovence, but I had welcomed the idea of sailing to Peventry. My mother began straightening my coat.
“Now remember,” she began, already sounding like she would start bursting into tears, with a pinch of fussiness. “You are going to be living in the finest palace there is. Here, let me retie your bonnet.” She loosed the bow and continued. “The king, I believe, will be teaching you fencing, so do your best to behave politely and be ladylike when you’re not sparring with him. And—” she finished the bow and smiled. “Don’t be embarrassed lest you ever beat him.” I laughed.
“Yes, mama,” I replied. She patted my cheek lovingly, which only made her chin tremble. I could see how hard she was trying to control her emotions; no tears were flowing yet. The foghorn on the boat bellowed so loudly I almost though the sound was tangible. It seemed to push through my veins, telling me it is time to go. I suddenly felt slammed against a rush of joy and a rush of sorrow, and thankfully I was able to embrace my mother before we both went hysterical. I’d always been good at keeping my true emotions under control, even masked. One of the few masteries I’d made during all of my lessons. Ugh! Being a princess should seem frightful to other girls.
“Drieda, dear,” my mother said. “I have a few things for you before you go.” I watched expectantly as she produced a small carrying bag lined with velvet and held closed by a drawstring. She opened it and first pulled out this diary. “I know that it looks old and heavy, but I would that you record your experiences in here. It became mine when I was eighteen, so the same shall be to you.” I began to thank her, but she stopped me and continued. “This book is as old as your great-grandmother and there have been diaries before for generations. Please take care that you never lose it. Write in it often, but you’re not required to make an account of each day that passes. And that is not all.” Handing me the diary, she then took out a bottle of perfume.
“Oh!” I cried. “Mother, I already have—”
“This is not to use on yourself,” she said firmly. I was quieted and listening. “I can’t explain it all now, but if you are ever in trouble, this will aid you. One last thing.” She put the perfume back in the bag and produced two envelopes; one of a normal parchment color, the second was dyed red. “I will give the details of all these things in the first letter you receive from me. I’ve not the time to explain everything now. The bells are calling you in!” In fact they were. I kissed my mother goodbye, took my things, and boarded. My mother’s tears ran silently as the ship began to move on. I need to sleep now; I’ll continue this entry later.
Early Morning, Klave-Rand 8; 1,722
I thought that sailing would be miserable overnight, but my good rest proved me wrong. This assures me that I’ll enjoy the next three months, though I will feel lonely. But loneliness can always be mended! I naturally arise early in the morning. My body falls asleep before the blue is gone from the sky, and it wakes with the sun. I’d probably make a better farmer’s daughter than a princess. People of the court are lazy when it comes to time. All except I.
I guess I should return to what I was telling before. I forgot to mention that my brother had come to bid me farewell also, but he had left before the scene I described. I am glad, though. Mother had to force him to kiss me goodbye, and even then it was a heartless peck on my cheek. He never believed that I should be any good for any kingdom. On no, Drieda Firensa could never rule, but all hail Great King Gordic Hanzal! Ha! And may I repeat his farewell to me? “I hope you can at least keep the dirt off your boots.” I have never met a more immature, impossible, impertinent pest! Undeniably, I shall serve Peventry well, whether I wed one of their noblemen or not.
That is one thing that frightens me about leaving Lovence. I may not have a choice in whom I marry, and my choice most definitely would not have suited. For you see, I liked to be with one of the stable boys, Joabr. He seemed to be the only man throughout the whole palace who knew how to enjoy life. And I’d rather learn to fence from him than the king of Peventry. Certainly a middle-aged man wouldn’t show such grace and poise as Joabr. And the king most definitely can’t be as handsome and charming.
Klave-Rand 11; 1,722
I’ve neglected writing in here for the past few days because I was reading my mother’s story of how she met my father. I wish I could have seen him. He died in battle even before I was born. My first clothes were black, even the blanket I was nursed in. but by the account of my mother he was sweet and handsome. She always said I had his eyes, even the same sparkle he once had. Gordic says that I have the same will to be different, which feels like a small compliment, but all the more of an insult to both father and me. Gordic never regarded anyone highly, though, except himself. It boggles me to think that he’s been king for nearly five years since he turned eighteen. I wouldn’t be in the nearest interest to serve under him for any longer than that.
Oh, goodness, my horrid grammar! I made all that as one body, what a shame! My mind is so scattered in the afternoon; I’ve been forgetting to control my train of thought since I boarded the ship. I guess I must stop here.
Klave-Rand 13; 1,722
What a pigeon I’ve been! I’ve been on this ship for a week and I only just realized that most of what I have been eating is fish! I used to hate fish as a child, but now I don’t mind a bit at all.
I don’t know why, but it makes me think of Joabr. Maybe because he treated the horses with apples and carrots all the time, and none of them got tired of it.
Oh, Joabr was my best friend, and he’ll always hold that title for me. Even though he’s only a year older than I, he proved to be my best teacher. I learned fencing, horseback riding, dancing, and even a few basics about sewing from him. That is only a handful of what he taught. Also, he taught me how to speak Singuine, Butanyan, and Kartekkan, the most beautiful languages yet few others in Lovence teach it.
I especially liked dancing with him because he didn’t abuse it and he respected me. Hardly a guard in our palace could be given the same compliment. But I think he taught me to dance for the same reasons I wanted to learn. It was grace that stopped Gordic from intervening with our lessons. He wouldn’t believe us even if we swore that there was no affair between us. I would say there might have been a great attraction between us, but neither of us came forward with it. I regret that now; it should break Joabr’s heart to believe that I may not like him, and I’m going off to choose a husband of Peventry. I should stop myself before I lose control.
Klave-Rand 26; 1,722
Oh, that conniving little brat! Where has my diary been? That little twerp of a ship’s boy found it beside my bunk and took it to Lord knows where, and decided he’d read what he can. Being a poor child and only eleven, it took him nearly two weeks to go through the end of my mother’s views, and then all of mine! And then once he finished what did he do? The brat gallivanted around the ship teasing me about having such a rude older brother and accused me for being ‘all over the stable boy’. Is that not enough to drive a young girl mad?! Oh, the impertinence of some people.
So beside that problem, I found out from the captain that I might be allergic to dust. Dust! Such a small, insignificant, silly thing that can’t do anything for itself can hurt me! Yes, one would think I already knew this fact, but the housemaids in our palace can’t stand having the knowledge of anything filthy anywhere in the place, even the dungeons, which are seldom used. I would say every speck of dust was lost to every feather duster that prevailed them. So therefore, Lovence was thoroughly clean, if not sterile. But as for me, I have not been accustomed to it and so my immunity is weakened against it. Which would explain the rash I’ve begun to acquire around my neck, arms, and legs. One of the crew’s men said I blushed redder, but it was only a way to make me imagine the problem as a blessing. I’d rather my complexion were naturally red than infectiously colored.
But aside from all of the bad news, one of the navigators found a short cut to Peventry through a strait. So as long as the ship isn’t blown completely off course, then I will be able to arrive in Peventry in a short month. If we hadn’t found this strait then I would have had another two months to go while we detoured around Jirke’dissa’s peninsula. So I will be happy to write to my mother about my early arrival and learn all the things about all her gifts to me.
I still wonder about them. I can understand why she gave me the diary, but the perfume and the envelopes I haven’t found clarity on yet. I tried to sniff the perfume once while I was alone in my cabin and I think I must have fainted because all the memory I have of that moment is smelling something dreadfully odious and then opening my eyes to find myself on the floor and a few hours had passed. All I could understand about it was that the perfume could knock out an opponent, but it didn’t defeat them instantly. Anyone who read this might think that while an enemy was unconscious I could easily kill them, but that itself is dishonorable.
I believe I must say goodnight, because that’s all that I can think of right now to say. So, goodnight, diary.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
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