Life in Janvier

(I don't even know if I got that right. It's supposed to be "January" in French, but I am a little foggy on how it's spelled. I think it's right though.)

First of all it's very soggy out here. So soggy that part of our yard is pretty much a lake. My two-year-old brother put a rubber ducky in the water, and runs around the house excitedly, saying, "Robber Docky swimmin'!" and pointing out at the yard. This delights me to no end.

Last night was marvelous. I got all hyper and, with most of my little siblings, sneaked around the house and then jumped out at people, screaming "RARRR!!" It scared the wits out of my other siblings and my parents. We couldn't stop laughing.

I'm going through Julia Cameron's "The Artist's Way" again... this time I bought it at Barnes & Noble so I can go through it whenever I like. I also bought "Mere Christianity" by C. S. Lewis, which I love because it makes so much sense!! (He's so intellectual, I adore him.) I'm reading it really slowly so I can soak all the goodness in.

I love being at my parents house. It's so wildly fun and crazy, and keeps me on my tippy-toes mentally.

Cheers.

peace & boeing 787

Tell me this morning isn't the most extraordinary morning. The luminous white snow, the liftoff of the beautiful seal-faced Boeing 787, the early bit of coffee, and my skin smelling like a rose and I don't know why. I am extremely content.

I am doing good, living with the grandparents, settled in and enjoying the television (my parents didn't have a tv in their house.) I watch Fox News because that's what my grandparents watch, and I like it except for the fact that they are prejudiced against Obama. But I agree with much they say.

I have been reading some of my old "funny stories"... hilarious little unrealistic stories that I would write for my siblings and usually read aloud at dinner time (to the annoyance of my mother, who said it disrupted the meal.) Now as I go back to read them, I find them even funnier than before, and my grandparents wonder why I'm laughing so loud.

They do make me a little sad, though, because I'm not living with my siblings anymore and therefore am not able to make them laugh like I used to. I got so much joy from that.

Ok, it is lunch time. Turkey meat on a sandwich. I shall melt swiss cheese on it. Then off to my auntie's house.

I shall leave you with a quote by Fred Hollywell from A Christmas Carol:

"I am sure I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round, as a good time: a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time: a time when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts. And therefore, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that it has done me good; and I say, God bless it!"

Merry Christmas!!
Peace & Love!
And God bless us all, every one!

chocolate

Dad and I shared a Symphony bar last night... delicious caramellyness flavored chocolate.

I find myself thinking, philosophically, too much for my own good. Then it's hard for me to keep my mouth shut because I want to share all my discoveries with others.

I am very surprised about the immaturity of many Christians; they act as though Christianity is about what clothes you wear and what movies you watch and what words you don't say... I think if that's what you base the "strength" of your Christianity off of, then something is seriously and dangerously wrong. I see a lot of this in the conservative Christian homeschooling movement, where things like modesty become very legalistic, and by our clothing we judge others! Yes, it is very easy to take things like that and make them a cult, where instead we are worshipping little idolatrous doctrines instead of the Father.

Yes, this is something I am very adamant about, I must admit. As you can probably tell. :)

I have a feeling that many of the people I know would not like the direction I am taking this; however, it is not for me to hold back my thoughts simply because I know I might lose respect from others. If I do lose respect, it is respect from people who I do not care to hold respect with.

Esh, time runs short. I must get my coffee and start warming up my voice. A local musician is coming over to jam and see if we can put together some jazz songs, with him as the guitarist and I as the singer.

Happy Thanksgiving you all!!

sang christmas songs in a parking lot tonight.

I accidentally drew a picture of a guy in driver's ed class today. Well, I did not draw it on accident, but he saw it on accident. "Is... is that me?" he asked, and at first I was concerned that he hated it. But no, his face was flushed and he was very, very pleased. He said, "You drew that?"

"Yes," I said brightly. "You can keep it."

He did, and showed it to all his guy friends. They all want me to draw pictures of them now, which I plan to do before & after driver's ed, as well as during break time.

I found this quote the other day, which I love because I greatly admire Martin Luther King Jr., and I consider him so brave and steadfast and modern.

"If a man is called to be a street sweeper, he should sweep streets even as Michelangelo painted, or Beethoven composed music, or Shakespeare wrote poetry. He should sweep streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will pause to say, here lived a great street sweeper who did his job well."

(Look at that mouth! Big and sassy and rebellious. My mouth is that way, my mother tells me. I am proud. I hope to change the world like Mr. King.)

jolly as ever

Truly Friday was a good day--no, no occasion was celebrated (for that is often more likely to be an awful day than a good one), just a lovely rainy day spent cavorting about town with Tara.

I was dropped off at River Park Square for about an hour and a half to peruse the shops while Tara and Wade had lunch at Clinkerdagger's. (They're married now, remember? They can have lunch at Clinkerdagger's.) I had never been to River Park Square Mall before, and what a world it was! It is situated in downtown Spokane, near the bus depot--a tall 5-story building with the mall on the first three floors and the AMC motion-pictures theatre above. It is filled with the most intriguing stores: Nordstrom, The Banana Republic, Abercrombie & Fitch; stores in which I've never been before.

I walked through wide-eyed, touching everything, oohing and ahhing, talking to myself about the lushness of a 30's velvet hat or the allure of a long-slung sweater. But oh! the prices! Quite often it was $60 for a hat, $60 for a top, $90 for a sweater, and many hundreds for a coat or dress. This was too expensive for me! But it was good enough to look and feel.

Tara had warned me not to go into The Banana Republic ("it's a gay men's store!") but I went in anyway (and most likely for the stated reason.)

Can you tell that I am quite modern and sassy?

The clothes were fine and expensive, but on the boring side, so I contented myself to wander among the clothing racks in both the men's and women's sections, watching people and brushing up on my writer's labeling skills. It was quite entertaining.

Tara then took me over to the Northtown Mall so I could return that hoppin' 80's grey sweater I got from American Eagle. I had decided that it was not worth the money I had paid for it--it was not even warm or cozy. Shouldn't sweaters that are not warm and cozy be illegal? At least they should not be called sweaters. I got $42.50 on an eagle-imprinted gift card.

The rest of the day, and onward, went as follows:

Friday night: Dinner at Tara's and oil-painting. Copying a van Gogh painting of an almond sprig. I mixed titanium white, payne's grey, burnt sienna and a little bit of brilliant red to make a warm grey wall. Very pretty.

Late Friday night: Could not sleep. I wrote.

Saturday morning: Driving with Dad. Did not crash. Did quite well, actually, considering I almost drove off a cliff.

Saturday afternoon: Finished reading "Leave it to Psmith" by Wodehouse. Talked Wodehousian for the rest of the day. It was mollifying to others.

Saturday night: Nothing. Hungry. Very hungry for a cheese stick.

Sunday morning: God rocks. God has always rocked, God still rocks, God never will not rock. GOD ROCKS!

Now: I'm writing on my long-neglected blog. I love Sundays. My eyes itch.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!

And I'm still as jolly a girl you can find.

my saffron robe

My tea is sour and hot. Maybe I like it that way. I feel like a Buddhist master, sitting and drinking his sour and hot Oolong tea, contemplating human misery. It's a fine feeling, to sit here and pretend I'm wearing a saffron robe.

But really, I am wearing a long grey pajama top and black leggings and no shoes, and I am sitting on a stool in the kitchen drinking Oolong tea that I tried to sweeten. I'm contemplating nothing but how I could make my tea seem more romantic, when it's truly sour and makes my jaw ache.

I will sweeten it some more. Maybe Aunt Janel's sugar isn't as sweet as ours.

--Alas! This struggle with my tea! I put in a spoonful of sugar, which sweetens it a little, but it is still sour. More sugar. But Oolong is hopeless. So before my aching jaw gives me a headache, I dive into the fridge, pull out French Vanilla coffee creamer, and glug it into the tea till the liquid is pale.

And now it simply tastes like coffee. Oh, Americans. Oh, Italians. Oh, you French. Save me from the Chinese.

celine

I take this 3/4 way earth-turn into myself and wring the beauty from it into my soul. I curl in my cozy short grey sweater and drink coffee and tea and apple cider. The Finch Arboretum is probably getting ready for its fall festival.

My blue-veined hands and the surface folds of my mind contradict each other with my writing.

A million words, I've probably written, all in preparation for the novel I will someday write. I've found my brother-in-words: Brock Cole, father of Celine, my favourite book in the world. I love every sentence, I love every new paragraph. It makes me run and jump. It makes me want to write about how the kittie brings gutty mouse-presents to the door when I'm wearing white jeans and white shoes.

Oh, and I must save my little cousin from the female zombie. I thought I had her locked up in the closet nice and fine, but it seems she has gotten out.