random pix

And now here are a few scattered shots that I've taken fairly recently:

Playing volleyball during a Florida sunset
(that's Jeff and Kim by the way)

One of my gorgeous birthday flowers that Cara gave me

The wicked cool crab claw I found on the beach in Newport.
The only reason I didn't keep it is that there was a fly or two attracted to it. This bad sign and Megan's experienced advice reminded me that there was still meat inside (ew), but of course I just had to take a picture of it!

This is NOT digitally edited!
You have now seen with your own eyes that I was nearly gobbled up by a ferocious giant! Luckily Craig saved me--but only after he took the picture.
("A friend in need is a friend indeed," just hope that your friend isn't a photographer!:)

An orchid
(National Biological Gardens in Washington D.C.)

The graduations in the family

You may have wondered why I didn't have any individual pictures of Clyde in my last post. That's because you get to see him right here--as the graduate!

First of all though is the renowned end of the year party and skits. Here's one of the guys' skits concerning "the real Clyde" in dorm life. Basically he made Dave and Andrew wait on him hand and foot ("Dave I need a footstool. . . Dave, you are the footstool.") In this picture Andrew is tasting Clyde's drink before giving it to him ("Good, you're not dead.")

And now here he is, after the graduation!
(check out the amazing cake that Mary made! Complete with a combination in which you can't go wrong: a Bible, Warrior Songbook, and Red Sox hat, made completely out of cake:)

Naturally we had to sneak in a many family pix as possible--this one is the night after the graduation as well

And a week later in VA at Kendra's graduation!

Class Trip! (an age later)

Yay, today is picture day! Well, a few at least. I could have put these up a week or two ago but I never got around to scanning them until recently. So now everybody here are just a few shots from class trip, now over a month ago:

Bria shivering in Clyde's humongous sweat-shirt

Kate!

Megan!

Andrew!

Dave!

The lovely second year gals

Someone definitely high on my favorite people's list :)

Rachel's hair (artwork by Megan:)

Vanlora joking around while Diane looks at her as if she's crazy

Katie!
(hand in blur from the amazing frisbee or football throw just carried out)

Everybody!

*Sigh* What a great year.:)

I'm It!

Oh yeah, I was tagged awhile ago, so here I am responding (finally, Cara!). I would have done it earlier but I didn't want to take the time to think up random facts, but now I'll take a wing at it:

1. Lilacs, Pine Sol, paint thinner, and gasoline have all been on my list of likeable scents. :)

2. I used to eat clover all the time, along with wheat berries, uncooked macaroni, and salt, salt, salt!

3. I've been to 46 states.

4. I never knew how to do a somersault until Laura kindly taught me when I was about ten. I was relieved to widen my skills in an area that I had been embarrassed at my lack of.:)

5. I've had 6-10 teeth pulled out by a dentist or specialist (two teeth being permanent and not my wisdom teeth), had plastic put on my two front teeth to make them grow straight, and have had three teeth knocked out and my tongue split as a result from being knocked by three different peoples' heads.

6. I used to think that our heads were full of nothing but the insides of pretzels, and that my cousin Aaron used to be a girl. Also I would lie awake at night trying to figure out what that strange noise was (my pulse throbbing steadily in my temples). Was it Clyde sleeping nearby? No. I determined that it was my eardrum (since it's an eardrum, it must make a thrumming noise, right?)

7. I almost drowned when I once stepped off the bottom step in the shallow end of a swimming pool. I tried to scream for help underwater but it didn't really work, except producing a stream of bubbles. Luckily my mommy leaped in to save me.:) By the way I was not ten, but four. I may have been a pathetic child not knowing how to somersault, but I wasn't that pathetic.

I hope this isn't lame, but I don't feel like tagging anyone, and I don't know if there's anyone left who even wants to be tagged, so ta ta!

Ya gotta love young humor!

And now lades and gents, I'm going to refresh you all with a bit of eight-year-old poetry. I discovered it at the back of one of my old notebooks my mom unearthed when she was cleaning out the attic and it pleased me greatly. It's different than the normal poetry style, but I think I must have had a lot of fun with it! (oh yes and I'm taking some liberties on line arrangement and a little punctuation, but this is very close to the original young scrawly poem)

There once was a person who played the cello,

By the way he was a fellow,

The fellow's name was Carmello,

Oh yes and his favorite food was jello,

He also liked bananas along with all their yellow,

One day when he met me he said with a bellow,

"Hello!"

Then we went to the lounge and played Othelo.

Carmello is nice,

Oh yes I forgot his last name is Mice,

Once I said to him when we were playing a game, "Hurry up with the dice!"

I said as I ate an orange slice,

For Carmello was still eating his rice,

"Crunch" I then heard my brother eating ice,

Then (later) Carmello went home and I just got word that he has lice!

Oooh yes, I think I enjoyed coming up with as many words that rhymed as possible. It had a little ring to it, don't you think?:)

How about a sneak peak of my eight-year-old humor? I won't give you the worst of them, but watch out, these can get pretty bad!

Q: What happened to the elephant when he sat on a Bible?

A: He couldn't get up.

Q: How come girls like girl dolls best?

A:They think there are too many boys already.

Q: How come elephants don't wear glasses?

A: They can't fit in the glasses shop.

Now that I've killed every respect you had for poetry and jokes, I'll just say I hope ya'll have a happy Sabbath!

When it rains, it pours

I don't know if you've ever noticed it before, but I have a tendency to blog in sudden bursts. I may go through one long dry spell of no posting at all, but occasionally, when I get the urge to blog, I may be overflowing with ideas. So now you are forewarned that for me (sometimes), when it rains, it pours. So be ready for whenever my spontaneous creativity may suddenly spout forth, and be prepared to take it in big gulps--because the four latest posts might have been written on the same day, so you should read all of them.:)

But anyway, at Clyde's bibleschool graduation weekend my whole family was together for the first time in over a year, so of course we had to take full advantage of the unusual occasion by getting some family pictures taken. Not professionally of course, but if you have someone willing and wonderful like Diane, what more do you need? I've actually been wanting to post this for awhile, but certain complications have prevented me, but now I'm finally here to present to you the NRS family in all their glory! Oddly enough, the first picture that Diane took on the digital camera was taken when she didn't really know it, but it turned out to be my favorite.

Aren't we the cutest family in all the world?
(after yours of course--she says to curry as much favor as possible:)

p.s. If you're wondering, Chad is really the tallest and Clyde is really the shortest (by a very little bit), but the ground slope put them in reverse order of height.:)

Could mortification be shaped like an octagon?

I had a mortifying experience today. My driving instructor had to use The Brake on me. How terrible is that? In all of my driving experience so far he has never once had to touch The Brake (at least not that I'm aware of), which of course has pleased me to no end to think that maybe he doesn't actually need it for me. For there are, let me assure you, people in my class who have needed it when I've been in the car. One poor girl just didn't seem to be able to manage time and space enough so that twice she tried to turn at an intersection when there wasn't time for her to turn. Lucky for us, Mr. K. had The Brake. So of course it was only natural that I obtained a certain measure of pride with my unblemished record of not needing The Brake.

"Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall."

Yes, I am convicted.

What sullied this stainless reputation of mine? Why one of the most elusive driving traps of all time: the stop sign.

We were in the Target parking lot. I was going at an appropriate slow speed, keeping an eye out for pedestrians. We came to the entrance of Target at the crosswalk and I looked all around. No pedestrians in sight. Okay, I'm good to go. But as I continued to slowly coast forward, an unexpected force stopped me. Surprised, I turned to my instructor, who pointed way way up and a little behind us.

"What color is that sign up there?"

Craning my neck, I answered ruefully, "Red."

"What shape is it?"

"Octagon."

"What do we do at it?"

"Stop," came my meek reply.

Um, yeah. I ran through my first stop sign. I admit it, confessing it for the whole world to know and ridicule! Now I'm prone to wonder: could mortification be shaped like an octagon?

The major problem is, I just simply didn't see it. "Duh," you're saying, (which you probably aren't since I know how mature all my readers are), "how could you miss a big red sign? It's not that hard to see." Yes, I must say I don't really have a good excuse. But let me remind you that we were in front of Target, and what color is everywhere outside a Target store? Red, red, red--red balls, red lines, red targets, so how am I supposed to notice a red sign, especially when it's at an unusually tall height and hung from a peculiar red arch? Who ever heard of decorating a stop sign post anyway? It's just not normal, so of course I wasn't going to respond as one normally would. Which, speaking of normal, as we sat there talking about the sign a car came sailing right by us on the left as if the stop sign didn't exist. Huh, so how many people notice these strange red octagonal signs in the real world? Probably not many. But as Mr. K. would say, we're not getting ready for just the real world. It's the DMV world a driving student is most concerned about. And that's what I can't afford to fail.

(sound of trembling)

Look before you leap!

Why does one do things that don't make sense? You'd think that as human creatures, we would have learned a long time ago to look before we leap, but why is it that we don't think to look until we're landing no where but in empty space? Aha, yes, that is indeed the time when it occurs to everyone that maybe they should have looked first, as they gaze with a hypnotized stare into the abyss below them. "So that's where that expression comes from," they say, as light dawns on granite head.

And now that I've eased you into a philosophical mood, I now am going to talk about bugs. Yes, bugs. Especially when they're in excess. They're these little annoying things just begging to be victimized, but how is one to go about it? Is it by letting them nonchalantly fly into your mouth, like I did during our softball game a last week?(believe me though, I didn't let the little monster in, he just insisted on entering, heedless of his potentially soggy demise) Do you let them dart onto your eyelid, where you squash them when they have no where to turn? Or go around hoping that they'll wander into your ear and meet up with some toxic earwax? However if you do this there's always the chance that they won't be smothered by your earwax, as the recent story of a guy who discovered he had a spider or two living on his eardrum testifies. Thankfully none of us are that stupid though, to go wandering around cupping our ears in hopes that we'll trap a straying fly inside and kill him humanely. That's probably why mosquitoes have such an annoying whine, because otherwise we might let them make their homes in there.

So, I see a fly (never mind what kind, suffice to know that it was a flying bug) in our mini van, and I have no tools to use with which to swat it with. What would you do? Use the blessed tools that God has given you of course, since there are few swatters more effective than the old-fashioned hand. So, I reach across the car and over Andrew's head (did I mention this was during class trip?) and "SMASH!" Victory is mine. Or is it? Too late, I gaze into the abyss to see the dead creature fixed firmly onto our lovely car ceiling. Nice.

What were you thinking? Clyde basically says to me. "That's like something Andrew would do."

I'm not sure that's a compliment.

So then you suggest that I try to squeeze the bug instead. Well this doesn't always work, since the last time I tried that I successfully snatched the bug out of the air, but after giving a proper hard squeeze I let go and there the fiend just flew away. Grr.

So then the other day a mosquito came whining it's way along and plopped itself on my Norway journal which I was reading. Perfect. This time I was going to play it smart. I didn't want mosquito guts pasted on my journal pages for posterity, so I decided that I would use my hands, and this time I was going to use both of them. Who cares if I get mosquito guts on my hands anyway? People aren't going to be scanning my hands a hundred years from now to find out what I was like (or I hope they're not going to), so it's much better to protect my sacred journal. So, surreptitiously I moved my hands in, palms downward for the kill. Squash goes the dratted little mosque-eat-toe between the sides of my hands.

Whoosh!

Splat!

Squirt!

Splash!

What I'd failed to realize is that this mosquito wasn't searching for a meal. He was simply digesting it.

Ew, gross!

Instead of the squashed black mosquito remains I had so wisely feared upon the precious page of my journal, there lay a big bright red drop of blood (probably mine), not to mention what was on my hands. So now I got both the mosquito and his meal conquered in one fell swoop. Luckily I was able to dab my journal page with a tissue to get the worst of the drop soaked up, but still remains the blood stain to this day and for eternity. So if some day down the road when I'm dead you're reading my journal entry for Monday, May 30, 2005. . . "So we got in the long line to wait. It wasn't very long though, and soon we were going through security, which thankfully didn't have*splat* a long line." You'll know that the *splat* is my famed mosquito kill. I've now preserved the story behind that strange bloodstain for posterity. People will now be relieved to know that I didn't get stabbed in the Oslo airport.

And thus my amazing story ends.

Happy things from Driver's Ed.

Happy things from driver's ed:

~When asked the question as to the Blood Alcohol Concentration you're legally intoxicated at, a classmate guessed 50%. Um, thankfully the law doesn't let people drive with a BAC of 49%, because most likely they'd be dead by then. The legal limit for those over 21, by the way, is 0.08%.

~Hearing about the motorcyclist who got run over by a turkey.

~A class mate is freaked out about changing from glasses to contacts because he's convinced that somehow he'll get them stuck around and up in his eyes and won't be able to get them out. "Just give yourself a good whack on the back of the head," my teacher tells him. "Yep, works every time for me," I chime in.

~Laughing at the AAA movies when the people talking keep popping out from behind signs.

~Asking a dumb question in a rhetorical fashion to make a joke in the car and the guy sitting next to me answering it. "Um, thanks. . . that was a rhetorical question." "Oh."

~Being honked at when the light had just turned green and Victor (my teacher) comforting me by saying that the Q-tip (his disrespectful term for the elderly) in the car behind us was doing nothing but staring at the light (which is a sign of a new driver).

~Exploring a new lake on a beautiful day and driving on top of a dam that neither me nor my teacher had been to.

~Classmate: "I have never finished a book. I got from A-Z and that was enough for me. . . I can't stand to sit in a chair." (don't ask me how he drives) Instead he'd rather stand in the middle of the room watching the Antique Road Show!

~Successfully parallel parking.

~Learning from Victor of vast knowledge that NH has more motorcycles than any state in the Union and Rte. 137 is one of their favorite roads.

~Being told that I should try the type of car racing in Europe that's done on curvy country roads; supposedly I may be able to handle it.

~Learning that Victor has been to Norway (who goes to Norway but cool people anyway? Not that anyone reading this isn't already cool, but only cool people travel to a place like that:)

~When our teacher said that NH is the only state in the Union to not have a law enforcing seat belt wearing, a classmate ("Earl") piped up with appropriate joyful defiance, "Live free or die."

~So why do some people not want a seat belt law in NH? "They're uncomfortable," an often distracted classmate answers. Victor replies, "So you'd rather be comfortable and dead instead of uncomfortable and alive?"

~"Why get angry?" Victor says in the car. "You probably lose six months of your life every time you get mad." Classmate: "My mom is going to die real soon."

~"And we saw this woman police officer arresting this man and taking him to her vehicle. What I was concerned about was how he was supposed to wear his seat belt with his hands behind his back," my teacher says in class. "Well you see they have these little cubby holes for your hands. . . " a classmate informs him. Awed, Victor asked him how he knew that, but he smiled and wouldn't say! Hmm. . .

~Hearing classmate's road rage stories--both serious and amusing

~The unforgettable quote: "I don't try to keep a nursing home schedule." :) (see earlier post)

~Lots of laughs and new things learned in general.

Where have I been?

I don't know if you've been checking my blog regularly enough to notice it or not, but in case you didn't, I haven't posted for quite some time. This isn't because I've been detesting my blog of late or even because my life as been as boring as hay (I'm not sure if hay is really that boring, but that was the first common thing that popped into my head so you'll just have to deal with it), but simply because I've been too busy to bother with it! Now I've come to realize that many people who blog do so because it's really important to them or because they really have nothing else better to do. I was going to say that all you blog writers blog just because you have nothing better to do, but I decided that that's a little too harsh and I know that none of you come close to being lazy, so I shouldn't even imply such a thing, right? But that's the way I almost feel--blogging is only something you do if you have time to do it, and frankly, I don't feel like I've been having that. However, the Sabbath is a wonderful solution, and hence I am here. All that long paragraph to say that I've just been too busy to write. . . . .

"But what, Kayla," you say, "could you have possibly been busy doing to make your life so full? You don't work full time like me or have to stay up until five in the morning doing school, so what's the matter with you? You must not be all that busy; you surely could have found time to write sometime." That could be true, but I'm not here to argue upon that point.

So what have I been busy doing? Was it my wonderful sixteenth birthday that took up so much time? Naturally that was fairly busy, and I was lucky enough to have the last snowfall of the year four days before to melt and give me some gorgeous spring weather, and Andrew's adoption party went well, as well as having my family home for a ping-pong and pool party. In that party I got properly creamed in ping-pong by Mom, Chad, and Craig, but I managed to pull off a win with Clyde even though he claimed he didn't start spinning the ball until half way through the game; I also won a game of pool with my Dad. No, my birthday wasn't the only thing.

Was it fast day, perchance? Maybe.

Was it class trip? That could have been it. We were gone for three days in RI, and that was a lot of fun, going to Boston and Newport and such delightful places. In fact if it had happened more recently and I could remember more about it I would write about it maybe, but not this time.

Was it all those hours of classes you had to watch to make up for being gone on class trip? Well, five forty-five minute classes plus assignments and a quiz and a test were a little much for a day, but that wasn't terrible.

Perhaps it was your violin lessons and your recital? Could be.

Or was it the May Feast when you spent two days going to meetings? Part of it.

Could it have been your school, midweek meetings, sports, the end of the year party, and Clyde's bibleschool graduation? (Yes, Clyde has now joined the ranks of bibleschool alumni!:) Sort of.

And now that you have gotten thoroughly bored of trying to read or guess as to why my life has been so full, you probably stopped reading this awhile ago. Now I know how to weed out the die-hards to find out who really wants to know what I've been up to. Well, I've told you part of it, but there's a little more. . . . .

What's one of the first questions a sixteen-year-old is often asked? Yep, "So have you started driving?" And finally, after months of neglect and lack of practice, my answer would have to be YES!

"Aha!" you say. "I am starting to understand."

No, I don't already have my driver's license.

But let me go back and tell you about our amazing answer to prayer. A few months ago we heard about a driving school in Peterborough that isn't connected with any of the public schools. Jayne R. was going to (and has) take it, and we started to plan on signing me up for it. Jayne said her class was pretty small so I should be able to get in pretty easily, so we weren't too worried until the day last month when my mom called up to have my name put down and found that they were booked!!!

So what now?

Another option would be to do driving under ConVal in July and August in the dead middle of the summer, or to wait until fall. Neither sounded very appealing. So what do we do when we don't know what to do? Pray. And so on my birthday, we prayed. On fast day, we prayed. When my mom called up the morning of the first day of classes, she was informed that there still wasn't space and to call the next day to find out if someone didn't show up.

"Keep your fingers crossed," he told my mom.

"Well I'm going to pray, that's a lot better than keeping my fingers crossed," my mom told him with a laugh.

So what did we do when she got off the phone? We prayed some more. It was funny, because somehow I really felt at peace, like somehow I knew that God was going to get me into the class. And even if He didn't, it would be easy to know that that's not what He wanted because if I didn't make it in it would simply mean that He didn't want me to be there. But somehow that really didn't seem like a possibility. Well, the guy called back an hour or so later, leaving a message for mom to call him, and when she did he asked her if she was still praying. She told him that we had prayed together about it, and he told her that she could stop (at least I think that's what she said he said). Then he asked her if we knew Jayne R. When told that actually yes, she comes to our church, he replied quickly,

"Well because of that, you're in. I hope she's as good a student as Jayne is."

Wow.

I guess that's the wonderful thing about being good friends with the top student of his last class. Not only that but it blesses me to think that because of Jayne's diligence and good testimony I was able to get in. So now I have to be a good student.

And what more need I say? I've already had four classes and a couple driving sessions, and it feels like all my free evening time is taken up with studying for driver's ed or trying to get my driving time in with my parents. I already had a quiz that I was pretty nervous about, but it went quite well for me, even though due to stress and a lack of sleep last weekend I got a headache and had to miss volleyball and go to bed early. I basically love my instructor and my fifteen person class, and I'm so "cooled out" that DCA's pastor's daughter who came to Character Camp a few years ago is in the class with me.

Actually, our class was originally fourteen people, but during the second class, Victor (my driving instructor) made a proposition for us. He told us that there was a homeschooled girl who signed up and didn't know she was supposed to be sixteen before the end of the class. The class was due to end the 22nd of June, and her birthday is on the 24th. All the other driver's ed courses in the area are booked for the summer. So he asked us if we were willing to have the final test on the 25th instead of the 22nd so she could be part of the class, and the class voted and almost everyone agreed to let her come! How nice is that? It will probably mean that I'll miss the first night of girls' week, but at least I was able to do my part to make somebody's day.

And now I'm going to close with a quote from one of my classmates. I think I'm supposed to be careful in what I tell other people about my classmates, but if I take the step to preserve the knowledge of their identity, I think sometimes this will be took good to miss. So anyway, I was sitting in the back seat of the driver's ed car yesterday afternoon observing as a guy we had just picked up from Conval drove through Peterborough toward Dublin, and Victor, my instructor, was suddenly remembering that he had forgotten to order pizza for his Friday night dinner. Victor always eats pizza on Friday nights, he explained. So turning to our fine student driver, who we'll call Earl, he asked,

"So Earl, do you have anything you usually eat on Friday nights?"

"No, not really. I don't try to keep a nursing home schedule." Victor, who must be in his fifties, laughed heartily at this, acknowledging the insult he had just received. Then looking at Earl's plaid pants and fifties plaid hat (he always seems to be wearing plaid), he said to him a few minutes later,

"Well at least I don't look like I'm dressed like someone in a nursing home."

Wowed

Here are my two facts that I learned a couple weeks ago in Biology and am still delighting in:

Did you know. . . . that throughout your lifetime your body produces enough spit to fill two swimming pools?

There's hope for Bria yet! (even if she doesn't know how to propel it from her mouth:)

Did you know. . . . that you (if you're average) sweat about a cup of sweat a day, even if your sitting in a cool room with little physical exercise? And if that isn't enough, imagine how much you can sweat on a hot day with strenuous activity--up to two gallons!

But as my biology teacher would say (who is a South Carolinan right now and a Florida girl by birth), "We in the South don't sweat, but perspire."

So now try whipping these two facts out sometime when you're at the dinner table. Everyone will be wowed (or sickened) by your vast knowledge! They also might not be able to finish their dinner, but that's okay.

Hmm, I hope they just estimated these figures. I'd hate to see someone actually measuring them all out. . .

So tell me, how does this bit of trivia leave you? Wowed, happy, or utterly grossed out?

Finally. . . the fans! (or a few of them)

If you're not generally accustomed to reading a day's worth of posts from the bottom up so that they're in order, I suggest you do so. Otherwise this might make only half the sense it's supposed to.

Anyway, here they are!

The colorful masses of Red Sox and Reds fans

Kim surveying the field (and waiting for famous people to appear)

My beautful family!

Hopefully Kim won't kill me for this one. . .
but I still like the picture!

English and Hebrew Red Sox brothers (+KJ:)

And KJ again!

The game

So now here we have a weensy peek of the game. I didn't take as many pictures as some people in my family, but neither are these all of them!

I'm not sure, but this might be Papelbon pitching

Ditto to the last pic, but it could perhaps be Hanson too
(the guy who walked the bases loaded for us--ouch)

This is actually during the warm-up, not the game, but I didn't have room in other places for all my Varitek pictures, so I had to include him here because I like him so much. Besides, he's Kim's favorite (I think), so here he is just in case she sees this!

And Varitek again!

The players

We may not have gotten to see Schilling, Ortiz, Manny, and Damon (shudder) like we did last time, but there were still a couple of stars there nonetheless. Ya gotta love them!

Coco Crisp doing his stretches
(just in case it wasn't self-explanatory to you)

Matsuzaka!
(he better be worth all that dough)

Jason Varitek

Kyle Snyder
(one woman was so tickled when she got him to sign a Yankees hat:)

Players that nobody seems to know
(I'm not sure that Clyde had any success, if any of you Sox-savvy people happen to know, feel free to tell me!)

Blessed encouragement

Warning: I apologize, but this is a very unspiritual post.

Grr! Snow, snow, snow! Will it ever stop? Somehow "I'm dreaming of a white Easter" doesn't sound quite as appealing as the way the song is supposed to go.

And yet--and yet!

Hope rains.

Yes, ladies and gents, we're having rain! Can you believe it? Our five inches (it might be more, I haven't actually measured it) is ever so gradually being washed away by a semi steady pour. And the world is gray, so gray. . . .

And so I am reminded that it wasn't that long ago (three weeks to be exact) that we were in the sunny land of Florida. And attending a Red Sox spring training game no less. And since I've finally gotten my pictures developed, I decided to encourage you through this helpless waste by way of reminder that there is sunshine left in the world, and it's coming our way! And the Red Sox can usually make one happy (or disappointed, if you are of a pessimistic nature, but if that's the case I can't help you so you better deal with it), so voila!

First of all. . .

Taken at the Vic Market, Melbourne, Australia
The most prominent "foreign" jersey I saw on display
If that isn't proof that Red Sox rule all over the earth, I don't know what is!

These Red Sox hat pictures taken in Florida are supposed to make you feel all warm and fuzzy and make you look forward to seeing pictures of the game

Here's the field!
(in Sarasota taken from where we sat in the back)

And here comes Red Sox manager Terry Francona!

(hey Aaron, did I spell that right?:)

My Mother-in-law went to Israel. . . .

Once upon a time there was this man. And this man decided to tour the Holy Land with his wife and mother-in-law. And then, (careful, this could get graphic!) the mother-in-law up and dies. Deeply perplexed, the man decided to consult a mortician and ask him how much it would cost to ship his mother-in-law home for her soon-to-be-needed burial.

"Hmm," said the mortician, stroking his pointy white goatee. "That would cost you about $15,000."

Disgruntled, the man stammered, "We-ell, how much would it cost to just bury her here?"

Three hundred bucks, came the reply.

Unfamiliar with the bartering system, the man hesitated long and hard, his look pained. "Uhhhhhh, I'll ship her home."

Astounded, the mortician forgot that he was supposed to milk the guy for his money and asked, "Why? You could save tons of money if you just buried her here."

"Well," replied the man, "two thousand years ago a man was buried here and three days later He rose from the dead--I can't take that chance!"

Happy Easter.:)

happy to be here

In case you didn't know it, my family is on spring break. In case you didn't know it, we are in Florida. aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh (that's a sigh of contentment in case you couldn't tell)

The first happy thing about the trip is that we rented a car expressly to make it. Not that we're rolling in extra dough, but to make a long story short our car wasn't up for the ride and when Mr. P.B. (haha, I never realized those were his initials:) didn't get us a car in time he proposed that the directors rent one for us. After all, for a pastor's family, every vacation turns into a ministry opportunity somewhere down the road. It's amazing on how many "vacations" my dad ends up having the church service. . . but such is the life for someone in his line of work. Anyway, the car is of ultimate sweetness. I mean of ultimate sweetness within reasonability (no, Cara, we did not get a Lamborghini!). It's a white 2007 Toyota Sienna with all the technology such a title entails, except for a DVD player. And since my family has almost never owned a car younger than 7 years old, we could hardly get over the delights of discovering every amazing detail . Man, we don't even have to shut the sliding door if we're not inclined to it! Just press a button, and the door magically slides into place. For someone who is accustomed to learning the "art" of closing a broken mini-van door, this new luxury seems almost sacreligious. It just doesn't seem right to not have to expend any muscle energy to close a door, right?

The next happy thing is that we made our trek through the night safely without incident, making the trip in aproximately 21-22 hours, but that included stopping for a big breakfast. :)

We then got to camp out in my Uncle Hudson's condo for a couple of days. Here we got to read, watch TV, walk on the beach, go swimming, or just sit in the sun. And boy did I love this last activity! As a northerner who has just come through a real winter, I felt like I just couldn't get enough warmth and sunshine to fill me up, but I had to just bask in it. So bask I did, usually with a book, soaking in the cool off-shore breezes coming in from the bay just fifteen yards away.

Also as a northerner, I think I got a little too carried away. Sunscreen is sort of an unheard of term in my vocabulary, at least beyond the basic face and shoulders requirements, so as you can imagine, I got my results. Luckily I didn't turn into a lobster back, but I did become decidedly ruddy and just a little sensitive skinned. To the rest of the world I may be a little pink, but that's just because they're blind to my rich tan complexion, or soon-to-be one, that is.(hehe)

The next happy thing is that we got to go to a Red Sox spring training game!!! Wahoo!(this is where you are permitted to turn a ghastly green as you wallow in envy) We picked up Kimberly at the library and then zoomed on down to Sarasota to see if we could purchase the much desired tickets. With no problem we bought them, and before going in, I took the opportunity to slather on some of KJ's sunscreen to protect myself from the fierce Florida sun. I was a little wary of overexposure to the sun beyond what I'd already had, and in all likelihood I'm already going to get sun cancer and die so why make it worse than it has to be? Actually maybe with that outlook I didn't need to put on sunscreen at all because if I'm going to die anyway why bother? But of course even with this optimistic view the possibility has occurred to me that maybe I won't die of skin cancer after all, so I had best be prepared in case I don't. Anyway, if you like irony, it actually turned out that our seats were in the shade, so now that I finally had on sunscreen it didn't do me much over all good.

Well the game was fun, even if we did get crushed (it was that dumb Hanson pitcher). If you want to know more about it, read KJ's blog, or if you've already read it, then there's not much point in me telling you more about it, especially since very soon I shall tire of writing if I try to. Let it suffice to say that we got a pretty good view behind home plate, even if we were at the very top, and it was fun seeing Varitek and Cocoa Crisp (why do I feel like people are talking about what they had for breakfast whenever his name is mentioned?) while trying to take pictures of them.

Another happy thing is that today we went to the flea market. Here we got to wander around admiring people's junk. Well that's not true. If you've been to a flea market you can find some pretty nice newish stuff there. It was fun though, and Craig, Clyde, and I broke a deal with a guy and came away with eight Calvin and Hobbes books (a vast treasure!) and I came away with a pair of blue and silver plastic sunglasses that I only bought because they were cool and cheap.

Also today we made the greatly anticipated stop to the big Good Will that we all love. This is where I might differ from some girls. I'm not one of those people that just loves to go shopping, especially, especially at the mall (though the mall is fun). I may enjoy outlet stores, but since they are usually out of my price range and maybe style and taste, I generally glance through the items and am finished. Of course, on the other hand, outlet malls are practically paradise for my sister. In fact just during this vacation when we've passed outlet malls we've told the invisible Kendra to take a look at the tree on the other side of the road. It doesn't matter that she's hundreds of miles away--we just have to make sure she doesn't catch sight of those outlet malls, or we're all done for. However, despite my not being one largely inclined to extensive clothes shopping, I am particularly partial to second hand stores. In fact, probably half of my wardrobe is second hand. This I got at the Salvation Army, or the Dublin Rummage sale, or the Trinity Free Clothes Giveaway, or Good Will. So I was pleased to be able to come in and peruse the long aisles of strange out-of-style skirts, because you never know when you may find a gem. So, (and since I don't want to bore you) after eliminating countless possibilites, I came away with about two skirts and two shirts, which is quite a triumph since I can be picky. Ah, Goodwill is a good place.

And with that note of good will, I bid you good night, if you will.

More hot off the press!

If you don't know what I'm talking about by "more" hot off the press, you'll have to read the explanation in my preceeding post. The first few are from the bibleschool's trip to Friendlies, which I mentioned a month or so ago. The other two are from the more recent youth weekend.

I love candid photos when I'm brave enough to take them! I finally got up my courage to try it out at Friendlies, and here is one of my results. Even though Bria appears to be looking at the camera, she really didn't know I was taking the picture until right afterward!
I love that girl.:)

Clyde and his 12-scoop "crowd pleaser" caused quite a stir!

I've found the secret of taking pictures of camera shy Megan--the telephoto lense! Since she was all the way down at the other end of the table, she was even partially oblivious to the fact that I was plotting her picture. She glances at the camera, and snap! I am satisfied.

I suppose when you heard about "bobbing in jello" you hoped that people took pictures. Yep, well I did! Or just a couple anyway (I might have more on my next roll, I don't remember). Here is poor Cara Beth braving her way through the hard-to-see-through messy stuff. But in case you can't tell, she had a fun time as well!

Here are the victorious jello smeared Cara and Becca!
Don't you just adore them?
(too bad I didn't get to Cara before she wiped her face first though--I almost asked her to stop for me but realized that would be too cruel since her team's time clock was running)

Comments would be lovely!
(e.g. "they're very messy;" "he's so ridiculous;" "she's so gorgeous")

Hot off the press

The problem with film cameras is that they're just too slow. I love film, but if you're trying to save money like me, by the time you get your film developed the pictures are a month old or so. What's more, if you're also like me, you don't get around to scanning them for another couple months and by the time you think of putting them on your blog they're ancient history! But today I'm changing that. So, although some of the pictures are still over a month old, I'm taking them on the very day I received them, scanning them, and putting them up for all the world to admire my latest masterpieces. Hence, I'm going to put up my favorites in two different posts.

The floating star candle that Meredith gave me for Christmas
(thanks Meredith!)

Um, this is a squashed pumpkin in our front yard. I found it hiding partly under our porch from last fall, and I thought "Color? Photo op!" So I stuck it on our front lawn and when the ice storm came I snapped its picture. The problem is that the ice froze it to the ground, and now it lies buried beneath the snow to wait until spring. Pleasant thoughts. . . .

My favorite sister trying out her new toy!

Three Blunders

Lately I've been e-mailing my posts to my blog in order to save time going on-line with dial-up. The problem with this is that I just discovered that one of my e-mails didn't get posted! Therefore, although this is nearly a week old and not as interesting (to me anyway) as my latest post, I shall not neglect the proper chronicling of my life, so here it is:

The blog, of all strange creations, is supposedly meant to report about your life. Unfortunately, if I were to truly report everything I did right here on my blog, it would not only be very uninteresting, but it would probably put you to sleep with its somnolence. However, I must report that if you didn't already know it, I just attended a youth weekend. So I gathered up all my personal belongings, crammed them into a duffel bag, and made the long 45 second drive down to join the ranks of all the other young folk who were arriving. And to put it in short, the weekend was spectacular. But then you probably aren't surprised at that, because aren't youth weekends supposed to be like that? Anyway, I hardly feel like reporting everything we did. Let it suffice to say that we had some swell meetings about the Holy Spirit, played games such as telephone pictionary, guess-the-person's-name-stuck-on-your-forehead (e.g. Calvin from Calvin and Hobbes), Moose, bobbing for candy in jello, snow sculpting, commercial making, scavenger hunts, spoons, fuse ball basketball, take-a-warball-and-hit-the-paper-bags-of-candy (some would call it a very ugly pinata), sledding, amazing games of ultimate frisbee, twists of warball, soccer, etc, etc, etc. You get the picture.

As I mentioned, we went sledding. Yaaaayyy! The majority of the young people went (um, maybe fifteen or so), and it was jolly fun coasting down the semi grand slopes of the golf course. Meredith the Southern gal even claimed that she had never been sledding besides in her back yard, which had accumulated a mere five inches of snow, so this was pretty much a brand new experience for her, which was neat. As we prepared to leave and go home, I went down the hill for my final time, and just felt like standing there before moving on. Then Josh (meaning the one from bibleschool), who was standing at the top of the hill, started to yell for someone, so I looked up and heard him calling, "Jonathon, come up here! Jonathon, come! Jonathon A_____ come up here this instant!"

I was puzzled.

Having a nagging suspicion, I looked around, and saw Jonathon sitting calmly in his sled at the top of the hill a little ways down from Josh. He seemed to be turning curiously in response to Josh's order, perhaps trying to figure out how he was supposed to turn and obey if he wasn't disobeying in the first place!(or maybe he wasn't thinking such noble thoughts, but reading little boys' minds is beyond me) I then glanced all around me and realized with a shock that I was the only one at the bottom of the hill. Josh was mistaking me for a five-year-old boy! Oh my goodness! Still uncertain, despite the horrifying evidence, I yelled back up the hill, "Jonathon is over there!" I pointed. There was a pause, as Josh turned to verify my statement. Who knows what mortified thoughts might have been flooding through is mind just then, but if he was at all embarrassed, he did little to show it, and only replied, "Oh, I thought you were Jonathon." Jonathon, indeed! As Joe March from Broadway would say (or rather sing), "The nerve! The gall!"

Ugh. I made a mistake of my own. We were playing sports, my water had run out, and I was extremely thirsty. Very bad combination. I also knew that if I didn't drink something before going on to the next sport, I would probably start to feel sick. So I hurriedly ran out to stuff snow into my water bottle in hopes of it melting. Too impatient, I took a handful, stuffed it into my mouth, and started to go back inside. "Puh!" I spat it back out. In my eagerness to relieve my dehydration, I hadn't observed the snow very carefully. Actually, I couldn't really scrutinize it at all because it was too dark outside. So because of this I had managed to cram a bunch of dirty snow into my hatch! What a rude awakening. . . I then had to attempt cleaning out the grit from my teeth by spitting as much of the dirt out as possible (outside in a safe spot of course). As some great genius once put it, "Ew."

The next morning I volunteered to do dishes after breakfast. Instead, I received the assignment of vacuuming the library, parlor, and front hall. That's not so bad. After all, I'm not really all that afraid of vacuum cleaners any more, and I thought it might be faster than doing dishes anyway. So plugged up old Kirby, received a few instructions from Bria on how to run the clunky antique, and prepared to begin. Danny even came in the library, and when I commented on the age of the weighty artifact, he chuckled and said that they bought it brand new when he was in bibleschool about thirteen years ago (I guess I should be careful when I call something antiquated because it might make someone feel really old) Anyway, I began my task. Huh, my arms were still sore from playing sports--man, this vacuum cleaner is heavy! I tackled the machine with a weak vigor (if that makes sense), practically using my whole body to propel it forward, marvelling at how very awful it must have been for everyone to use such vacuum cleaners all the time. I must just be extremely wimpy. . . no matter, it really wasn't so bad when you got used to it. Hence I finished the library, and then the parlor. As I completed this last room, Vanlora came over and asked me if the vacuum cleaner was working. Yes, it was working fine but it was just kind of heavy, was my cheerful enough reply. She looked at the vacuum cleaner and flipped a switch.

"Um, you had it in neutral. That should be easier now."

"You had it in neutral, Kayla?" Bria cried with a tone of great distress and sympathy. "I'm so sorry!" Sheepish, I laughed and said that I guess I didn't listen to her instructions well enough. You see she told me about having to take it out of neutral and putting it in drive, but it didn't really occur to me that it would be in neutral to begin with (um) and of course my ignorance caused me to labor away unnecessarily. I then proceeded to vacuum the front hall, and couldn't believe how light the vacuum felt! As Peter Pan would say, "Ah, the cleverness of me!"

claim to fame?

 I was in the video rental store today looking at the new release shelf when something caught my eye. It was a DVD, unlike any other DVD, for in bold red letters the title read "KAYLA." Oh my goodness! Has my outstanding reputation finally reached its well deserved fame? Am I finally to reach the zenith of my life, as my marvelous name goes down in history books and is broadcasted all over the world? Will I now be known and loved by all who behold me?(none of this smile fading thing as I walk into ConVal)

 

Curious, I picked up the DVD so I could scan the plot and see if they portrayed me in the right light. Then I burst out laughing. For lo and behold, I was holding a dog movie! What's more, it seemed to be about a boy building this relationship with his sled dog named Kayla! What's the matter with these people? Is my valued name now to be dragged through the mud by being bequeathed to a canine creature? Now I know how Beethoven would feel if he were alive today to watch movies about a slobbering St. Bernard possessing his name. And just imagine the hurt feelings every Scottish lass must have been having as laudatory reports of Lassie were rampant around the world. Not to mention how crushed some people may have felt when movies came out about Toto, Wishbone, Snoopy, Benji, Chips, and all those other noble heroes in the doggie world. But then again, I think I would have felt crushed already if my name were Toto or Wishbone, so I doubt their situation could have been much worse.

 

Granted, I s'pose they couldn't have picked a much better title for a movie. . . . even if it is about a dumb dog.

 

 I guess fame isn't really up my alley anyway.

Doubles volleyball rocks! (if Shawn is on your team:)

Volleyball was interesting last night. For one thing, hardly anyone came.
Perhaps everyone was just tired out from skating, or maybe they felt
loaded with assignments or just wanted to stay in their room and read.
Who knows?

Well, it started out with Shawn, Bria, Kate, and me against Diane, Clyde,
and Josh. After a couple games, it was Shawn, Kate, and me against Diane,
Bria, and Josh. And then finally we were down to just Shawn and me
against Diane and Bria. Now I don't think I had ever played doubles
before, and if you haven't, then you should, at least if you have someone
like Shawn on your team. And I think it worked pretty well to have two
quite good players like Diane and Bria against a really good player like
Shawn and and a not so good player like me. Basically Shawn hit it, I set
it, he spiked it, over and over again, with some variations in between
(like I did spike it once). It was sweet! Did you bump it a little too
far back? No problem, Shawn was there. Did you set it a little too far to
the side? Pshaw, it didn't matter, Shawn could cover it. In fact I think
Shawn was better at covering most all of the court than Bria and Diane
were together, even though that duo had some excellent hustles, and they
played quite well. One time the ball came over the net and I went to bump
it, but I was backing up too rapidly and just as I hit it, I slid and
collapsed to the floor. I was quite convinced that I had botched it, but
when I scrambled up, I discovered the ball was magically on the other
side! Somehow, Shawn had done it again.

But in Shawn's defense, he shouldn't be mistaken for being inhuman. After
all, there was a time or two when I made a perfectly good set and he
missed it, which is actually a relief because if everyone was a perfect
volleyball player, then how would God still be able to better us?

Anyway, I've decided that playing doubles can be fun, and it's also fun
(although it's not why) when you win both games as well.:)

Skating on Ice (what else would we skate on in the winter?!)

Guess what? I just went skating for the first time in a year or more! Anyway, Shawn and Gretchen were on duty, and they decided (with an invitation of course) to take the bibleschool over to my cousins' to skate on their pond. So. . . I asked if they had room for me, and with a little juggling (leaving little Jamie behind with Aunt Sharon) they did, and away we went!

 

The time was great, and the ice was fun, although it was a little bumpy for me who used to be spoiled with a skating rink, and they said the ice wasn't in the greatest condition, but that was okay with me. Hey, it was ice, and I got to actually skate on it! It's amazing how skating comes back to you, like riding a bike. But I found that I can't really skate too well and play hockey at the same time, which I guess makes me a hopeless cause in that game. Actually, we never really played hockey, but just passed it off to each other and tried to hit a board that Aaron or Ryan would be guarding. It was enjoyable to see Michael getting into it--and he was probably hitting it better than me.:) Speaking of Michael, one time he came sledding down the hill straight at me! I should have moved a little more quickly as I watched him come closer, but luckily I did have enough sense to move at all, and his sled only managed to briefly dislodge one of my skates from the ice. But thankfully, I didn't even trip, or at least I didn't fall.

 

 After a little while some people took a break and we stood around munching or toasting hot dogs and marshmallows, visiting all the while. Some people went inside, but I stuck around for awhile more until it began to get dark. Vanlora was quite determined to stay until the end though, claiming that she was a "die hard," even when she went flying on top of the ice on her stomach (quite by accident). The spot where she slid cleared some of the dusty snow off, which of course gave Andrew B. the idea to go flying across the ice on his stomach (which was not quite by accident). Except he would do it for twenty feet or so, little caring that this whole flying on your stomach thing was the same way that he managed to split open his chin on the gym floor (I think that was by accident). Anyway, eventually I went inside to thaw a little bit, and we sat around chatting and sipping hot chocolate, which I quite gorged myself on. Then it was about six o'clock, and time to pack up and head home in time for study hour.

 

On the return trip, however, we held a sort of singing party. It started (and ended) with choruses, but had a lot of other things in between. So we sang King of Kings, Behold What Manner, Happy Am I, As the Deer, Winnie the Pooh, Row Row Row Your Boat (at Michael's request), Knick Knack Paddy Wack (also at Michael's request), Chitty Bang Bang, Rejoice in the Lord, Praise Ye the Lord, Jesus Loves Me, I'Nama Tov (I have no idea how to spell Hebrew!), By the Waters of Babylon, and How Great Thou Art, which were but a few of the many songs that we sang sporadically the entire trip home. Also there were attempts at songs from the Lion King, and I even tried to teach them a song I learned in Australia ("Cast Your Burdens," sung with an Australian accent), but everyone laughed and got confused when I came to the "higher higher" (or "higha higha") part, and Andrew was half convinced that I was pulling another joke on them like when I told him that Australians set their table places upside down. Anyway, we arrived home happy and content, and I came right home to thaw my feet and write this brief summary of my afternoon.

 

Now you're in the "know."

Sledding!

Guess what? We actually have sufficient snow for sledding now! Yaaaaayyy! I went to the golf course with Bria and Kate today. It was a lot of fun, with the snow being in great condition. We took great delight in going forwards, backwards, standing, sitting, lying down (with our head in any direction except upside down), standing up, etc. Though the standing up was fairly timid, I assure you, and only on the gentlest of the golf course's intimidating slops, and even then near the bottom. But it was good balancing practice, though we took a tumble now and then.

Ahh, the pleasures of winter. . .

The War of the Fans

I don't know if you read my mom's blog or not, but she mentioned that we went to another basketball game. You really must excuse me mentioning them so much, because it just so happens that besides school, bibleschool sports, violin, and swimming lessons (which maybe I should talk about sometime), they're about the only semi interesting thing that has been happening to me now and then. And what can I say? Once a ConVal basketball fan, always a ConVal basketball fan, especially when your brother is the coach. This time was particularly weird and singular because Cotie M. was playing on the JV team, and although he's my cousin (or second cousin once removed), he was our enemy. But he played well, succeeding in making sixteen points, though probably a quarter of them were made at the free throw line. Anyway, the ConVal JV sadly lost, but not by much.

The Varsity game was something else. Basically it seemed to be the "War of the Fans," seeing which side could be more loud and aggravating. It got to the point where it seemed to go beyond just rooting for your highschool's basketball team. No, this had to do with your precious school's honor, and whether or not you could hold your head high to be part of the highschool in Milford or ConVal. Therefore, it was war. I'm not trying to blame Milford for being present at an away game to support their team. But I must say that ConVal fans were already vicious, and the noisy Milford fans made them even worse. So as our varsity guys lagged behind by fourteen points in the third quarter, the Milford fans started yelling for us to check the score board and soon started the cheer: "Just like foot ball *clap* *clap* *clapclapclap*." (Presumably Milford must have a fairly good football team that has probably beaten ConVal). Not to be outdone, the ConVal fans pulled out their proudest flag and started retorting, "ConVal baseball *clap* *clap* *clapclapclap*." You see what I mean? This was definitely going beyond basketball. As one lady next to me put it, "You would never see this at a soccer game."

However, the Milford fans weren't taunting when ConVal was ahead by one point (44-43) at the end of the third quarter. And they certainly weren't bragging when they tied and went into overtime. Or even double overtime (71-71). But I must say, it was a very unsabbatic game and although it was exciting, a four point loss didn't really help. But maybe the double overtime was a comforting factor through it all. ConVal's 2-8 (the second number unsure) record may not sound positive, but it doesn't say that every loss could have just as easily been a win, just like this game. It's tiring to watch people lose, when you know they can win.