Free Day #2

Today my accomplishments included dressing cute to go grocery shopping, making homemade granola, starting plant cuttings of eight plants, oiling and polishing my sword, and finishing my first SCA garb skirt. I highly doubt that this exact to-do list has ever been assembled before. I also did normal things like sweeping, vacuuming, and laundry, and later I'll do normal things like exercise and watch a movie. But I'll be doing as much of that as possible in my SCA garb of a full skirt, makeshift chemise, and borrowed bodice. That's unusual.

Update: it is now later, and I have made a normal dinner, cleaned up like a tidy girl, and sat down with a bag of popcorn and the newer version of the movie of "Pride and Prejudice" to wait for Josh to get home and skype. All in all a good day.

As you may have noticed (I'm not sure who "you" even is at this point, if they exist), I changed my blog background again. I'm rather fond of this whole new realm of font options. I'm just waiting for the day when uploading your own background actually works. But that doesn't matter much if I can't salvage my thousands of pictures that I lost when I destroyed my hard-drive not too long ago. This theme is a summery one, because it's becoming summery outside. Yes, it's going to be less than 50 Fahrenheit when I go to work in the morning, but it will be 90 on Sunday. But I digress and ramble. Hopefully within the next few weeks I'll have interesting things to say about my first real SCA event, my brother's graduation, and work, along with posting some of the many reviews I've started. Who knows? I may even finally get around to taking good pictures of my summer apartment and posting them.

Current view of blog for future reference:

Why do I like storms?

I'm currently sitting in the stairwell of my apartment building looking up granola recipes and waiting for our fourth or fifth tornado warning of the day to pass. And with the way things have been going since 9:00, as soon as 11:00 (the current end time for the warning) approaches the warning will be renewed. It certainly is fierce out there.

Today I got to thinking about why I like storms. I think it's similar to why I like heights and various other things. I've become convinced that I like storms because I'm secretly afraid of them. Just afraid enough to get my adrenaline pumping, but not afraid enough to have me cowering in a corner. I'm an adrenaline junkie when it comes to physical danger. There is something in me that craves the twinge of fear and hungers after the thrill of pushing it aside because the exhilaration brings a certain joy and simply because I can.

But it's not just the smidgen of fear that makes storms so great; their terrible power adds a whole new level of beauty. Heights are fear-inducing because you might fall, but it's not as if the height is trying to hurl you against the earth (usually). A storm, however is not just a passive possibility. It is very much alive and very much angry. Such as display of power, with breath-taking rush of wind, heart-stopping crash of thunder, eye-dazzling bursts of lightning, and ear-filling frenzy of rain, inspires a captivating awe. I just can't turn away. And so I sit and watch and listen in exhilaration until I fall asleep or am called by responsibility or - if I'm lucky - the storm runs its course. Because I'm just enough nervous to be all the more excited and happily overwhelmed.

P.S.: Observe also that I have once again changed my background.

Spring, Please Hurry Up

This may have been the longest, greyest, snowiest winter I've ever experienced. We didn't see the grass up here at Purdue from Thanksgiving through mid-February. With the wind chill keeping things down in the teens or single digits for daytime highs, most of the winter has also been rather cold. Yes, I know, there are colder, greyer places to spend the winter, but there's a reason I'm not living in one of them.

Last week we got a nice warm spell with days up to fifty degrees. It was grand. I even got to wear a skirt. Naive as I was, I thought that this faux-spring would be enough to hold me over until vrai-spring arrived, but I was wrong. I'm more impatient than ever. It's currently below freezing, and it snowed enough yesterday to stick to the wet, half-thawed ground. Punxsutawney Phil predicted an early spring, and if we don't get one I'm going to have a choice word or two for him.

People keep on reminding me that it's still February, and that early March is just as bad. Yes, I know that. Yes, I also know that spring will get here soon enough if I'm just patient. But I'm not, so I'm just going to mentally huff and puff at the weather for a few more weeks until it does what I want because it's the proper time and not because I told it to. In the meantime, I'm making my blog more spring-like, as you may have noticed.

I hope you haven't minded my complaints. They're only to be taken moderately seriously. On another note, I should be writing more often this semester, so I'll see you again soon. Have a happy stupid, grey, cold February day.

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

In my opinion, the most wonderful time of the year starts at Thanksgiving and reaches all the way through Christmas. Things changed a little bit since I've gone off to college, but a lot has remained the same.

Tradition starts the day before Thanksgiving on Thanksgiving Preparation Day, on which we do most of out cooking and cleaning on that day. As of four years ago, it is tradition that I prepare the turkey. This often involves doing strange things with it to make my mom cringe. It started when I discovered that the liver has a fun consistency. Now in addition to playing with the liver, we investigate the kidneys and heart, wiggle the neck around, massage the turkey's skin, and tickle its armpits.

Thanksgiving Day itself probably has more traditions than any other day in the Gast house. I get up at 7:00 or 8:00 am to start the Thanksgiving puzzle. More people trickle out of bed as the morning goes on. By 9:00 when the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade starts, pretty much everyone is awake. My dad or Rachel starts making cinnamon rolls, and we watch the parade and work on the puzzle. After the parade, sometimes we leave the TV on to make fun of the dog show. Ronda usually arrives around noon to help us finish the cooking. I always take care of the green bean casserole, and usually forget to add seasonings unless my mom reminds me. Uncle Andy along with Abby and Theresa get there sometime in the early afternoon and bring with them cocktail shrimp to snack on alongside Ronda's famous chip dip. At 4:00 we start dinner. Around 4:30 Uncle Mike arrives and we subtly make fun of him until he leaves. Things die down over the evening as friends and relatives leave one-by-one. Once it's dark, the Christmas lights come on for the first night of the season.

The next day is Christmas decoration day. We leave the house sometime in the late morning and head out to a tree farm in Morrow to pick out the perfect Christmas tree. It used to take us hours. Now we're becoming more and more efficient. I think we had our tree in 10 minutes last year. This year it took about 20 if you count cutting it down, but that's still not too shabby. After we've picked the tree we each get a new ornament to put on it. For a while we went to Elder Beerman's, then switched to Delhi Garden Center, and now we just get them at the tree farm. Many of us have gradually drifted from picking ornaments we actually like to picking the strangest ones we can find. The tree is weirder and weirder every year. As we drive home with the tree inside the van, we listen to Christmas music stations. Once we get home, Mom puts in the Oakridge Boys or the Partridge Family Christmas CDs. The day usually ends with watching the first Christmas movie of the season.

Christmas traditions are much more varied and have changed quite a lot over the past decade or so, so I'll just describe what we do now. On and off we participate in Advent, whether it's on our own or with the whole church. The weekend before Christmas my mom's side of the family gets together. We have a four-year location rotation between my mom, her sister in southern Michigan, her brother in Indianapolis, and her parents in northern Michigan. This year we'll be at Aunt Wendy's house. Every year we do something different together and then eat and open gifts. Christmas Eve we go to church, and Rachel and I usually play in an orchestral ensemble.

Christmas day, nobody is allowed to leave their room until 6:00 am. At that time, we can open our stockings. Everyone has to be awake by 8:00 am for official gift opening. When Cathy and Chris Gowen are in town, they join us. After we open gifts, we eat Panera bagels or cinnamon rolls for breakfast and hang out around the house until lunch time. Around 1:00 in the afternoon we head over to my dad's parents' house in Kenwood and repeat the process with his side of the family. When we get back home in the evening, we often watch a Christmas movie together.

I like tradition. I'm no Reb Tevia, but I like knowing that certain things will be roughly the same every year. I don't mind adding new things, but I am not a huge fan of taking away old traditions. I guess it goes along with being a person of habit. I wonder how things will grow and change as our family grows and changes. One day all seven of us kids will be out of the house. Will we live close enough to get together? Will we have our own kids to add to the mix? Will we still get up to do puzzles on Thanksgiving or open Christmas stockings at 6:00 am? Who knows. Only time will tell.

Welcome, Autumn

According to the calendar, fall has arrived! And the weather should be in agreement shortly. I hope your autumnal equinox was just swell yesterday. In keeping with my intent to change my blog's appearance with the seasons, I bring you this lovely orange wall with a door in it. There were many suitable background options for a fall scheme, but once I saw this lovely picture it won. Not only does it have a door, but it in some way looks more "professional" than some of the other ones that had maple leaves or something like that on them (although there was a very nice one with dark red Acer palmatum leaves that I will probably be switching to towards the close of the season). It may not be explicitly autumnal, but it is most assuredly implicitly autumnal.

Although it doesn't feel like fall outside (it's 93 degrees and humid, good fountain run weather), it's starting to sound like it. It's been windy for at least part of most days for the past week or so, and the rain is coming more often. This weekend the temperature will be following the wind into cooler temperatures. After today, there isn't a single day past the 70's in the 10-day forecast. I'm pretty excited.

Next in the works for posts are a fall playlist, a review of a book I'm about to finish, introductions of my plant friends (I've added some new ones since last time I talked about them), and who knows what else. Right now my questions of the day really aren't very interesting, or they are regarding other people's lives. Hopefully they'll be bringing more excitement soon.

This is one for the good days. I have it all here in red, blue, green...

It's time for another happy list! This one, too, came from Sara, Courtney, and me during AP Calculus our senior year. The title came from a fantastic song ("Videotape" by Radiohead) and refers to the pleasant memories from Rahn's class and the fact that we used three different colors of pens (they were red, blue, and green, unfortunately). Courtney's additions are in courier, Sara's are in georgia, and mine are in trebuchet.

• creating a new world (after watching Lord of the Rings: Return of the King with magical creatures and wars and magic and somehow create a best-selling book out of all of it :D)
• picnics at Winton Woods
• swinging (especially at nighttime)
• finding random words in Japanese
• watching the sun rise or set
• odd but pretty names
• doodling
• the color combination of these pens [1]
• untrodden snow
• delays [2]
• the sound of a waterfall (or any other body of water)
• birdsongs
• soft thunder storms at night
• coral reefs
• fall colors
• taking pictures
• splatter-painting
• June 4, 2009 (only 17 weeks from today!) [3]
• books that suck you in
• knowing 3 of 17 weeks we aren't here! [4]
• multiples of 3
• budding flowers
• fresh-baked cookies
• the wind
• color guard
• JESUS!
• tea (it's kind of hard to follow yours Sara - it kind of wins)
• music (any kind - it's all great)
• dancing down hallways (Shantytown...haha)
• working with charcoal (or any other messy art medium)
• all cello bands (Apocalyptica, Breaking of Reality...)
• acoustic guitar music
• reading beside a fire while watching snow fall

[1] Courtney had lime green, Sara had teal, and I had purple.
[2] Snow delays, that is. We had gotten one that morning if I remember correctly.
[3] Graduation Day
[4] She was referring to the trips and breaks before graduation.

Rain

It's finally raining here in Cincinnati! We've had a few sprinkles here and there over the past week or so, but nothing exciting (except for the storm we got yesterday, but I was in church and couldn't fully appreciate it). As I sit here typing and frequently stopping to admire the rain, I remember why I love it so.

It brings a wholesome, fresh smell from the ground. It was this smell that I noticed first, before even the sound and sight of the rain. The smell wafted through my open window and filled me with a peaceful sort of happiness.

Once I smelled the rain smell, I immediately recognized that the sound I had mistaken for the wind continuing to buffet the trees was in fact the rain pattering on the grass and houses and everything else. The wind still blew strong, but the sound of the raindrops mixed into the music.

A split second later I looked out the window and saw the rain as well. It fell slant-wise from the force of the wind and blurred the stand of Austrian pines across the field in a lovely way. Even now that the rain has lightened and the wind calmed, the swift fall of the rain to the ground is soothing.

During the height of the cloudburst, I could even feel the rain. The wild wind occasionally pushed stray raindrops through my window where the screen scattered them into a spray that refreshed my arms and face.

Unfortunately I couldn't taste the rain (I did try, but not hard enough), but the plants can. Well, I suppose they can't literally taste it, but they can drink in its life-giving goodness. As the playwright* said, "Water is life."

I know that if the rain continued for days on end, my peaceful, cozy contentedness would turn to sadness, but when I've waited so long for rain, the only sadness is the happy sorrow (if that makes sense) that the rainsong brings to me.

*The playwright I speak of is the screenwriter for "Dune." I don't know if playwright was the right word to use there, but poet didn't quite fit, and I didn't know what other word to use.

Happy Lists

Last year several happy lists emerged from Mr. Rahn's AP calculus class. There were some days when Courtney, Sara, and I simply couldn't listen to calculus anymore, so we passed around sheets of paper and listed things that made us happy. Here's the original list. My additions are in the Trebuchet font, Sara's are in the Georgia font, and Courtney's are in the Courier font.

• •    soup
• •    blue eyes
• •    reading a good book on a rainy day
• •    this pen*
• •    a hillside when its leaves change color
• •    Benny and Joon
• •    the scent of fallen leaves
• •    books/movies that make you cry
• •    chocolate, anytime, anywhere
• •    the wind
• •    perfectly golden roasted marshmallows
• •    doing random things at random times without caring what other people think about it (ex: taking jumping pictures in the rain during lunch)
• •    singing in the rain (both the musical and the actual activity)
• •    singing in general (the girls 100 building bathroom, best acoustics EVER)
• •    feeling good for no reason
• •    climbing trees (especially if I get covered in sap)
• •    trying on clothes at stores and striking poses in the mirror
• •    maria's hat**
• •    the oscillating universe (both the awesome dance move and the woefully obsolete astrophysical hypothesis)
• •    decorating Christmas trees (the good-smelling kind in your living room and x-mas tree shaped cookies)
• •    going through the day with a good song stuck in your head and dancing to it at random moments
• •    walking barefoot in nice, cool mud
• •    the smell of an herb garden
• •    the dog at Imago
• •    Imago in general
• •    harvest moons on midnight-black nights
• •    Halloween
• •    Reese's cups
• •    being in love
• •    being in love with someone who loves you back
• •    playing "Adagio" on the piano
• •    playing any piece in 6-8 time
• •    not playing class music
• •    bubbles
• •    saying "je ne sais pas"
• •    swinging
• •    prismacolor colored pencils
• •    the color of KMnO4
• •    photo booth pics!
• •    separation of photosynthetic pigments on chromatography paper
• •    cozy sweatshirts
• •    caution tape and duct tape
• •    gaff tape and glow tape
• •    the Festival of Lights
• •    any shade of green

* The pen I was using was my teal G2 pen.
** I was wearing my colorful stocking cap from Colombia.

A Few of My Favorite Things

And by "a few" I mean eleventy-one. There are more, I just thought I'd limit myself. I think I did one of these a while ago. It's just going to be a list of a large number of my favorite things. Things that make me laugh, smile, or, in a few rare cases, cry in a happy sort of way.

1. alphabetical order
2. bare feet
3. bees
4. birches
5. birds
6. blowing bubbles
7. california poppies
8. campfires
9. celery
10. cello
11. Celtic music
12. chai tea lattes
13. chalk pastels
14. charcoal
15. cherry cordial ice cream
16. chlorophyll
17. cinnamon
18. climbing trees
19. clover crowns
20. columbine flowers
21. cornflower
22. crocuses
23. dandelions
24. dragonflies
25. eskimo kisses
26. family
27. fingerpainting
28. fire
29. fireflies
30. fog
31. friendship
32. frost
33. fuchsia
34. galoshes
35. God
36. grass
37. green, blue, and orange together
38. guitar
39. hearty sandwiches
40. hearty soups
41. hugs
42. ice fog
43. Jesus
44. juice
45. ladybugs
46. lakes
47. languages
48. lily-of-the-valley
49. lists
50. long, flowing skirts
51. maples
52. microtubules
53. millipedes
54. mint chocolate chip ice cream
55. mountains
56. mud
57. musicals
58. my plant friends
59. names
60. oaks
61. ocarina
62. old hymns
63. orange gerbera daisies
64. origami
65. otters
66. parsing Latin names
67. painting
68. pennywhistles
69. peonies
70. piano
71. pines
72. planaria
73. polarity
74. puddles
75. rabbits
76. rain
77. rapier fighting
78. reading
79. Rick Astley
80. scented candles
81. scylla
82. silence
83. singing
84. skype
85. slugs
86. smoothies
87. snails
88. snow
89. snowdrops
90. spring beauties
91. spruces
92. stars
93. storms
94. streams
95. sunrise
96. sunset
97. swings
98. the moon
99. the smell of old books
100. the sun
101. the trololololo man
102. the word "picaresque"
103. the word "turtle"
104. the word "whimsical"
105. twilight (the time of day, not the silly book)
106. umbrellas
107. viola
108. water striders
109. wildflower bouquets
110. wind
111. worms

Passing Incidents

I have a few miscellaneous items to share about Wednesday night before giving a brief account of the honors retreat. After the deluge, there were, of course, puddles. And, of course, I felt compelled to wade through all of them. I told my group I was protecting them by testing the depths of the treacherous sidewalks. I don't think they appreciated my service enough, but they were amused. I guess they're not accustomed to people who don't care whether or not their feet are wet.

The comedian for the night was actually the dating doctor played by Will Smith in "Hitch." He shared with us about relationships, and one snippet of his presentation was about something called Jahira windows. I had never heard of them before that time. For the first window, we were supposed to pick a favorite animal and tell your neighbor the first three words that came to mind related to that animal. I chose a millipede. My first three words were cute, round, and black. He proceeded to tell us that these three words describe how we think people perceive us. I think my answer breaks that.

That night we stayed up later than normal. When we finally did go to bed, we must have been asleep for only a few hours when we were awoken by the loudest crash of thunder I've ever heard in my life. There was one minuscule rumble a moment or two later, and then it left as quickly as it had come.

On Thursday afternoon I departed for an honors convocation retreat at a beautiful state park southwest of Indianapolis. The best thing about the retreat was that we didn't have to play any stupid ice-breaker games, and we weren't arbitrarily divided into small groups where we were expected to instantaneously form life-long connections. We got to choose what we did, and in choosing we found people with similar interests. I chose to go hiking. The park had some of the most beautiful trails I've ever seen, even considering the fact that we couldn't see beyond the range of our flashlights given that we chose to wait until dark to go hiking. The terrain reminded me of West Virginia, and the sky reminded me of Butler Springs. It was delightful. I would have preferred to go with a smaller group, but I ended up talking with a handful of people who I continued to talk to for the duration of the trip and beyond. After hiking, I learned a new card game and played mafia with a louder group of people. A bit later, I transitioned to a smaller group that had started a jigsaw puzzle. I showed that puzzle who was boss and proceeded to start another with the only two people who had any interest in starting another. Friday morning was spent listening, discussing, and asking questions, but for the most part it was valuable information... unlike orientation.

Soon I'll be leaving to go paint pottery with my roommate. Next time I'll introduce some of the people who have or might become my friends.

Some Adventures Thus Far

Sunday was move-in day as well as the first day of BGR (orientation). After unloading the van, semi-setting up the room, eating lunch, and saying good-bye to first my family and then Josh, I went straight to a meeting my the RA's for my building. I don't remember anything that was said, so it must not have been all that important.

After that, we were sent to go meet our BGR leaders and groups. Since my dorms are all-girls dorms, we were put into tiny groups that would pair up with a group of guys from the all-guys dorms. My group had five other girls and was led by a guy named Ryan. Julia (my roommate) was in my group. That's not supposed to happen, but I certainly didn't mind. She was the only girl of the group that I actually talked to. After dinner we met up with our male buddy group and their female leader. There were ten of them, but we rarely had more than eight attending any given session. I talked to several of them a few times and a few of them several times. We'll have to wait to see if any potential friendships stick.

There was plenty of stuff that accompanied BGR that I could have gone without. Lame music pervaded the entire experience. Each dorm was put into one of five large groups to compete in the Inter-Hall Showdown, and we had to do all sorts of cheers to gain points. I did go without a Monday interest elective and three-and-a-half hours of boring in the auditorium on Wednesday afternoon. Instead of attending these sessions, I did things like decorate my bulletin board with pictures from home, finally turn in my medical history form, call my family and Josh, organize papers, and so forth.

There were some pleasant parts of the routine. The food was good, and there were plenty of options. There were even options for when you can't choose a single option, as the monster cookie taught us. This amazing cookie had peanut butter, oatmeal, chocolate, m&m's, and probably a great deal more yummy than I could distinguish. It was amazing. I also enjoyed the slide show of rules at the beginning of all our sessions in the auditorium - and it's not just because I support the existence and knowledge of rules. They made them entertaining. For example: serious repercussions could result if any of the following is found in Elliott Hall ... El Chupacabra. I always enjoy a Chupacabra reference.

On Monday night in the Union, Julia and I decided to watch a hypnotist show. It was my intent to get called up on stage and then prove that hypnotism doesn't work on everyone, but he didn't pick me. Plus, once he had all his participants on-stage, he explained that he would dismiss to the audience any persons who didn't connect with his voice. The show wasn't what I was expecting. It was hilarious. Yes, some of them may just have been good actors, but many of them seemed "actually" hypnotized (I consider hypnotism more of an effort on the part of the hypnotee than skill on the part of the hypnotist). He had them do all sorts of things. .Once they pretended the audience members were baby animals at a petting zoo, and a guy from my group was taken up on stage as a giraffe baby while other audience members were perceived as anything from bunnies to mermaids to dinosaurs. Another time, a handful of them were supposed to sing "Happy Birthday" in a foreign language, and one guy chose Draconic (I doubt any of them were singing actual words in whatever language they chose). When they pretended to have their 200th birthday parties, one girl asked for pot, and another guy asked for a bow and arrow. When asked why he wanted a bow and arrow and why he was still active youthful, he explained that he was an elf. There was all sorts of fun, so I'm not all that concerned about whether or not they were genuinely hypnotized.

Tuesday morning I got up at the bright and early hour of 6:00 AM for breakfast at 7:00. After eating we had an hour of down time before our first session, so Julia and I decided to go in search of the hidden music practice room in the tunnels because neither of us really likes to play piano in front of other people. We quickly found that the common room under our building had a piano, but it was so poorly tuned and of such a poor timber that Julia named it the saloon piano. Our search continued. We found no practice room, but we did find adventure of a low-key variety. After searching through the open halls, we found a set of older, creepier hallways. In these hallways, there were menacing fire safe doors rigged with all sorts of pulley systems. They were begging to be opened, so we opened two of them. The first was filled with stacks of mirrors leaned against the walls. The second was a janitor closet. We didn't open the third because someone (or maybe something) was working in the room on the other side of it. When we rounded the corner, we found that we were in Shealy, the building under construction. One can't get into it from above the ground, but there was nothing stopping us from walking right in through the tunnels. So we did. For the most part, the workers ignored us. One of them said hello as he passed, but that was the only recognition we got other than a glance or two. We never did find the music room, so we went up to the main desk to ask where it was. They informed us that it used to be under Shealy, but that it was closed for construction and people weren't allowed down there (here we exchanged glances and grins that said "about that..."). Another one will be opening sometime in the nearish future. Until that point I suppose I'm stuck with the saloon piano or playing in the lobby. One of the guys in Cary can get me down to their practice rooms, but then he would have to be there the whole time since I'd be a girl in the guys' dorms. Maybe I'll check out the ones in the visual and performing arts building and see if they're open to everyone.

This post is getting pretty long, so I'll just tell one more longish tale and save the rest for my next post. Yesterday evening the tornado sirens went off. It wasn't looking too menacing outside, but one of our neighbors checked the weather channel anyway. The radar was beautiful. A nearly prefect bow arc was headed straight for us and a tornado had already been sighted. Our RA told us that she didn't think it would be all that serious, so we decided to stay upstairs. I went down to the saloon piano, but people kept on passing me and telling me to go to the deeper tunnels since there were still windows in the saloon even though they were sunk into the ground. I went back upstairs to wait for the storm there. As it drew nigh, it grew quite blustery outside. The cicadas raised a sudden and raucous cry to the wind. After a few minutes they suddenly went silent again. Not too long afterward the rain began. In seconds it was pouring and the wind had shifted to blow it straight through our window, so we had to close them a bit to protect Julia's laptop. The rain and the wind and the thunder and the lightning were exhilarating. Eventually the tornado siren sounded again and the storm had picked up so much that we decided it might be a good idea to head down to the lower tunnels. Once we got down there, we were stuck there for an uneventful half hour. The storm had already begun to calm down by the time we reached the tunnels, so we really could've stayed up in our room. Some of the Cary guys did, and they were just fine. At least we didn't miss much of the excitement since we went downstairs so late.

I'm about to leave to go on an honors retreat, so I'll say goodbye for now. Soon I'll bring you a few other points of interest from orientation along with descriptions of some of the people I've met and hopefully will continue to talk to. If anything worth reporting happens on the retreat I'll be sure to inform you all of that as well.

Appalachia Part IV: Wednesday

Just like on Monday and Tuesday, we got up early. Each morning there was less shine in our rise-and-shine routines. It was overcast and rainy on Wednesday, so we took even longer to get up and going.

Thanks to the rain, we couldn't work on the roof, so instead we had to find jobs inside the house for everyone. At first I got to help cut and install insulation. Fiberglass is no fun, but I managed to get far fewer fiberglass splinters than most of my comrades. After the insulation was done I got to climb up in the rafters and nail dead-wood into place. Dead-wood provides something for drywall to be anchored to.

The morning passed uneventfully. Instead of eating at the construction site and continuing work after lunch, we all headed back to the cabins to eat lunch and go sight-seeing. On the way to the cabins we passed a horrible semi truck wreck. We would learn the tale of the accident the next day.

Most us packed into the vans after lunch to visit the Coal Mine Museum. I made the mistake of riding in Ms. Owen's car. She drives like a madwoman. The museum was fascinating, but rather depressing as well. There were all sorts of stories about cave-ins and mining injuries.

One of the workers at the museum recommended that we visit Raven Rock in Kingdom Come State Park. Raven Rock was a ledge elevated a half-mile above the valley below, and the man told us that standing on the edge made you feel like you were flying. We decided that sounded like fun, so we drove off to the park. The winding roads up to the park were treacherous, and Mrs. Rivet in the front van decided that it was her turn to drive like a madwoman. Leah was about ready to puke or cry by the time we reached the parking lot up in the mountains.

From the parking lot, we hiked about a mile up steep trails (or, in the case of Maddy, me, and most of the guys, straight up the mountainsides with no interest in wimpy trails) to get to the place where the confusing signs told us we would find Raven Rock. Despite the fact that I hadn't had any sort of exercise in months, I managed to be the first girl to the top and took only one tiny break of about thirty seconds. I was breathing a little hard by the time I reached the top of the trail.

Unfortunately, we didn't see anything resembling Raven Rock. Everyone else in the first group turned around and headed back down the path, but I was determined to look around until I found this ledge. Eventually I succeeded. I shouted back to Courtney and Maddy - the only two that had stuck around from the second group - and they joined me. There was a pier-type thing with railings built onto a rocky outcropping on the side of a cliff. We walked to the railing at the end of the pier and looked out over the edge to see the half-mile drop straight down. It was breathtaking. Literally. For several seconds my head wouldn't stop spinning. It was awe-inspiring, even though the trees hadn't yet woken up from their winter slumber. Some day I'll go back when the trees are clad in summer leaves, autumn colours, or wintry snow. Near the ledge was a bench, and we decided to take Titanic pictures on it. It was a very blustery day, so the wind swept our hair back like in the movie. As we left Raven Rock we saw two ravens flying overhead. I have pictures of all these things on Facebook.

When we reached the top of the trail we realized that we were alone, we had no idea where anyone had gone, and our cell phones didn't have service. We started off down the trail in hopes of finding the others at the bottom. Partway down we heard familiar voices in the distance and followed them to discover our friends. They had apparently called our names for quite some time before giving up, and some of the girls were deeply distressed. Fortunately, Mr. Volz was able to reason that the three of us would be together and that we would take care of ourselves. In lieu of the real Raven Rock, they had found a bald mountainside. It was extremely windy up there, so much that one of my friends encouraged me to sit down because she was genuinely worried that I would fall over. I had no such worries, so I trotted on down through the rocks to where the guys were investigating a cave. Just as I got there, the clouds that had been steadily gathering took on a more menacing appearance, and we decided that the side of a mountain was not the best place to be in a storm. The guys and I decided that it would be quicker to skip the paths and take a short-cut. I know that this is generally not the best idea, but we made it through just fine with the exception of a few minor scrapes and scratches. We were back in the vans and partway down the mountain before the rain hit. I was sad not to be out in it, but I am forced to acknowledge that some things are unintelligent and unsafe and should probably not be done no matter how fun they seem or how completely unfrightened I feel.

We arrived back at the cabins without event. Here, my list of happening says "explosions." I have no idea whatsoever what that was referring to, so I'll skip to the next stuff. Several of us played cards after dinner again. First we played BS. I am atrociously horrible at that game, but my efforts provided amusement, so I consider that to be time well spent. I vanquished all challengers in a game of ERS once I was done failing at BS. When all the weaklings had given up, my friend Courtney and I decided to play a more extreme version of ERS. In our version, one must smack one's own forehead before smacking a sandwich. It added a whole new dimension to the game. We were both running on caffeine and adrenaline sans sleep by this point so we sort of frightened the few people who ventured out onto the porch where we were playing. It was great fun.

People stayed up late as usual. All but one of the guys had gone down to Sleepy Hollow and most of the girls had gone to bed when the guys played a prank on us. I must commend them for their work, because it was quite a nice series of pranks. They squirted ketchup onto pigs' feet (they found some at the local grocery store), tossed them onto the porch, knocked on the windows and the sides of the cabin, and left a ketchup handprint on the back window. Five or ten minutes later, they got into one of the vans and propped a stick between the steering wheel and the seat so that the stick was stuck pushing the horn. It was nicely done. But of course, we had to retaliate. Before going back to sleep we planned our prank for the next morning.

How It Really Went

As I've already said I would, I'm now posting what really happened during and after the windstorm. Also, as I said before, I'm actually typing this first so I don't confuse reality with fantasy.

As I drove home from church, the wind had already begun to blow steadily. The car didn't steer as well as it normally did (for all its issues, the red car does steer fairly well), trees and signs swayed in the wind, branches dropped to the ground, and some traffic lights were blinking while others had stopped working entirely. I narrowly avoided getting hit by a locust branch, and a moderately hefty oak stick thwocked my windshield, but it wasn't big enough to cause any damage.

And then came the glorious event I thought would never come to pass so long as I lived in my parents' house. I was permitted (along with the oldest two of my younger sisters) to climb up into the large white pine in front of my house. I'm not sure why. It probably wasn't exactly the safest thing we could have done. But it was fun. Rachel and I went somewhere between two-thirds and three-quarters of the way up the tree. It was AWESOME! The wind caused the tree to sway and the branches to tremble. My time in the tree definitely ranks among my favorite experiences.

An hour or so later, as the wind continued to wail, the power went out. We weren't overly concerned. We had expected it. Eventually, we found out that it would be a while before the power came back on. At some point (it may have been Sunday night or Monday morning; I can't remember for sure), we learned that would could be electricity-less for up to a week. I was kind of hoping for a few days at least, but in the end we only went for just over 24 hours without it. Several of my friends still don't have it, and where the power lines or transformers are actually damaged or missing they aren't expecting to have electricity back until Friday at the earliest.

The Nichols and some of our other neighbors came over to our house. On our way to find other people to join us in a game of kick the can, I caught a squirrel. He was a frightened little fellow, so he didn't really try to run from me. When I picked him up, he curled into a little ball and put his paws over his head. I let him go after a moment. I couldn't bear to keep him captive any longer.

I liked the idea of living without electricity for a bit. It was nice in many ways. Maybe I'll try going Amish for a little bit. As night fell, I read by candle-light and wrote a letter to Sean McHone about Cincinnati happenings from a druid's perspective. I had already put a letter in the big package Ben sent to him, but it was a short and uninteresting letter. Plus, he wouldn't have to do any extra push-ups to get it.

Finneytown Schools announced that school would be canceled for the next day, so I stayed up late to finish an excellent book by the light of some scented candles. Contrary to my expectations, cinnamon roll and pear made a great smell combination.

Monday morning we packed necessary perishable food and drug items into coolers before they went bad in the powerless fridge. My mom's opinions on what had to be saved were unorthodox. Miracle Whip, ranch dressing, and Coke were at the top of her list, followed by her medications, with the more ordinary items trailing far behind.

After that we began to clean up our yard and our neighbor's yard. I got several scratches from some stubborn branches, but none of them were deep enough to bleed. My brother, Allison, and I created a stash of sticks that had high potential for becoming dueling weapons. Later, my mom found them and got rid of them before they were used. I was given the assignment of trying to dislodge a dead branch trapped up in a tree with no low-growing branches. I tried climbing the fence next to the tree, hanging onto the dead branch, and jumping, but all I managed to do was break off part of the branch. Most of it was still stuck. After several unsuccessful attempts, I was forced to give up. I could have just climbed the rough trunk, but I wasn't allowed to take off my shoes and there wasn't a safe path back out of the tree. Well, not a safe path for a shod person anyway. Toes can cling in ways that shoes cannot.

Jonathon and Rachel alerted me to the approach of a pair of our neighborhood LARPers and their captive. They agreed to let us take pictures of them. Please note that although we had collected branch weapons, we still have more dignity than LARPers. We were going to be duelers. Dueling is honorable and dignified. As we took some action shots, Alex/Stephanie Herbers, Logan Herbers, Daniel Wilson, Lauren Gifreda, and David Gifreda came up the street. Bruegger's Bagels still had power, so Jonathon and I joined them in a march to Bruegger's. Along the way, we found some plastic letters that had blown off of a sign, so I stuck them into my purse. You never know when you might need such things.

As we continued down Winton Road, we came upon two scenes that literally brought me to the verge of tears. My two favorite trees had been brought down by the storm. A majestic blue spruce had been uprooted, and the trunk of an ancient, giant black oak had snapped. It was devastating.

When we had almost reached Bruegger's, we were joined by Maddie Fessler, JP Muñoz, Alejandro something-or-another, and two people whose names I didn't know. McCall Dillon met us there. I had some of Bruegger's delicious chai tea. It was delicious, but I had forgotten how remarkably sugary it was. Too sugary.

From Brugger's we walked to Maddie's house. From there we drove to her great-grandma's house to help her clear her yard. We left JP, Alejandro, and their two friends behind. They aren't bright enough to be trusted with rakes. There wasn't much to do, so we drove to Maddie's grandma's house on Winton Road.

We had to take two carfuls to get there (Maddie's mom had helped us get from her mom's house to her great-grandma's house). Dan, Lauren, David, Jonathon, and I were dropped off first. We knocked on the door, but nobody answered. We remembered Maddie saying her grandparents actually owned the house next door as well, so we ventured to the next house. It was rather dilapidated, so we didn't even bother to knock. We called Maddie, and she told us that the door would be unlocked and we could just walk in. None of us were comfortable with that, so we sat on the hill facing their house. People gave us odd looks when they stopped at the stop light next to their house. I suppose they were justified. All of us except for Lauren and I were wearing all black, David looks emo, and Dan looks mildly goth at first glance. Even though Lauren and I weren’t wearing black, I was wearing a pirate shirt and Lauren’s hair looked emo.

Eventually the others arrived and told us that Maddie’s grandparents weren’t home. That would have been nice to know. They had a huge yard covered in debris. It took a while to clear. I got to be the official branch stomper. Whenever a trash can was full, I got to climb into it and compact its contents.

At then end of the day, we returned to our homes. We lit a fire in our backyard to cook hot dogs even though we had power back by that point.

An Epic Tale

Preface:
On Sunday, the tri-state area experienced a vicious wind-storm brought to us by hurricane Ike. The strength of the wind took down powerlines all over the place. This is the story of what happened during and after the winds blew.*

I started out for home as the wind began to pick up. I looked at my mode of transportation. It had seen better days. It hadn't completely failed on me yet, but a feeling of doom hung over me as I clambered into the red monstrosity I was forced to rely on.** With great trepidation, I swung out onto Winton Road into the wind's power. With the windows rolled down, I reveled in the rushing air and fought minor skirmishes with my not-so-streamlined vehicle as I made my way towards home. The traffic lights swayed eerily, blinking on and off, some dead altogether. I reached the traffic-light-free zone of the spiral I must follow to reach my humble abode. While I had escaped the dangers of unregulated traffic, I now faced a new trouble: falling tree limbs. The great giants of my neighborhood swayed and groaned and dropped their branches. I swerved wildly to escape certain death as a massive locust limb crashed to the ground mere inches from where I had been moments before. I was not so lucky only moments later when an oak branch swung from the skies to smack the windshield of the dilapidated red "car".


As I pulled into the driveway, I saw two intrepid adventurers making their way up through the treacherous branches of the monolithic white pine in front of my home. Despite the fact that the tree was a wounded war veteran who had survived an ice storm and was thus missing all limbs on one side of its massive trunk, my two oldest sisters clambered up into it to enjoy the wind's fury from a higher perch. After depositing my bag of holding and my unwanted foot-wear in my bedchamber, I rushed to join them in their adventure.

We crept to the highest reaches of the tree, far above the rooftops of our fiefdom. The branches swayed and creaked dangerously, but we had no fear. Stalwart adventurers never have fear. Instead we had breath-taking exhilaration. It was fantastic.

We had barely entered our home once more when a startling discovery was made: we had no power! How on earth was I to begin my music theory quest to transpose by ear the first 16 measures of Beethoven's 5th Symphony for all the instruments*** if I did not have that song on my ipod? Worse yet, my ipod had barely any battery left. How could I hope to survive without tunes? The power-restoring mages could only hope that we would have power again within a week. A week is too long for any hero to go without her tunes. Being the hardy fellow that I am, I readied myself for the ordeal to come.

Other adventurers from our local guild traveled many yards over asphalt and grass to reach our home and suggest that we go in search of other brave souls to join us in outdoors games not designed for those who are faint of heart. On the way, I saw a creature skitter through the fallen branches to my right (I think it was to my right. I'll just say it was to the east of me. I can be much more certain about that). I turned quickly and beheld a truly fearsome sight. A squirrel-beast of rare stature reared up on its powerfully muscled legs and prepared to attack my friends and me. I faced the monster fearlessly. It didn't take me long to send him away cowering.

Night was upon us earlier than usual. With ominous clouds filling the sky, the sun's weakened rays gave up on trying to reach us. I continued to study books of ancient lore far into the night and even sent a letter written in secret code to an agent in the army.

We received a call informing us that my Academy was also powerless. Powerless Academies are no Academies at all. Filled with shame, they informed their students that their presence would not be required the next day.

As dawn broke the next day, we still had no power. We stored only the most vitally important of out perishable victuals in insulated boxes of coldness and began to clear the wreckage of the storm from the lawn of our estate. The branches ripped and tore at our flesh and clothing, but we persevered despite these hardships. A few of my kin joined me in stock-piling weapons in the event that we would have to keep vicious villains away from our family. I made a daring attempt to save a faithful tree from the shame of a dead branch hanging limply from the tree's proud form, but I failed. The failure stung far more deeply than any wounds I had received, but I bore the emotional burden stoically.


It seemed as though my siblings and I had not stored up weapons in vain. Armed travellers approached our backyard near midday. We realized to our relief that these good people meant us no harm. They were true heroes and had fought many a brutal battle to rise to positions of fame amongst our people. As we basked in the aura of such accomplished champions of good, a motley crew of our friends approached us and invited us to join them on a long trek to the other side of the Hamlet of Finneytown. They had heard the the good baker Bruegger still had power, and they were on their way to seek fresh food from his ovens.


As we crossed bustling highways and climbed treacherous slopes, our ranks swelled as more comrades joined us in our quest. Although our group was light-hearted and hopeful, there were a few gruesome scenes that brought tears to the eyes of even the most reserved of our number. Several of our forest friends had fallen in the overpowering winds, including my two best dryad friends. May their pure souls rest in peace.


Once we had eaten our fill of goodly Bruegger's fine fare, we headed out in search of good deeds that needed doing. There were more than enough elderly citizens in need of our assistance to occupy us into the evening hours. As night drew nigh once more, we climbed into transport vehicles and returned to our homes. At my house, we lit a massive bonfire and satiated the hunger of the pagan gods. We cooked the entrails of our sacrifices over the flames and filled our stomachs once more.

By this time, power had returned to my estate. It is by this power that I now relate to you this tale. And yet possessing this power is bittersweet. How long must we wait ere we are presented with such grand adventures as we have faced these past two days?



*Before I wrote this, I wrote down what really happened over the past few days. I will post the true story in a few days.

**Soon and very soon I will no longer be driving the red car! I will be driving a little green car instead. Huzzah!

***That assignment is the only part of the story that has no hint of exaggeration. I really do have to transpose by ear the first 16 measures of Beethoven's 5th Symphony for all the instruments by Friday.

Le Printemps Est Ici!

Spring is here. It officially started yesterday, so I turned in all my papers with a note stating that it was the first day of spring. I even sang it as I walked into my final bell of my final day of school before the break. It actually feels like springtime outside, too. That's impressive considering how confused Cincinnati weather has been. There are signs everywhere in the great outdoors where I spent three or four splendid hours earlier. Unfortunately, my camera is a battery-devouring villain. I had only taken two pictures when it exclaimed "les piles sont faibles" (the batteries are weak) and turned itself off, and we're out of batteries.

I don't have much homework to do over break, and I don't really have any actual plans, so I can get ahead and do things I haven't done in a while. Yesterday I played the piano for roughly a half hour, which I haven't done in ages. After I finish this, I'm going to do some drawing that's not for art class, which I haven't done since the summer. Even more importantly, I slept like a normal person, which I haven't done in far too long. I actually slept for eleven hours last night! That's almost double my normal dose of sleep.

Spring cleaning started yesterday as well. I cleaned my room completely for once. After that was done, I noticed that I had taken most of my artwork off of my walls several months ago in hopes of rearranging it, but I had never finished. I proceeded to take the rest of it down and hang some of it back up along with several pieces that I've made in the past few months. This late morning/afternoon the entire family helped clean up the yard and gardens. During all this, our lovely little mutt decided she wanted to go for a run without us, so we had to chase her. In doing so, I discovered that I really need to get in shape. I had hardly run a quarter of a mile when I started huffing and puffing.

Imago Again!

For the first time since December, today was Imago Saturday! My friends and I had been pumped about it for the past few weeks, and today it finally came.

Imago (other than being a Greek word) is an ecosystem restoration project located on a thirteen-acre plot of wooded land in Lower Price Hill. On the first Saturday of every month (except for January and February, to my dismay), we head out there to do whatever they need us to do. We've cut down honeysuckle, rescued native plants from a little bit of the NKU campus that was about to be paved over (as if that place didn't have enough concrete already), weeded a community garden, dismantled an abused wigwam, and done other things down there.

Today, we moved shovels, rakes, and other equipment to a "new" shed someone gave them. After that, we spent quite some time chipping away at a half-frozen mulch pile to cover some unsightly black plastic that's being used to smother weeds. When it warms up more, prairie grasses and flowers will be planted where the plastic is now. Finally, we planted some redbuds. Well, everybody else planted several, but my partner and I were having equipment issues, so we only planted one. I snapped the "heavy-duty fiberglass" shaft of a shovel, and my hole-digging partner bent a trowel out of shape.

It was all great fun. The air was that pleasant temperature that makes your face and fingers cold, but doesn't make you wear a coat. I absolutely love the feeling of a chilled face, but I hate coats, so this weather me fait heureuse. Spring weather is on it's way, and will eventually be bringing the thunderstorms back! However, as we all know, spring can't really start for fifteen more days at least since Punxsutawney Phil did indeed see his shadow. As far as I'm concerned the winter weather can linger on if it likes. We get along well, even though it doesn't normally bring thunderstorms.

It's Over...

Yay!

Boo!
Mixed feelings.

The musical is over. Last night was closing night, and today we struck the set. It's a relief to have more time on my hands (mostly to do homework... blech...), but I really do miss doing the show already. Sure, tech messed up fairly obviously at least three times every night and there was almost nothing to do backstage for this show, but it was still fun.

In my opinion, the painting aspect of this show may have been my favorite so far. The new seventh grade girls are possibly the best group (overall) that I've ever dealt with. Only one of the five is a problem. I have issues with the eighth grade girl sometimes, but we've sort of become friends this show.

In addition to the joy of painting, there's also the people to enjoy (yes, I do enjoy the company of a good many people, although I'm often sick of people as a whole). I was around the crew all the time, I got to socialize with my pit friends during intermission, and I had plenty of time to talk to cast members that I hadn't been around for a while. I even made a new friend of one of the cast members.

The hidden pretzel tradition continued, this time bringing an interesting quote that may result in me receiving yet another nickname. Since I had very few jobs backstage, I got some homework done, much to my relief. Well, for now it's done. I actually remembered my camera on closing night, so here are the pictures I took:

I can't resist making a report on the current weather here next to the Central Baptist Bog/Moor (yesterday it was a river, and on Tuesday it was an ice field). The wind is rushing so swiftly and with such force that our front door keeps flying open and our poor deteriorating white pine has lost another limb. The rain lashes our house. There is an occasional moan of thunder. I think the elements are protesting the fact that the air was 55º F today. On the whole, the weather has quite a mournful tone, and I love it. This has been Maria the funny-looking pretzel telling you about how I feel about the weather... again.

Snow Day!

The roads here in the land-locked hamlet of Finneytown or covered in snow and ice, so we get a snow day! To test out the ice, our five-year-old neighbor, my friend J.T., decided he was going to ride his bike down the hill on our street. He got down just fine, but when he tried to get back up the hill, he kept on slipping. It took several minutes for him to get anywhere, because at first, no matter how hard he tried to walk, his feet would just slide back on the ice and he wouldn't get anywhere. But JT has great perseverance, so he eventually made it back up the hill.

Thanks to my teachers (well I guess it's partly my fault for choosing the classes I did and caring way too much about the hardest two), my free day has been spent doing homework. My life is pretty much spent doing homework.

Unfortunately, canceled school doesn't mean canceled rehearsal. Since we're behind schedule, the director of the musical have decided that we need double rehearsal every day if we're to open a successful show on Thursday. This means that snow or no snow, we come to school at three, rehearse until 5:30, take a one hour dinner break, and come back until roughly 11 pm both today and tomorrow. Depending on his mood, we may have to stay after school on opening night for additional rehearsal time.

My one opportunity to go home after school for the first time in three weeks was yesterday, but that plot was foiled. Rehearsal wasn't scheduled to start until 5:30, so I decided to help the varsity academic team out again. Yet again, one of their members was sick. After playing two matches (both of which we lost, but one was close), we returned to the school at 6. I had planned on taking a playing test for orchestra at 5:15, so I had to go take that as soon as I got to school (I did well enough that I better get at least third chair, if not second). Upon showing up forty-five minutes late to rehearsal, I discovered that we hadn't really started yet, so it didn't matter that I was late. Hell (aka rehearsal during hell week/opening week) lasted until 11 pm. Cast, crew, and pit banded together like never before as we checked outside every few minutes for snow. When we had still only gotten a few flakes by 10, we began to despair. However, at 10:30, two of my tech friends and I looked out and beheld a glorious sight: it had finally begun to snow in earnest! We danced and jumped out in the snow, and Sarah took several good pictures.

Academia Nuts

Today I was an honorary member of the Academic Team! Half the varsity team was at home puking, so the other half decided I should join them. It didn't go so well. We had two matches and got utterly smoked at the first and pretty much gave up on the second. In the first one, we would've done a lot better if the other team wasn't so trigger-happy, but the second round was just flat out bad. Both teams scored extremely low. Our advisor said that the questions for the second match were harder than he's ever heard. The math questions were about computing numbers in base 8, hexadecimal, and all that other fun stuff. I was the only person out of both teams who knew what it meant, but I couldn't do the problems in 10 seconds. In the life sciences category, the questions were about calculating changes in entropy, which is totally not my definition of life sciences. The fine arts questions were all about where certain famous pieces of art were kept, and quite honestly, who cares? One question was actually about the city where The Scream by Edvard Meunch is located, but unfortunately my team didn't get any points for the fact that our captain pointed out that the question was invalid considering that the painting is actually somewhere on the black market right now. For the American Literature section, we were told that the answers all contained the word death, so the other team tried suing "The Death of a Salesman" for every answer, even though I pointed out that it was a play and the questions were about books. I'm fairly proud of how I personally did, considering that it was my first experience with the academic team. The JV team lost too, but that's mostly because two of them are ignorant, annoying freshman and the only girl on the team hates them with a burning passion. Plus she was bitter that our advisor chose her best friend to fill the other slot on the varsity team rather than herself.

There were some good points to it too. I got to sit on a window ledge and stare out over a garden, and from there I solved the Mystery of the Newly Cut Ornamental Grasses. Halfway through the first match, the scorekeeper's dry-erase marker stopped working, but I was there with my magic purse to save the day, even offering two different colors of dry-erase marker. That was pretty much the highlight of my day. Going between matches, the other three varsity members and I all linked arms and skipped down the hallway while Anna and I sang songs from The Wizard of Oz. On the bus ride back home, I got the privilege of staring out at the slowly darkening cloudy sky with practically no intrusions on my reveries. Once we reached the school, I got to feel the cold wind toss my hair around and rush across my bare feet and arms while I waited for my ride. It could have gone better, but it could've been much worse too.

Unfortunately, my friend Joe now thinks I should just join the academic team, and he doesn't seem to understand the idea that I have more things to do than I have hours to do them in.

Well, my friends, I must now bid thee so long, farewell, adios, and goodnight. And perhaps adieu, adieu, to you and you and you (or would "yeu" be better, rather than "you"? They pronounce it weird in the song so that the rhyme works). I now get to work on a biology lab report! *grits teeth, twitches, and makes that smile/grimace expression...you know what I mean* Our results are... interesting. I've actually called all the members of my class, and we're pretty much agreeing to all make the same mistake since our data doesn't work. We aren't fudging the data, mind you, just making and assumption that we know is incorrect. And we all know what happens when you make assumptions. We'll just have to keep our underhanded collaboration under wraps.

The Sky's Seasons

What a lovely day. The snowflakes are falling lazily down and the world is muted on this first day of the year. To be realistically pessimistic, a lot of the lack of activity is probably due to hangovers in a significant chunk of society. But that's not a cheery wintry thought, now is it? Last night was marvelous as well. The wind sighed and blew and whistled about the trees and houses with a sorrowful yet simultaneously soothing and invigorating sound. Today is the kind of day when you want to read old books, play old piano songs, and drink strong chai tea. Once again, reality is a downer and truthfully, today is the day that I realize I have two days of break left and quite a bit to finish in that amount of time. I still get my tea though (plus I found some gingerbread cookies to eat with it, yum!), and my streak of unsuccessful tea-brewing has come to an end, thankfully. I started typing this yersterday, but I felt like adding this little bit today. Now on to the part that pertains to the title of the post.

I looked up at the sky yesterday and noticed how incredibly lovely it looked. Then I realized that it was the first truly winter sky I've seen yet this year. There are two types of blue skies: summer and winter. During fall and spring, you just get some days with summer skies and some with winter skies. Richard Adams does a wonderful job of describing the two kinds in one of my favorite books, Watership Down: "It was a fine, clear evening in mid-October...The sky, too, was void, with a thin clarity like that of water. In July, the still blue, thick as cream, had seemed close above the green trees, but now the blue was high and rare..." It was a delight to find that little passage at the end of the book when I first read it several years ago, because I thought I was insane for thinking that there were different blue skies for different seasons, but as you can see, if I'm out of my mind, at least I have good company. Yesterday's sky was distant, as if separated from the world by a thin but completely transparent sheet of ice, if that makes any sense at all. In the summer time, the sky and the earth are one everywhere, but in the winter they're only united at the distant horizon, and only barely even then. It gives a more dream-like quality to the world.