Your very first history lesson

I don't suppose that you've ever thought about what your first history lesson may have been. What do you suppose it was?

 

You: Um, I don't know. Probably Christopher Columbus or the Pilgrims, I guess.

 

Nope.

 

Normally, I would have given the same answer, but I'll bet you knew some world history even before you learned about Columbus. In fact, I'll bet you knew about King Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette before you had even heard of Christopher Columbus!

 

You: (exclaiming) Good grief, Kayla! I never learned about them until I was in sixth grade at least! (that's when I thought I had learned about them too) And you're telling me I didn't learn about Columbus before then? Good night!

 

Well, actually yes. In fact, I'd even bet that you knew something about them before first grade!

 

You: Um. . . . (while you think about how looney I am)

 

You see it's like this. You may not have necessarily known King Louis XVI's name specifically, and you probably weren't too aware of the somber word "guillotine," but I STILL think you may have known a little something of the story. After all, you don't necessarily have to know the real names in order to know the history, right? So, say we gave King Louis a different name. . . . like Jack, for example. And what if you knew Marie Antoinette by the name of Jill?

 

See where I'm getting at? If you do, you're probably saying

 

You: That's rather far fetched. I'm skeptical.

 

If you don't, then don't worry, because you're about to. So here's something to jog your memory:

 

        Jack and Jill went up a hill to fetch a pail of water,

Jack fell down and broke his crown,

And Jill came tumbling after!

 

Now isn't it crystal clear? Louis went up to the guillotine to "fetch a pail of water," then he "broke his crown" (which is really quite literal when you think about it), and Marie followed suit. Really, I'm not making this up!

 

You: (unconvinced) Sure. . .

 

You see, we tend to think that all nursery rhymes were written for the amusement of children. Actually, that's not wholly true. Back in the Middle Ages it wasn't safe to openly criticize your government, so adults used to amuse themselves by coming up with rhymes to poke fun at different leaders. Soon the adults were also amusing their children by telling them at bedtime, and they were passed on until they became familiar in the way that they are today. This was in my Christian history book (Bob Jones, for the record), and since whatever my history book says is as true as the Gospel, I figure it has to be golden true.

 

Still don't believe me? Maybe you do? Well then maybe you'll enjoy a couple more:

 

Little Miss Muffet

Sat on a tuffet,

Eating her curds and whey;

There came a big spider,

And sat down beside her,

And frightened Miss Muffet away.

 

This one satirizes the relationship between John Knox and Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots (and if you don't know who I'm talking about, then you're probably not a history buff and wouldn't care even if I told you). Mary returned from being raised in France (so I recall) and sat down at the throne of Scotland, enjoying it for a little while. Then along came a "spider" (otherwise known as the fiery John Knox), who condemned her scandalous behavior and Roman Catholic beliefs. So she was supposedly "frightened" away, and she fled to England for protection from her cousin, Elizabeth I.

 

Three blind mice, see how they run!

They all ran after the farmer's wife,

Who cut off their tails with a carving knife,

Did you ever see such a sight in your life,

As three blind mice?

 

In this case, the "farmer's wife" is Mary I, who was Roman Catholic and also became known as "Bloody Mary" (huh, I wonder if bloody wasn't a swear word in England back then). She persecuted the Protestants in England, the most famous of which may have been the three churchmen Cranmer, Ridley, and Latimer, who tried to stop her efforts to reinstate Roman Catholicism in England. Therefore, she "cut off their tails." That is, they were burned at the stake. (and if it is the least bit familiar to you, Latimer is the one who said to Ridley, "We shall this day light such a candle, by God's grace, in England, as I trust shall never be put out." I guess everyone was pretty literal back then)

 

There are more historical rhymes, but I don't remember the stories behind them. Anyway, you get the picture. If you didn't know some of this stuff beforehand, you are now enlightened, but I bet you're pleased to find out that you "knew" more than you realized. You probably had your first history lesson before first grade after all!

 

Now do you believe me?

 

You: I don't know why I ever doubted you!

Icecream and more basketball

On a lighter note, my family presented our Christmas present to the bibleschool yesterday. My parents took them to Friendlies (or is it Friendly's?), and I paid for their entrance so that they could go to Clyde's basketball game(s) at Monadnock. It was quite a delight to sit in the bleachers with rows of skirt clad girls, cheering loudly whenever Conval made a basket. In fact, I think just a couple of us were louder than the enemy's cheerleaders were.

 

I also found out that I might be a little more knowledgeable about basketball than I realized, at least compared to some girls.

 

        "Why are they blowing the whistle? What happened?" one girl asked (I'll let their names remain anonymous). It's a foul, dear.

       

        "What's that?"

 

        "What do the points go by?"

 

        "Um, who's winning?"

 

        "So is Clyde not coaching? I thought coaching was running back and forth." Um, that's called "reffing," honey. Clyde is the one who is encouraging the players and working the strategy.

 

It was also fun sitting next to Bria and Katherine and pointing out various players.

 

        "There's the tall sickly guy on the other team that I was telling you about, Katherine."

 

        "Oh look Bria, that over there is Danny, the guy who can beat any girl. Did I tell you about him?" He once made a claim to Clyde that he bet a hundred dollars, no, he bet a THOUSAND dollars that he could beat any girl one on one. Well he ended up playing his woman coach (who, FYI, was in Chad's class at ConVal) and guess who won? The girl. I told Clyde he should have had him cough up the thousand bucks, but he didn't.

       

        "There goes _______. My new nickname for him is Schlotty the Naughty Hottie (which is NOT based on personal opinion)." I just call him that because he's the most likely to get a technical foul called on him, and they were good words that rhymed with Schlotty.

 

"Okay, that's nice Kayla," now you're saying, as you sit on the edge of your seat in anticipation. "But who won?" Actually you might not be saying or even thinking that, but you're going to find out anyway.

 

To make the a long story of good and bad news short, ConVal's varsity team lost. We were ahead by one at half time, and I thought they might actually pull it through and make their standing 3-6, but somewhere in there they lost it and were killed by like eighteen points. In their defense, the other team's standing was 5-2, but we still should have beaten them. *sigh*

 

But on the other hand, the JV won their second victory!!! This means an especial lot because it was Clyde who coached them all by himself. Actually in the first half they really weren't doing so well and at half time they were down 12-22. But after half time, something was different. Clyde claimed it was the pep talk he gave them, but I think it had to do with his strategizing skills: they made a full court press and the other team didn't know what to do about it. Therefore, in the third quarter they made a stupendous recovery, making twenty-two points while the other team only made two!!! After that they may have slacked off just a tad, since they other team made a few more points, but ConVal still prevailed and kept their lead the rest of the game. Hurrah for Clyde and his team! Now their standing is 2-6, which is even better than the Varsity's 2-7.

 

After all this excitement and sadness (the Varsity game was last actually, so we were feeling dumpy at the end), Bria made a comforting statement:

 

        "Icecream would sound good about now." And she was right.

 

So off we went, throwing off the damp loss we had suffered, and enjoyed our ice cream. And what more can I say? Icecream is ice cream, no matter where you go, and fun times are fun times just the same. Probably the most incredible thing that happened was when Clyde ordered the 12-scoop crowd pleaser, which the waitress claimed she had never had one person order before. He amazed and grossed us all out, but of course we had to take his picture and capture it on video, since we were all well equipped. Fortunately for him and for us, he didn't try to eat it all, but when he had about four scoops left he asked if he could take the rest home. Besides, he couldn't keep us waiting for too long.

 

And thus was our family Christmas present to the bibleschool

He knows better

Well, unless you live on a different planet, you probably know that my
Grammie is gone to be with Jesus. Daddy and I were having Wisdom Search
yesterday morning after seven and he was marvelling how thinking of new
things keeps our minds busy and amused. Also he had realized that when he
took my grandmother out of the house for an appointment recently, she
hadn't been out since three months before when he took her to her last
appointment. You would go crazy too if you never left the house for that
long, now wouldn't you? So when we prayed together over the day I asked
God to encourage Grammie and to lift her spirits.

Ten minutes later, we got the call that she had passed away.

I knew that she was going to go sometime. We kind of had to know, since
she was less than three months from her 100th birthday. But now that
she's actually gone, I miss her. I guess I would be callous if I didn't.
On the other hand, I know that she was unhappy and we were hoping that
God would take her (hopefully that doesn't sound wrong to some people),
so I haven't really been shedding buckets of tears. It's just that she's
actually gone. . . . . .

It wasn't until later that I realized that God had answered my prayer. He
did lift her up and encourage her, just not in the way I had been
expecting.

But then He's the one who knows better, now isn't He?

three totally different topics of my day

#1

I was playing volleyball. Near the back row, the volleyball came crashing to the floor, and I ran forward. . . . I wasn't quite going to make it. . . so I stuck my foot way out to kick it, barely missing--bang!!! Then I woke up. Whoops, I just kicked the wall, and pretty soundly too. It also happened to be the wall that sits right next to my parents' heads right on the other side. I wondered if my mom would come see if I was okay, but she never did. Nevertheless, Daddy asked me curiously the next morning to see if I knew what the bang in the night was. I guess my dreams can get a little too graphic.

 

#2

My geometry teacher made me laugh today. To look at him, you wouldn't expect him to make you laugh. After all, he has a rather serious face and he has to rush quickly through the half hour class to cover a lot of material (plus he only has thirty lessons to teach me everything he knows:). However, every once in awhile he randomly says these amazing things. Today he was writing the familiar terms sine, cosine, and tangent on the chalkboard.

 

"Now this one," he said, pointing to the last one. "Is what you call a guy who stays out on the beach for a long time."

 

Then he went right on in the next sentence as if nothing had happened, while in the meantime I burst out laughing. I love puns, and that was an especially good one, and just the type of thing you'd expect from a geometry teacher. Who ever heard a tangent being referred to as a "tan gent" anyway?

 

#3

I saw one of the varsity basketball players that Clyde works with at Conval today (never mind his name, it probably wouldn't mean anything to most of you anyway). What's more, he saw me, and I think he recognized me. Well, at least I think he did. The reason why I think he did is that he was smiling, and when he saw me his smile faded. Therefore, out of all the possibilities of why he stopped smiling, I choose to think the best one: that he recognized me.(that's my most hopeful conclusion)

Not dead, right?

Last night, I had a terrible dream. I dreamed that Cara Beth was dead.
Isn't that just absolutely horrifically incredibly humongously
monstrously extremely terribly terrible, sad, disastrous, depressing and
horrid? I mean, what would we do without her? Anyway, I was actually kind
of mad along with my distress when I learned of her death, because she
had been gone for over a week and nobody had told me! And I'd been
wondering why she didn't answer my e-mail. . . . which is quite true,
because she really hasn't answered my last e-mail.

I was fairly convinced that this was a dream, but when I "woke up" and
asked my mom about it, she confirmed that my dear cousin really had died.
What's more, is that I went over to her house and Cara was there! I mean
that she was dead, but she had been permitted to come home for her
funeral, and she was picking out the pictures of herself that she liked
the best so we could make a slide show in memory of her (man, that girl's
got nerve). Her family didn't even seem too despondent about her supposed
"death," and who can blame them, since even I felt comforted about it
since she was there in what appeared to be all flesh and blood? Aunt Ali
was quite sympathetic though when I told her that the news had hit me
rather hard. Cara talked almost freely about her being dead (or so I
vaguely remember), and didn't even seem bothered that she passed away
right before her sixteenth birthday (which should have hinted to me that
this dream wasn't real, since she turned sixteen nearly three months
ago). Anyway, to make a long story short, I did eventually wake up. But
not wholly convinced, I asked my mother if Cara was alive. She said that
she was, which comforted me a little, although I'm thinking that maybe I
shouldn't believe her until I've heard Cara's voice itself. But how am I
to know that once I do it's not just her back in her dead form?

*Sigh* The point of this post is that I'm immensely glad that one of my
very best friends isn't dead. Don't you share my relief?

random info of the day

Wow, I have just relished some creamy chocolate from Prague one minute, then I was sucking some tasty strawberry-creme chocolate from Jerusalem the next. It's great having relatives that travel!:) Now I feel like such a gourmet. . . .

#24 on the wall

We just got back from Calvary Christian School, where they were retiring
Andrew's jersey. Although I don't feel like writing a lengthy report, I
just thought it would be nice to have at least one person post about it
for those who weren't there (though there were several other bloggers
present, so I don't know if I'll be the only one). In case you hadn't
heard about it, Andrew Murray's old school decided to retire his jersey
in memory of him, and they chose to do it during the half time of one of
their basketball games. No offense to them, but I hope their school isn't
measured by how their current team plays basketball--otherwise they'd be
dunked (*a dry haha*).

But really, the ceremony itself was excellent. The principle spoke (or at
least I think that was who it was), heartily commending Andrew for his
serious devotion to the Lord, and he also read several quotes from Uncle
Dave's book that gave an idea about Andrew's character. They had a slide
show, and Uncle Dave spoke, reading a poem about how a pebble dropped in
a stream may be forgotten, but the ripples go on and on and may finally
disturb a mighty river. And Andrew dropped pebbles for Christ. Andrew's
old coach also gave a stirring talk about his positive impressions and
appreciation for Andrew and his willingness to do what needed to be done.
They had people stand who were his classmates, his teammates, his
coaches, his teachers, and his family friends. Andrew's teammates also
came up front and presented a banner for the gym to Uncle Dave and Aunt
Pat, along with the object of high honors: the framed, blue #24 jersey
itself. The audience was very supportive, with plenty of applause, and I
don't know how many dry eyes there were. Maybe many. Maybe none.

And through it all, I believe God was magnified.

Fears rekindled

I dropped some matches tonight. I mean, I dropped a whole box of them right on my dad's study carpet. Luckily the box wasn't very full, so it didn't take me long to pick them up, but as I did, I thought, "Wouldn't it be just great if somehow I managed to strike a match on the carpet and the fluffy stuff went up in flames?"

 

As I now recall the time when I was worried about bumping my head, and then ended up tripping, I realize that this was a dumb thing to even think about. So of course when I was stooping to pick up the last match, my careless fingers somehow managed to drag it up the frame of the door, and presto! The match was lit. Startled, I dropped it before I could think. . . and it landed on my hair. Ay, ay, ay! I love my hair, and if you know what it's like to possess long hair and have a special fondness for it, you'll be able to sense the panic and agony that went through me right then. Of course maybe the first thing to do would have been to drop and roll, but in my frenzy I dashed into the bathroom (which luckily is right next to my dad's study) and doused my hair in the toilet. The fire had caught in my hair, but luckily it had just caught at the ends and despite my numb mind I had moved surprisingly quickly. My breath came in choppy gasps as the little flame fizzled out. I couldn't imagine what would have happened if it had caught hold of all my hair. . . somehow being bald doesn't quite appeal to me.

 

Okay, I'll start this story all over again. This time it will be the true version.

 

I dropped some matches tonight. I mean, I dropped a whole box of them right on my dad's study carpet. Luckily the box wasn't very full, so it didn't take me long to pick them up, but as I did, I thought, "Wouldn't it be just great if somehow I managed to strike a match on the carpet and the fluffy stuff went up in flames?"

 

And then nothing happened. I finished putting the matches away, and remembered how I used to be afraid of them, in a fashion. In fact, I still remember the time when I was maybe nine and I found a match in the back hall of the Main House. What's more, it was a lone, unlit match, and as I picked it up I was convinced that I had rescued the Main House and everyone in it from mortal danger. That's how cautious I was towards matches.

 

Then I remembered the other objects I used to be slightly afraid of. Afraid might be too strong of a word, but I was rather wary of them, most likely because they possessed power that you had to know how to harness. Like the beaters in our kitchen. For some reason I was nervous to bring them up to high speed, just because, well, I don't know--they're so fast, and what if I lose control of it?!

 

Then of course there was the matter of the vacuum cleaner. I think I was careful to avoid this, until I had to use one for more than just cleaning the stairs. Besides, it was always Clyde's or Craig's job to vacuum the house, not mine. And that is probably why. In fact, my brothers used to torment me with this very same evil instrument. If I was sitting in a room where they were vacuuming, I was careful to stay out of their way. If I had my feet touching the floor, I was in danger, at least according to me. But I was really in danger anyway, because as my brothers approached me with the machine sucking up all in its path, they would lift the mighty head of the monster in front of me, or over my head. Imagine this huge, roaring thing looming above you, wheels spinning like gnashing teeth, ready to suck your hair up and all of the rest of you! And imagine that you're about five years old as this happens. I would squeal in fright, covering my hands over my head and crying for my brothers to stop, and they would chuckle with cruel pleasure, before they finally would release me from my torture. No wonder I was scarred for life over the vacuum cleaner!

 

Fortunately I have long since recovered from my fear of those sucking instruments, but the idea of that huge ugly head leering above me is still enough to give me shudders. Maybe.

 

And I've also had a certain awe for the power of the chain saw. . . . .

More Great Ocean Road

There's no way I would have let you off so easily before! Here come some of my favorite shots of the Great Ocean Road:

This thing-a-ma-jig is called "London Bridge"
What I want to know is why isn't it falling down?
(hardy har har)

A Drive along the Great Ocean Road

I think it's about time I share a few more Australia pix (since I know you're simply dying to see them). So now I shall take you on a trip along the Great Ocean Road! This was probably one of my favorite parts that I got to see in Australia, so pay attention!

Imagine a winding road curling along the coast on an overcast day with sporadic rain. You pass kangaroo crossing signs by the dozens (well, divide that by half), and spot a lighthouse here, another lookout there. The cliffs may be steep, or you may drive along the foot of huge sloping green hills that drop right down to the ocean. And the water is the most beautiful part of all! An amazing deep aqua that kept setting me oohing and aahing. We saw close to ten rainbows in all, explored countryside where you saw sheep and cows getting a million dollar view, strolled along the breakwater of a fishing village (also a tourist spot where we spent the night, but it wasn't quite the season for the masses) and we also got to stop to take a walk through a rain forest. That is the Great Ocean Road. As we were travelling along the sometimes plain but often gorgeous countryside, I couldn't help wishing that somehow I could take all the sights and stuff them into my camera so that I could spit out the whole picture in its entirety for my family to enjoy as much as I was. But that of course is impossible. However you do get to catch a wee wee glimpse of it.

Note the car driving on the left side of the road

Just one of many!

Moonshine and Sunshine (Amanda and me:)

When I flushed the winning number

A couple weeks ago, I dropped my ticket in the toilet. I was at a Conval basketball game, and the tickets they sold to get in were also raffle tickets. And there was mine, floating upside down in the toilet. I vaguely wondered if I should fish it out, but that idea was absurd. Besides, even as I watched, it started to shrivel up with moisture. So I flushed it. The lady who sold me the ticket would surely remember me and not bother with me showing it, so of course there was no need for me to keep it. Right?

It only occurred to me later that maybe my ticket would be the winning one.

And when they read the blue ticket number, no one came forward. They drew another one, but I couldn't help thinking that that could have been me.

I'm not sure what they would have thought though if I had produced a wet ticket anyway.

on vacation

Naturally speaking, you would think that once I'm on vacation, I would blog and blog. For some reason, that isn't the case. In fact, inexplicably, I almost have a repulsion for the computer when I'm on vacation, or on short ones anyway. Perhaps a repulsion is too strong of a word, but for some reason I feel like I never want to go on-line, read a blog or write on my blog. Vacations are a time of isolation, not communication. Oddly enough, my sister is just the opposite.

Anyway, so I'm here. Actually, I'm in Maine, and probably the only reason I'm writing now is because it happens to be my last day of vacation, I'm using DSL, and most of my family is too much in the "early morning" mood to be fighting over the computer (well, if you can call quarter of eleven "early," but of course it's early for New Years Day).

We're staying at the condo that my dad's cousin generously offered to my parents (though I'm afraid he's not aware that most of the family hopped in on it too). Mom and Dad came up here a few days earlier, but us kids joined them just yesterday.

It was kind of hectic getting started on the road. First, I had to do nearly all of my packing right after church before we left. Second, Clyde and Kendra both happened to be all ready way before I was. So of course they decided to wait in the car while I finished up. Come on, I really did want to take my sketchbook, and then I need a book to draw from, I need a ruler, drawing pencils, where's my walkman? Do I have all my cds? Do I want to take the Sharpie? Oh, here's my book, my Bible, I better take some gold fish in case if we get hungry on the road--oh dear there's no time to eat lunch! Pick out the games Mom asked me to bring, now put them in a bag. Okay, so they both had to leave me to turn off the computer, turn down the heat, and unscrew the last candle light bulbs. Now which coat shall I take? Finally, I'm ready. I clambered into the front seat of the Jetta, and we rumbled on our way.

"Well, I hope you remembered an extra pair of underwear," Clyde said, completely joking.

Great. I just knew it. "Oh, that's what I forgot!" I cried. It was true, despite all my training in packing and my thorough job, I had forgotten something important, and we had to turn around. Fortunately we were only by the church, so it wasn't a big deal to just turn around and make a dash for it. But I'm afraid Clyde and Kendra will never let me live it down.

So after a two and a half hour trip we arrived at our destination. It was true, the view of the ocean was just lovely. The windows opened up a wide panoramic sight of the calm waves and the snowy beach right at our doorstep. And the mirrors covered over the opposite wall made us really feel like we were surrounded. We took a walk down the chilly beach, admiring the slightly rosy horizon, the ripply sand at low tide, and sea gulls dotted along the clear water.

Clyde consumed over a roll of film, but I just felt like soaking it in, as I practiced taking giant leaps over streams going out to the ocean. I did finish my roll though, and walking back I reloaded it. You see, when I was in Australia along the Great Ocean Road, sometimes I had to reload my film while walking at a brisk pace. So now I have the experience under my belt, though I was out of practice and I was wearing gloves. But as I snapped the cover shut, my eyes fell on the sand in front of me. And there I saw it. A sand dollar! Allow me to say that I have always wanted to find a sand dollar, but no matter how much careful scrutinizing of beaches I have done, I never managed to unearth one. In fact, it always seemed like someone else besides me was always finding one, but that is probably untrue. So the best I've ever done is when I found half of one in the pan handle of Florida, and I've treasured it as the closest I've ever come to finding the valuable token. So here it was, unlooked for, unthought of: my very own sand dollar! Funny how things turn up when you're not looking for them. . . .

We soon decided to go out to eat. After all, it was New Years Eve, and we were together as a family. Almost everyone was there, so why shouldn't we enjoy ourselves? But as we entered Old Country Buffet, who should we bump into but our Uncle Wally and Aunt Nancy! Talk about coincidences.

So then we went back (did I mention that we illegally put a passenger in the back of the Suburu?). But first of all, Craig called, at about two o'clock in the morning his time, and wished us a happy New Year, since we had tried to call him at his midnight. Isn't it odd to think how ahead of us most of the world is?

Of course we had a sort of watch night service as always. Haven't you heard that we're one of the only families to have church services on vacation? Well New Years is no exception. But we only went for an hour, then took a little over an hour break. Then the last few minutes we prayed together again, but at my request, Daddy released us to watch the ball drop. And I have never seen the ball drop. Most of my family hasn't either, though I might vaguely remember seeing it once. Are you shocked? You shouldn't be. After all, in my case I'm either usually in bed or in meeting. There's nothing shocking about that. But I must say that we were surprised as we watched it slowly descend--if it's "dropping," shouldn't it be a sudden thing? This slow meandering seemed kind of fake. Maybe they should call it the "ball crawl" instead. Doesn't it have more of a ring to it? But I guess it shows what lot we know. . . . .

Finally, we toasted with sparkling grape juice, and eventually, bed found us.