You get 'em Conval

The Dessert Banquet has passed. The bibleschool is gone. I could share about either one of those events, but I won't.

Last night we went to a basketball game. Two, in fact. The first was the Conval's JV team, that in case you haven't heard, Clyde is now coaching. The poor kids got slaughtered. . . . they lost 21 to 43. Also one of our point guards sprained his ankle or something. Point guards are usually shorter, and this guy was no exception. He was probably a freshman, or maybe a sophomore, and the poor guy was lying on the floor covering his face with his jersey so people wouldn't see him cry.

The varsity game was sheer pleasure. Oh, wow, watching them just made me remember how much I love watching this sport! Somehow highschool basketball is most enjoyable to me, and it brings back so many memories of the countless games I watched when Clyde used to play basketball. It's especially fun when you know the guys, or are familiar with them anyway. We lost Kuk (nickname), one of our best players, since he's now graduated, but this year some of the other guys have improved. There was Eric, #2, playing as pointguard. Fiesty defense, bad passer. Oh good, he's gotten better! Daddy commented that he thinks he's no longer "strippable," meaning he's not as easy to steal the ball from. Peter "Firebrand," #10, was playing excellently--was it just me or was he taller? Oh yeah, there's Joe and Caleb. Hurray, I can see they've improved too. Somehow it fascinates me how someone like them who are in MY grade can be 6'4"! And they started playing varsity as freshman too! Big surprise. Now I see massive Ian, #32, a good player, but lazy. And Danny, #12, making fouls just like ever, but he made one sweet shot just before the buzzer at half time. Then there were others, ones I recognized but couldn't remember their names, but still others who I didn't know at all, probably since they played JV last year. Now I've bored you going through them, but it's kind of been to illustrate a point. Ever since I started watching a lot of games back when Clyde used to play, I've gotten to know the guys. You can hardly help it when you watch them play so much and hear Clyde and Daddy talking about them. So it's little wonder that I feel as if those guys are my real friends. But what's so strange, is that they aren't!!!! They don't even know I exist, unless if they've wondered at the strange girl sitting behind them who helps her dad keep stats for the team. Nevertheless, it's odd how I feel a kinship with these guys that I'm rooting for, when I don't even really know them.

Anyway, as I said quite awhile ago, the game was sheer pleasure, and I was liking it right from the start. I must have been appreciating the guys' skills after watching the JV, because at half time I almost couldn't believe that they were down by twenty points against Kingswood! Yet in spite of it, Conval made a super come back. It's funny, because sometimes I think I do more praying during a basketball game than I do all day!

The crowd was going wild, as the guys kept stealing the ball and making shot after shot. Pretty soon the score was 58-60. There was only about three minutes on the clock. The other team started toying with the ball. This is an excellent strategy to let the clock run and stay ahead, but the technique drives me crazy nonetheless. The guys started fouling them. This is also an excellent strategy, but this helps gain time, even though it risks letting the other team add a few points at the free throw line. Oooh, I was anxious. I had given up sitting in the last quarter or so. My dad and I had pulled up chairs behind the guys, and sometimes it was tricky to see, even though I was fine until I was at the point where I didn't want to miss a thing. Then things got more tense and exciting, and of course the players in the bench had to stand up too--but this didn't help me to have a row of guys in front of me averaging 6'2", so I found myself pacing with the game. You can do it, Conval!!! There were just a few seconds left on the clock, Pete had the ball and made his shot--it went in just before the buzzer!!!

But we had lost. The score was 63-67 Kingswood. The guys were frustrated and let down. I felt drained. Sure, I was disappointed they had lost, but I think they played one swell game! After all, in the second half they made forty points while the other team made only like twenty-four. That alone is something to be proud of.

And that was the first home game. Thus begins another basketball season.

You get 'em Conval.

Romeo and Juliet

In my last post I had a picture of Klara as Juliet. Well, this is the rest of that act. I am Romeo, having discovered my fair love as dead, and in case you can't tell, the black stick in my hand is a dagger that I am about to use to end my anguish.

For Klara

I think Klara is perhaps one of the most photogenic people in the world (it must be the family she comes from:). Anyway, I've now collected a few shots of her for your enjoyment.

Delivering a dead chicken to its grave. . .

Rescuing the poor soul who is diving into the wave

I persuaded her to pose as Juliet for me--doesn't she look the part?

Cute and sassy as ever!

Along the cliff walk in Rhode Island

You know, sometimes I think that people don't really know Klara. Some might think, "Oh, there goes good little Klara." Excuse me? "Good little Klara?" You have no idea! We're talking about the girl who would be the most likely to try doing the "dip" by herself and fall over backwards. We're talking about the farm girl who is an expert at handling barn animals. We're talking about the girl who now finds herself the little mother of four younger kids now that her older sisters are gone. We're talking about the girl who shared in a girls' meeting that she liked the verse where it says "and she took the spike and drove it through his head" (probably those of us who knew her the best were the first to start chuckling, as everyone else sat there puzzled as to whether she was joking or not). We're talking about the girl who is fun to be with, if only just to prance about the hayloft with. We're talking about the girl that suddenly says some of the most random, hilarious things. And we're talking about the sweet girl who just as quickly will be willing to pray and seriously focus on God.

And, as Mr. Adams once said, Klara is a lady.

There is a lot more that could be said about Klara. And whoever gets the pleasure of having her as their friend, they'll find they've discovered a unique treasure.

Three Beautiful People--In Disguise

The Youth Weekend: the girls were split into two teams (the guys made up one) and we got to dress up our victim with certain suggested items. Look what we came up with!

Rebecca costumed as a crazy artist

We went liberal with the mousse and dubbed Meredith as a person who got up in the morning and went wrong (personally I think she would have won if we had thought to say instead that she was pretending to be Andrea:)

The Harvest Party:
The Lady of Shelot (alias: Andrea) in her fine boat accompanied by a contented Tigger

Biology and Festivity

I actually tried to e-mail this to my blog just over a week ago, but it didn't go through and I've been too lazy/busy to get around to posting it. So here it is:

I'm feeling festive. We just finished a chapter in Biology about bacteria, so now I'm really bacteria conscious (okay, now I need to sing all of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" whenever I wash my hands to make sure I do it long enough!:). Now you're wondering how I can write a sentence about festivity and in the next breath start prattling about bacteria. I'm crazy, right? I may be crazy, but there is method to my madness. Now we're studying Kingdom Protista, including amoebas and paramecia and stuff. Now, it was bad enough when my teacher told me that I have bacteria in my mouth, but did she have to tell me that I have amoeba swimming around in my mouth as well??!!!! Maybe there's a link as to why my blog is called The Flapping Lingua, like maybe I have amoeba on my tongue or something? Oh dear, now I am rambling and getting more and more random. . . . .

But my Biology teacher sang a song to us in class this morning. She said she couldn't believe she was actually going to do this and hoped she wouldn't laugh, but she thought it would be a good idea to spread a little Christmas cheer for us.

(To be sung to the tune of "Jingle Bells")

"Single Cells"

Single cells, single cells,

See how they divide,

There was one on Christmas Day but now it's multiplied--oh!

Single cells, single cells,

Nothing much to do

But sit around the petri dish dividing into two!

Now wouldn't YOU feel festive after a song like that? Of course it's a cute little ditty, if you like corny little songs like me (though even I have my limit), and my teacher justified it by saying that at least it has a little educational value. So now you and I are never going to forget that amoeba reproduce asexually, right?

But really, I am feeling festive. Who wouldn't in my position? Why, at long last we've gotten our long-awaited for snow and frigid teens weather that we have been desiring. Naturally we've already had snow, but it never lasted more than a few hours, but even though it's only two or three inches it has now lasted for a record of over 24 hours! Though I hear it will melt over the weekend. Forgetting that measly little prospect, we have also gotten our Christmas tree! In fact, after a comfortable candle lit Sabbath meeting, Mom and I decorated it. It's a little shorter than usual, but it's just as lovingly laden as ever with lights, beads, gingerbread men, bows, candles, and ornaments. And that is what makes it beautiful of course: all the old familiar decorations enlivening it into beauty. Especially the lights! Actually, although I think this discussion has been had before on other blogs on other years, but which do you prefer: white or colored lights? I've found that everyone's opinion seems to be based on what they're used to. As for me, I find that white lights are gorgeous, but for some reason I prefer them to be everywhere else but on our own Christmas tree--now that has to sparkle with color and glamor! But each to his own.

So picture this. After a delightful evening shopping at the mall you drive home and watch the snowflakes dart at the wind shield like passing stars. Skipping ahead, it's Friday evening. The powdery snow blankets the dark, icy cold world outside and you sit, snug in your wood heated home, watching the candles flickering in the dark. Except it isn't dark. The Christmas tree, almost bare but for some twinkling lights and beads, bravely casts its glimmer on the dim room and waits for you to decorate it. The only sound is the Alert Men's Christmas choir, all contained in your little Panasonic sound system. Pretty soon you're decorating the tree, choosing from an assortment of angels, snowmen, drummer boys, and the like. Ah, "We've had this ornament since before you were born," your mother says, as she fondly hangs it on a scented bough. As you're hanging things up, you hear that an elderly friend has passed away. Feeling genuinely sad, you're also happy for them that they're spending a peaceful Sabbath evening as well, in a much better place.

Hmm, these candles are too close together, and the white ones should be switched with the burgundy ones so that there isn't too much repetition. At last you're finished, your masterpiece as heavy yet smashing as ever. Your mother pulls out the final box of chocolates from last Christmas, since she kept on saving them for a more special occasion, but now that the next Christmas is coming what can be more special than this? They're a little stale, but they're still chocolate: as rich and satisfying as ever. Then you settle down cosily with a bowl of popcorn and engross yourself in watching It's a Wonderful Life, and it is a wonderful life, isn't it? Now you laugh and cry, and are pretty much convinced that that's got to be one of the best movies ever! And with that happy thought in mind, you write to your brother who is far away, and finally finish up your evening with a blog post. Perhaps now you'll go and start reading A Christmas Carol since you've seen the play millions of times and now own the book.

So now you bid me good night, and I do the same.

The Messiah Sing

The Messiah sing was yesterday. I say this merely to inform you as to something particular that I've been up to, not to do a whole long narrative about it. If you've sung in the Messiah, you know what it's like. If you haven't, it's your loss.

Well. . . . . I do have a friend or two that might not know much about it. Maybe for their sakes I'll talk about it, but I won't go into great depth, unless I get carried away. Just in case there is a sliver of a chance that you don't have any idea what the Messiah is (Philip R. asked me what it was today, so now nothing can surprise me), I'll tell you: the Messiah is an oratorio written by Georg Frederick Handel, and it contains Scripture concerning the Lord's coming, His birth, His death, and Jesus' triumphal return. So this Handel guy wrote a whole bunch of pieces combined together for soloists and choir accompanied by orchestra, and we only do part of them during the Christmas season since it would take forever otherwise. And now I shall continue as if you know exactly what I'm talking about.

The Messiah was a lot of fun, though I missed various people. Craig, for one, and Kimberly, since she's been there every year that I've sung in the past. I sang soprano for my fifth time, even though I'm wondering if I should sing alto some time to spice things up and not strain my voice on those high squeaky notes; however, fun is fun, right? Of course right.

We started with the usual two and a quarter hour section practice, and I think the sopranos were better than last year, thankfully. Our leader was fairly impressed that we seemed to be getting the runs pretty well, which was gratifying. However, I felt like we got a little more lost when we sang with the large group. Or at least I know I did. But I'm getting ahead of myself. The cookies were scrumptious as usual after our rigorous singing exercise, and then came the arduous task of seating us. It has always been a rule, sometimes spoken, sometimes unspoken, that you (or at the very least, the women) are not allowed to pick a seat before the set time for the whole group practice. Naturally though there are always those that break this sacred law, and this year was no exception. In fact, I think half of the soprano seats were already claimed when he told us to take our seats. I was with Cara, and after a little debate we hastily chose two vacated slots in the second row of the middle section, right next to the tenors. Someone warned us that they thought those seats were for the tenors, but I was willing to take the chance of getting kicked out as long as I got a good seat. I settled down with relief, recalling a time a few years ago when Kim, Bethany and I went plowing into the middle section for seats, found none, and then got tacked on to the back of the side wing, where I did not enjoy my view at all. So I was content with my prime position, close to the conductor and near enough to observe the orchestra and my beloved violin players. I wasn't perturbed when the seat next to me was filled by a boy tenor, but rather I was intrigued with the idea of hearing how well or how horribly he would do.

Never count yourself cosy before the noose settles.

As people settled down to their seats, there was a stir. A tenor was lacking a chair. Promptly I was booted out and once again, found myself tacked on to the far side of the soprano wing. Of course the conductor was nice about it and I tried to take it well as people sympathized with me ("Aw, just as I was getting attached to ya," a tenor wearing a Santa hat joked kindly behind me), but frankly, it was hard not to be mad. I understood, and I wasn't really mad at anybody in particular, but I was still kind of mad and disappointed nonetheless. What's more, of all the people in the world who could have snatched my seat away from me, it was one that I recognized well from the Conval chorus, which was somehow a bit of irony, especially since Cara (who had to stay and sit next to him) said that he shouldn't have been a tenor but a bass and that he was frequently messing up, then kicking his leg and swearing in frustration. Oh my.

Well, the practice went well despite my miserable location. Soon we were off to pay a visit to Taco Bell/KFC, where we happened to bump into Jeff L.'s girlfriend stopping to eat as well. It was so cool seeing her and her friend stopping to pray over their food--and sometimes we feel like we're the only ones brave enough to do it in a restaurant!

Back at the Franklin Pierce campus, most of us got together and went to their huge bubble gym. We bumped the volleyball around and stuff, and then we got into an unusual game of soccer with one of those huge blue balls with an airy bounce to it. It was guys against the girls, though Ben H. (who is back from Iraq) helped the girls out a bunch. Those things are really fun to "head" with. Actually, once Megan headed it, and I happened to be right in front of her, and strangely enough it knocked me right over under it's impact! I felt kind of silly, but we all laughed as once again I found myself scrambling up pretending nothing had happened. The score was one-to-one when we were informed that: 1. what we were playing with was a yoga ball which was only to be used for such and 2. you were supposed to be wearing shoes while in the gym. There were about three people in our group who were shoeless, and though I won't specifically give their names, I'm sure if you thought about it you could probably guess who they were. Those present were: Katherine, Bria, Megan, Katie, Kate, Cara, Ben, Dave, Andrew, Clyde, and me. Well, needless to say, that was the end of our spontaneous soccer game. Not too long afterwards we dispersed for concert preparations.

As usual, the performance was smashing. Even better, I didn't have to stay in my old seat! Apparently the lady next to Katherine was having difficulties with the basses singing right behind them, so wonderful Katherine negotiated for me and had us switch places. Now I was in the middle section at the end of the row about three or four down from the top. And the basses WERE right behind us, and they WERE a little confusing, but that didn't check my happiness and gratitude to Katherine.

The soloists did a nice job. Although the soprano was better than last year, she still left some to be desired. We had the same excellent baritone as last year, and the same tenor as well. Anyway, as I said, the performance was smashing as usual, and for me it seemed to fly by. I also spent nearly the entire intermission chatting with my teacher, who was actually playing this year for the first time (she said it took her awhile to finally get onto "the list" with her friends). That was neat seeing her, and she also introduced me to the concert mistress, who is one of Diana's good friends. There was also a homeschooled girl about my age or a little younger playing. I've seen her play before, in a solo concerto at a performance of the Keene Chamber Orchestra that my teacher plays in, and she is extremely good. Clyde actually had the nerve to go up to her and say, "Homeschooled, right?" and then introduce himself to her through me! She is friends with my teacher, but that doesn't mean that I know her personally! Leave it to Clyde to do something bold like that.

Wrapping up, it just amazes me once again the solid truths that are present in that classical masterpiece. I guess it shouldn't amaze me since it's taken straight from the Bible! However it is indeed inspiring to take the opportunity to proclaim that real truth, especially like in places where it says, "and with His stripes we are healed," and "He shall reign forever and ever," or even the forever repeating "Amens," in hearty support of what was just said. If only the people in the audience could catch at least a glimpse of the scope of all that incredibility! That is what I want to communicate to them when I sing in the Messiah.

A new smooth move

I did another smooth move yesterday. It seems like I am forever cursed with having my graceful moments. I was on town trip, and as I was running out of Colony Mill out to the bibleschool's big gray van that awaited me, I saw the doors swing open to greet me. Right then and there I decided to try something daring. It wasn't daring really, because I think I've done it before and I'm sure many others have done it as well, so there was nothing dangerous about it, but my decision was to take the three foot leap up into the vehicle, exaggerating my dramatic arrival. As I dashed forward, some thought entered my head that I think was something like, "Oh, I hope I don't bump my head."

 

 

Bad idea.

 

 

As soon as this doubtful thought flitted through my brain, something I can't explain happened to me as I prepared for my spring. The next thing I remember was that I was slipping and then I found myself with my legs outside the van and the rest of me stretched in a half sitting, half sprawling position on the step and floor inside. Chuckles ensued from within, and as people asked me if I was okay, I burst out laughing. "It's okay to jump in, but you don't have to dive in, Kayla," Uncle Tim said with his usual glib cheerfulness. Or at least I think he said that. I hardly even remember, except that I felt like just sitting there, savoring the embarrassment of the moment. Then I scrambled up and plopped into my seat, feeling like the most graceful person in the world.

A Different Kind of Fairytale

            Do you ever get tired with how fairy tales all seem to be the same? There are always three poor brothers, the youngest is the good one, the step mother is always evil, etc, etc, etc. Well, as we were driving up to Canada, I decided to try writing a story with everything exactly the opposite of what you would naturally expect. Or maybe the opposite. However, when I mentioned this idea to my family in the car, Craig was unconvinced. "Sounds to me like it wouldn't be a very popular fairy tale then." He may have sort of backed down from this bold statement, but still I was out to prove him wrong.

 

I never finished my fine little fair tale (I've sort of forgotten some of the interesting plot I had in mind anyway), but the beginning still amuses me so I thought I would share it with you.

 

 

Once on a time that was happened upon ago, there was a kingdom. In this kingdom there lived a young couple that was insanely wealthy. In fact, they were so insane about being wealthy that they agreed to live as just a lowly shoemaker and his wife in the middle of the woods where they were so miserably happy it isn't even funny. They continued to live this way until a certain day, forever marked in the history of the world (and if you haven't heard of it, it just proves your ignorance).

          "John," the insane wife of the insanely rich yet lowly shoemaker said to her husband. "I think it's time. Aahhh!"

          John was indeed shocked by this statement, so much so that he could do nothing but sit down. Of course he realized that this was a foolish thing to do, so he leaped back up again and asked, "Polly, do you think you can wait until I come back with the midwife?" For of course if you hadn't already guessed it, she had meant that it was time for her to have her baby.

          To make a long story short, Polly was able to wait, and she ended up giving birth to triplets! Unfortunately however, she ended up being so worn out from her long labor that she died. At least, that's the reason the midwife gave for her death, but my personal opinion is that she very badly wanted a girl. In fact, I think she so badly wanted a baby girl that when she found out that she had three BOYS, she passed away from a shocked and broken heart. This is ridiculous of course, since it is not so terrible a thing to have boys, but she was rather insane I must remind you, so owing to the additional fact that she's not here to defend herself, we'll give her grace.

          As I'm sure you can imagine, the cobbler was indeed very grieved over his dear Polly's death. This was probably partly because now he had no one who could share his insanity with him. So he determined to call this day the Day of Passing, since it was the day of her passing and the passing of his carefree life, and he vowed that he would devote this day forever to her memory.

However, he also recalled that right before his wife had passed away she had also passed on to him three little boys, and as he was a very decent man despite his insanity, he wanted to be a loving father to them. So he went into the room where the midwife had her hands full with the three wailing infants, and picking up the largest and most handsome one, whom he presumed was the oldest, he said, "There there young chap; I've decided to call you Percival. After all since this is the Day of Passing you must possess a fine 'P' name." 

He must have believed that informing the little one of his name would comfort him. Not surprisingly, it didn't, and he kept on wailing as energetically as ever.

Bouncing Percival gently in his arms, he proceeded to name the middle boy Pierre, but when he turned to the third boy, who appeared to be the runt of the litter (pardoning my way of speaking), he came with a puzzle.

"I'm not sure what to call you," he said, a bit vexed. "My vocabulary on 'P' names is rather limited, and I can't think of a single other one. Except---" Here he broke off and looked very thoughtful and solemn indeed. "I shall name you Polly," he said. "It's a very satisfactory name (I have no idea why some think it must belong to a female), and as it was your dear mother's, I can think of no other name more fitting." At this he nodded. "Polly it is then."

At this point the midwife felt that it was her duty to interrupt these premature christenings. Allow me to point out that the father had presumed the birth order of his sons, which is something one should never do, for it can often lead to mishap. This was no exception.

Luckily for the midwife, the shoemaker wasn't very troubled when he found out that he had reversed the order of his sons. Percival was in fact the youngest, and Polly was actually the oldest.

"No matter," he said, shaking his head. "They all are my sons no matter what order they come in." Which is a very sensible outlook, one must admit. Maybe the man wasn't so insane after all.

 

Hmm, maybe I should call this unfinished story "A Boy Named Polly." What do you think? :)

 

(In case you couldn't tell, I was having fun!:)

Statue Day

The title is self-explanatory, no?

I wish it were real. . .

This lion (the only one not in Australia, but in Canada) didn't look ferocious enough to me, but I felt like returning his fierce, toothy grin--mine ended up looking like a cheesy grimacing smile :D

Me making friends with a platypus. The places where we saw them were too dark to really take a picture of them, although now I regret that I didn't try. Nonetheless, this is the closest picture I have of a platypus!

A rider vanquishes the dragon 'neath his bold steed in front of the Victoria State Library

Grand Finale

And now folks, is the grand finale!

I love the dumb expression on this guy's face--kind of makes you hope that our species aren't related, right?

Nose pointed skyward, telephoto lens come in handy once again!

A woman was pointing out to her little children how this fella's lips are as red as "mama's lipstick." This idea amused me and I think she's right, even though I don't know how red her lipstick is.

More Grand Finale

And here's more of my "grand finale" to Animal Week!

This here is a genuine wombat--now I know what it looks like!

This photo didn't turn out that well, but I just had to show you all what an echidna looks like--this is the same type of critter that we passed by on the side of the road (too bad we didn't stop and take a picture of it then, then I would have owned the rights to sell it:)

And here's more contributions from the Melbourne Zoo:

No roaring lions for us this time, just snoozing in the morning sunshine.
What's interesting is that these lions were a fair ways off and I took this picture through an almost screen-like cage

Cow Day *at last*

Happy Thanksgiving everybody! We have so much to be thankful for! So I am now going to celebrate this momentous occasion by designating this as Cow Day. Sorry, it isn't Turkey Day (they weren't willing to pose for me:) , but just plain Cow Day. Hurray, finally it dawned on me that my pictures weren't saved as jpegs, so no wonder they were like 2.49 MB and therefore almost impossible to upload with dial-up!hehe Anyway, here are the beloved cows at last.

I'm afraid that these cows are not Australian, but they are Canadian! Can't you tell? Craig and I actually took these as we drove down a little country road in Pugwash. As we passed by this cow pasture, we noticed how they were all gathered round with their back sides facing outward, and of course we naturally concluded that this bizarre scene would make an amusing photo. So presto, out of the car we hopped. Then, with some timidity we crouched on the edge of somebody's lawn to get our perfect shots, chuckling all the while and hoping fervently that no one would see us--if they did, they might think we were crazy!

I wouldn't blame them if they did.:)





We soon leave for Bill and Cherylin's where we shall gorge ourselves till we burst. Hope your food is as good as ours!

Hippo Day

Here are a couple more contributions from my collection at the Melbourne Zoo:

Doesn't he just make you want to yawn?

Once again, I hope you can tell which one is more hippo-like!

Winged Creature Day

Notice that I did not entitle this "Bird Day." It was almost going to be Bird Day, but I decided that I would include bats, and unless I am very much mistaken, bats are not birds!

Koala Day

Okay, sorry to disappoint you, but I think Cow Day is going to have to go on hold. Something the matter with uploading them. However, I did manage to pull together Koala Day for your benefit. I took a few more but these are probably the nicer ones. No, I'm afraid I didn't see them in the wild. . . but they weren't exactly in a zoo either. They were in a sanctuary just for Australian animals. Sadly, I can't sell these--I made the big mistake of reading a sign on my way in that said that all rights for pictures taken there are reserved.


My advice? Don't read any signs with a camera next to them, even if they ask you not to take photos; ignorance is bliss!














Now I realize that Kendra isn't exactly a koala, but she made a pretty addition to the koala statue, right?



Up-close and personal: the beauty of the telephoto lense makes me happy :)

What WAS going to be Cow Day

AAAaaarrrggggghh! Okay, this was going to be Cow Day, but for some reason our computer is refusing to upload my pictures by simply taking an interminable amount of time (and I'm not exaggerating, it has been like fifty minutes). So, now that it is getting quite past the time I wanted to be in bed, I am going to close it up and say that I hope I can combine Cow Day with another time; maybe tomorrow. But in either case I hope it will still happen soon!

Kangaroo Day!

Now, introducing the ALL-NEW Animal Week!!!!! Hurray!!! (polite chuckles. . . . . . polite? I mean this is where you scream and clap without holding back)

Okay, I'm going to try this anyway. Of course everyone does color week (which I might get around to doing someday), but I am going to be original and do animal week! Now, this isn't promising that there'll be something every single day and it will last a whole week, but I hope to put up the *all-new* (as in like three months old) animal pictures fairly regularly for maybe about a week. Savvy? (by the way, I think savvy is just about one of the coolest words on our planet)

So now everybody. . . . . drumroll. . . . today is kangaroo day!

snoozing. . .

staring in between hops
(I love watching them jump, they look so bouncy and fun)

Having breakfast at the Melbourne Zoo
(the zoo that claims to be the oldest in the world or something)

Confession: this is actually a wallaby

Going, going, gone

Craig is gone.
I have now joined the lonely ranks of being an only child once again.
No more will he spend his evenings here, or even his weekends.
He won't even be here to fight over the computer with!
Kendra and Chad are gone, and Clyde is in bibleschool.
I am the only one left.
For the first time, when Christmas comes around, we will not fulfill the
lucky number of seven.

Now we just count the days until three long months are up. . . .

. . . but I hope he has a good time. :-)

The All-New Mousetrap

We have had a bit of a mouse problem in our house lately. Luckily, it's starting to get under control since my dad set traps nearly a week ago, and in the following four days we trapped aproximately eight mice. Hmm, but we did discover a new method of mouse trapping. However, this particular method does not involve filling your kitchen sink with water, or closing the cupboard door, or using a brick, or even stomping on it, as these other real life examples have already done.

I heard about it from Craig. I was on the computer (oddly enough) last week sometime when he came to me and said, "Um, I found something in my couch," then he added, "You should go see what it is."

Need the rest of the story be told? I've already given you a fair warning, which is what I didn't have. However, I had a nagging suspicion of something to that effect and sure enough, underneath the basement couch's cushion rested a little bundle of fur, undoubtedly of the small rodent variety. The puzzling thing is how come it got under there safely, and one minute it was fine and the next it was squished to death? I suppose it could have just gotten stuck, which doesn't seem too likely, or else the nearest we can figure is that somebody sat on the couch while the mouse was under it. What's strange is that we don't sit on that couch very often so it would have been a very chance occurence for the mouse to just happen to be there when somebody just happened to sit on it. Weren't we just dying to know that? I think the mouse sure was. Literally.

I wonder if Derrick has sat on Craig's couch recently?

Oky doky, here are just a few more of the promised pics of the Harvest Party. So sorry Kim, but the girls took off their fat people costumes pretty quickly so we didn't get a picture of them (but if you really want to see it, beg it off Gretchen, because I know she at least got it)

Kaitlin and Emily!

See what I mean by the funniest costume? (you know I'm kidding, right, Wes?:)

A rather dumbfounded Pooh Bear

The reedy trio (aren't you glad there's a smiling face behind those tree branches?)

Three men in black. . .

Hopefully more coming when my time grows a little more in abundance! (if ever)

Succumbing to the masses

Okay, okay, I give up!!! Finally, I succumb to the masses! Fine, here are your pictures that you wheedled out of me. Actually I meant to post them when I wrote about the harvest party. . . oh well, you get to enjoy them now!

Also, a million apologies, I meant to take tons of pictures with my camera, but somehow in all the excitement I managed to only take a measly two (and they're not even developed yet). However, never fear, my mother was there for maybe half of the party, and she managed to run around the room a little near the beginning, armed with our digital camera, and thanks to her we have these here pics:

You should have seen Shannon wearing Clyde's size 13 sneakers!

So this is love? (mmhmmm)

"I'm mysterious" ~what Kate S. thought Katie G. once said

Ferocity written all over!

Enchanting, isn't she?