Last Sunday for sundayschool we talked about using our talents for God. Although this is a very important concept, that isn't what I'm going to talk about. Actually, we were then discussing what we think our talent is, whether it be Peter R.'s ability to grind pig food or Kaitlin M.'s ability to organize. Near the end, I was joking about how my talent is survival in this world.
"You know some people really need that," I laughed. "Some people like--like Andrew B. are just going through life hanging by a thread!"
Oddly enough, that very person managed to smash his finger two days later.
What's also odd is that maybe my talent is survival after all. Now don't mistake me. I am not particularly what you would call a dare devil by any means, but somehow I seem to attract the strangest injuries, be it accidentally punching a wall (I actually still have a mark from doing that last April) or banging my forehead on the gym floor.
Sunday afternoon, I was in the gym. I was actually practicing my volleyball serves against the wall, since they've gotten even more despicable than usual lately. One of these times, as I gave the ball a good punch and watched it sail up, what should happen but that my fist should keep going and land on my lower lip? My lower teeth then felt quite sore, and my lip was stunned. What had I just done? Curious and amazed, I dashed outside to better lighting to see if the liquid on my finger was blood. Rats, just saliva. But you must admit that not very many people punch themselves in the mouth when they serve a volleyball. And though it could have just been my imagination, the next day it did look like I had a red cut on my gum.
That was accident number one.
Last night we were playing sports. We were actually playing indoor frisbee, and there weren't a lot of people there which meant that you got more participation. That was actually a rather confusing game because I was switched from team to team twice as we adjusted to accommodate more people or to equal height advantages or disadvantages (no, we should not have Shawn and Katie G. on the same team!). But no matter, it was still a fun game. Nonetheless I was once running up by Katie to get open and receive the frisbee (or maybe I was running by to guard her?), when all of a sudden I felt myself tripping over her foot. "Sssqueeeaal!" The sound of my knees sliding across the gym floor sounded out in the echoey building so that everyone heard it. I scrambled up, everyone asking me if I was all right. I appreciated their concern, but I was almost blithe as I told them that I was fine, even though my knees did feel rather jarred. Today I have three bruises, a cut on my elbow, and a little floor burn to show for that tumble. Not that the tumble itself was that unusual, but how often do you get to hear someone's knees screeching across the gym floor? Thus concludes my unique accidents.
Maybe survival is a talent after all. . . .
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
Another harvest party goes down in the annals
And then lades and gents, the time that we had all been waiting for had arrived. It started with subtlety, as secretive inquiries were made to see if so-and-so could borrow such-and-such. Yes, they would be welcome to borrow that--no questions were needed. Then it gained boldness; for example, as I went down to the bibleschool girls' dorm to borrow my own little something, they refused to let me into the bedroom where they were congregated. But I didn't feel offended. Secrets are almost as holy as hiding Christmas presents when it comes to the Harvest Party. And that is what was arriving.
I had schemed and persuaded Mom, Craig, and Clyde to join with me in a group masquerade, so as 6:30 Saturday evening rolled around, we were scrambling about, coloring, cutting, taping, trying out our costumes and laughing at eachother. Mom had to rush down from Fairview, but soon we were ready to go, although the half past six mark had already gone by. So arriving at the Maine House, we grinned with anticipation and filed down the library hall to make our grand entrance. It was even more dramatic than we had first expected. Mr. Incredible (that is, Clyde), loomed monstrously in the doorway and flexed his huge knee pad muscles as everyone in the room inside burst out laughing. Then Elasta Girl (i.e. Mom) followed, with Violet (ahem, me) and Dash (Craig) bringing up the rear. We were none other than the incredible family of Incredibles, and our incredibleness was a smashing hit.
As we entered the room, I noticed that it was full of strange people. Of course if you looked at that scary all-in-black FBI agent twice, you would realize that it was only Rachel A., and if you peered through the branches of a leafy tree, you would be relieved to find out that no one had totally morphed into it, but it was only Jayne R. But that wasn't the worst of it. Occupying four seats were two extraordinarly fat people. Poor chaps, I wonder who invited them? WHAT?! Those fat people must be so fat that they had to grown an extra head apiece! Sure enough, sitting complacently in a rather large dress were Katherine and Bria, and out of the obese gentleman beside them popped Megan and Vanlora's heads, with two little feet peeping out of each pant leg.
Soon we were introduced to all the other unique people. Our fearless leader Diane came as she visualizes herself in several years: with purply gray hair, mismatched socks, crooked teeth, and the like. Then there was a whole family of Crayola crayons (Brandon and Mary's creative way of involving all four of their children together in costume), an elegant Lady of Shelot in a well blanketed boat (that would be Andrea of course, always the literary one:), a grinning yet not at all fierce pirate Amy P., and a dude-like Shannon R. Sitting beside her was a beautiful Queen of Sheba personified by Katie G., while Rachel C. was dressed as the fair Rebecca from Ivanhoe, and Kate S. took the role of dazzling Cinderella. Andy, posing as a chainsaw, was sitting dangerously close to the treeish Jayne, but Phillip was an experienced forester to be a mediator for the two, with a little help from Andy's friend who wore the hideous mask of a wacky woodsman. Also, two Ninja (I must say that I don't know how to spell that!), garbed all in black with masked faces, were ominous to behold, but when we saw that it was just Derrick and Isaac D., our fear dissipated (a little). Wesley was original to come as himself (probably the funniest costume of all), except his blond hair was replaced with black curly locks. Then there was Ari W., all very sharp in her WAC uniform, Kaitlin M. looking very Western, and Emily M. appearing quite Rennaissance. Mr. Hansen, with big yellow boots and a football mask claimed that he was the Hunchboot of Notre Dame (or something to that effect), which brought a few chuckles, as his randomly dry humor often does. Andrew B., also masked, wearing black, and armed with a sword, was discovered to be the Dread Pirate Robinson (or is it Robins?), and, as eerie music played, a box in the corner suddenly began to shake and convolute until a brown faced Dave came bursting out with a threatening yell, before he explained that he really was nobody but he just wanted to do that.
Besides the Crayon family, the little kids were also present in their own costumes. A dashing Robin Hood was found in six year old Michael, and his little brother Gabriel was charming in his tin foil helmet as Leif the Lucky (they've been learning fun stories now that they've started homeschooling). Not to be outdone, Timothy appeared as Winnie the Pooh, Peter as Tiger, and even little David came as a 1 Dalmation even though he's barely six months old (it's amazing how these kids come up with these things at that young age:).
After introductions were made, Diane ushered us through a variety of crazily fun games that she is renowned for. And since I realize that this can be the least interesting part of the party (for those absent to hear about anyway) in comparison to hearing what people came dressed as, I will not dwell it. However, not mentioning the delightful creativity of the games we spent so long enjoying would be a shame, so you'll get to hear about it anyway (some of the games a few may even recognize from past youth weekends).
First there was the jelly bean version of Pit, in which you milled about with ten sticky jelly beans in your hand, shouting out numbers and exchanging colors with people who had even more hot sticky jelly beans to offer. Needless to say, no one felt like eating the candies when we were over (except little Jeff A. of course). Then we played hot potato with baby food jars, in which if you got stuck with the jar you had to open it up and take a bite. Grrross! Next we tried a game appropriately called Spew, in which we had to put an alkaseltzer tablet underneath our tongue and see how long we could hold it with a mouthful of Sprite before we had to spit it out. In most cases, it would start to go down people's throats or up their noses before they got rid of it (luckily we did this on the front porch facing OUT), which was what happened to me pretty quickly since I had heard that Mr. Hansen had mentioned that we would have to make a quick trip to the hospital if we swallowed it. Dave, Shane W. (sp?), Melissa, and Rachel C. were the valiant winners of this contest.
From there we split up into teams and proceeded through a variety of team related games: q-tip wars, trivia, using straws and tape to cushion an egg from a fall, building a bridge with newspapers so that a toy car could pass through it with a huge stack of hymnals on top, and the candy gathering game. If you haven't played this one, it's when each team possesses an animal sound effect and one person from each team dashes around picking up candy as his or her team members point to it and bark, moo, or meow. My team didn't manage to win anything (except one in a series of q-tip wars), but that's okay, because Craig and Bria's team didn't win anything either, and all in all I think everybody had a wonderful time. Who wouldn't, when Diane is in charge?
Finally came the next thing that Diane is famous for: the food. Need I tell you of all the delicacies that she prepared so expertly? It would only make your mouth water if I told you about the peanut butter balls, cookies, tarts, mini cheese cakes, shishkabobs, tiny pigs in a blanket, and pizza rolls that she prepared, so why bother? I couldn't do her food justice even if I tried. Just remember Diane's cooking, and let your imagination take off from there.
And with that last thought in mind, picture one of the best and most fun parties you've ever been to. That's Diane. That's the Harvest Party.
Tests and dances
I tried to post this several days ago, but my blog wasn't publishing anything correctly, so here is a little glimpse of my life now:
After much trepidation and sporadic studying, I decided to bite the bullet and go into Conval to take the PSAT. Now this is not the time where you start declaring, "Eazhy shmeazy Joe Shmoe!" Instead, this is the time where you say, "Poor Kayla old girl. But way to overcome trepidation and take your good old daddy's advice and plug it through to the end!" But now that I've said this for you, you don't need to feel obliged to say it again.:)
After much trepidation and sporadic studying, I decided to bite the bullet and go into Conval to take the PSAT. Now this is not the time where you start declaring, "Eazhy shmeazy Joe Shmoe!" Instead, this is the time where you say, "Poor Kayla old girl. But way to overcome trepidation and take your good old daddy's advice and plug it through to the end!" But now that I've said this for you, you don't need to feel obliged to say it again.:)
Anyway, as I mentioned previously, I actually did go in and take the PSAT. It was a new experience, rising half an hour earlier than usual and arriving at the school just like any other kid my age would. But of course I am not just any other kid, as most of them would see once they took a quick glance at my weird self. It was neat however to recognize a familiar face now and then out of the sea of strangeness. A friendly greeting and query from a girl my age who plays the viola, and later, as we sat in the cafeteria waiting to take the test, another girl from string group saw me. "Oh Kayla!" she said in surprise. "Are you here to take the PSAT?"
What else would I be there for?
"Um, no, I came all the way in here just to sit in your cafeteria and eat my breakfast, thank you."
(I didn't say this.)
Oh yeah, and there's good old Laura among her friends. And then, "Connor!" I heard someone call across the room, and immediately alert I turned and sure enough, there was 6'4" Connor from Clyde's basketball team striding in. Then I spotted our double bass player, who has the eccentric style of wearing large glasses and a British style hat with bushy hair falling to his shoulders. Why is it that most of the people I knew were the strangest?(no offense to Laura)
The test went all right. I say it went all right, meaning that I didn't breeze through it like some genius, but it could have certainly been worse. I shared a table with four other guys. Not that I sat with them, but they sat with me, because I was the only one at an empty table. They were sort of typical highschool guys, kind of cool, but not very much so. They had some sort of thing about admiring one another's calculators and complimenting each other on them, which seemed a little odd to me, but I guess it isn't really. I kind of got the impression that a couple of them maybe took full advantage of using the guess-and-go multiple choice method, and as a result they were exclaiming at the difficulty of the grid-in portion of the math test. Perhaps they came to that section and were suddenly stumped when they had to come up with there own answers. But I'm probably not giving them enough credit. . . .
When the test was done, they told us to stay until we were dismissed. So a man came by, collected our tests, and walked off. I waited. In the meantime the kids were all standing up and crossing the room to chat, which I naturally figured was what they were doing until they were dismissed. Um, okay, when are they going to let us go? I wondered. With a nagging suspicion I rose, and left the room free and clear, realizing that I could have left a long time ago. I made my way through the swarming halls and left with my dad, extremely happy that all was over.
****************************************************************************
Last weekend, for the ignorant's improvement of knowledge, was the bibleschool's free weekend. Also, my parents were going away, so Clyde and I took advantage of these two factors by taking the ride to New York to visit the Holschers. It was, like it so often is, a scrumptious time. Of course it would start to snow as we wound through the country roads closer to their home in the boonies, but luckily it never really accumulated, and it didn't keep up forever. So we arrived there, warmly welcomed, and that night I got to squeeze onto the floor of Klara's cosy room, which was much better than sleeping in the yellow room, where it's messy, or the guest room, where it's noisy.
On Saturday, Ruth and I accompanied Klara up into the woods to dispose of a chicken. Klara made quite a fearsome picture, all bundled up in sweaters and armed with a shovel from which a limp neck hung. After she erected the bird's monument, we trekked up into the woods where they showed me the towers of rock that they had found up there. Each one belonged to one of them, and they were given remarkable names such as Klara's Tower of Wood, or Rebecca's Tower of Fire, or Caleb's Tower of Stone, or Ruth's Tower of Water. We actually discovered another one, and we temporarily named it my Tower of Thunder, which is quite striking is it not?(my puns are so droll, aren't they?;) So we wandered about, marching along stone walls as we prepared to face the dauntingly invisible foe, or trudged along as I threatened them whips, or experimented seesawing on a thick stick in the crook of a tree (of course you would automatically know that it would break, but that didn't immediately occur to us), or clambered onto towers, or laid out a tableau of Romeo and Juliet on a moss covered rock. When you have an imagination, the sky is the limit.
The rest of the weekend involved twirling in the dusty hayloft as Klara and I made up dances, reading out loud to the kids, doing chores in the barn (which were rather fun actually), and decorating or playing games for Caleb's seventh birthday on Sunday. First the five of us (the four younger Holschers and myself) gathered in the hayloft to play musical tires. This was rather intriguing because it was easy to fall into the middle of the tire and if you sat down too quickly your legs could go flying. And then whenever Caleb or nine-year-old Ruth did the music, they would be making up these spontaneous songs, before breaking out into a mixture of sound effects and laughter. At this point I could never tell if they were done singing or not, so I kept sitting down way too early, which didn't make me look very intelligent. Then Klara and I adopted the fun task of teaching her younger siblings how to dance the Virginia Reel. We learned this during girls' week this past summer, and we were so infected with the joy of doing it that we're always wanting more people to learn how so they can do it with us. Somehow I ended up with the job of teaching Caleb, and he needed plenty of repetition in order to get the hang of it ("Oh, oh, let's start over again!"), but soon he got it, even though both his sisters were able to learn it from Klara in the space of time it took for him to learn it from me. What was rather shocking though was that as I came to a certain part of the dance sequence (and by the way, Caleb is the only boy I've ever danced this with), Klara told him that now he is supposed to put his hand on my waist, to which he giggled and responded, "Oh Kayla, I'll love you forever!!!" Klara and I exchanged looks that expressed amusement and "Oh dear," at the same time.
Next we filed inside and played hot potato with everyone, including Mr. H., Clyde, Katherine, Megan, Ben, Klara, Rebecca, Ruth, Caleb, and me. Fortunately we had real music playing this time. . . . . then it was time for a movie, dinner (Caleb asked for a surprisingly healthy dinner--rice and veggie casserole, corn on the cob, homemade bread, and brussel sprouts!:), and then we were off.
And that, my dear friends, was my weekend.
Saturday, October 14, 2006
On trial
Wow, I was experimenting, and I finally figured out how to put this picture on my heading! It leaves much to be desired, perhaps some cropping or change in size, or a different picture, or skipping it all together. However, it's late now and I'm going to bed, so I'll leave it up on trial.
Thursday, August 31, 2006
We went up to Sky High with Amanda and her dad. This was a mountain that had a great overlook of Melbourne and it's suburbs. So here we are:
"Strolling by a green bench chair, Mr. S. told us that it was made from recycled plastic, and as we walked over a spongy walkway, he informed us that it was made from old tires. . . " What next?
Kendra, Amanda and Me at Sky High (this is actually from Amanda's camera--Amanda, you're famous!:)
Mr. S. showed us a "little" chair "just my size"
I have to warn you now that I did enjoy taking pictures of trees and plants!
"Strolling by a green bench chair, Mr. S. told us that it was made from recycled plastic, and as we walked over a spongy walkway, he informed us that it was made from old tires. . . " What next?
Kendra, Amanda and Me at Sky High (this is actually from Amanda's camera--Amanda, you're famous!:)
Mr. S. showed us a "little" chair "just my size"
I have to warn you now that I did enjoy taking pictures of trees and plants!Ham: The Crushing Word
Once upon a time, I had an embarrassing moment. Is there anyone who hasn't had one of these? But I am about to disclose this embarrassing moment to the entire blogging world, and as most embarrassing moments are never nearly as embarrassing years later or considered very embarrassing by the rest of the world, I'm afraid you will not understand my trauma. Nonetheless, I will share it anyway.
When I was about eight years old, I entered a spelling bee. This bee was unlike any other bee, however, because it didn't buzz--meaning that it wasn't a real spelling bee, since it wasn't big and official, and the honor of winning wasn't huge and tremendous. However, it was at the Family Convention, in the dining hall with what seemed like a multitude of people, when I went up front with my age group and competed in this bee. A turn or two passed, and I managed to survive all right. I wasn't a terrible speller, so that would explain my beginning survival. Then came the momentous moment. I think Meredith was before me, and after she had spelled her word correctly Mrs. Kathy D. gave me the next difficult word to spell: "ham." Standing up, I was suddenly overwhelmed. Here I was, in front of a large room full of people, asked to spell a word I had never heard of before. Of course I had heard of ham, and did indeed know how to spell it, but I knew that they would never ask me to spell a word as easy as "h-a-m," so it must be a homonym, and therefore a word that I didn't know. Drenched in my timidity and torn by indecision and awkwardness ("a-w-k-w-a-r-d-n-e-s-s!"), I decided that the humiliation of misspelling a word I didn't know would be greater than just being skipped. "Are you sure?" Mrs. Kathy D. asked, all compassion. "It would mean that you would be out." On the brink of tears, I nodded, and sat down. Daniel A. was next to me, and only half standing in front of his chair, as if being afraid that standing up all the way would draw too much attention to himself, he produced the stupendous answer: "Ham: h-a-m."
I was stunned. I was shocked. I was utterly humiliated. This was probably by far the worst thing that could have happened to me, or so I thought at the time. Probably every single person in the room was privately laughing at me, amazed that I didn't know how to spell a little word like "ham." The whole world would probably have heard of it by the end of the day, and then I would be an outcast, not able to lift my head from my weighty embarrassment. I would probably not be able to live it out, and most likely people would remember it for years to come with jeering humor, and would think me a very poor speller. I knew that almost everyone present was not cruel enough to openly ridicule me, but I would never know if they were secretly enjoying it or not, and I would probably live the rest of my life with the suspicion that everyone was laughing at me.
Naturally my mother, ever wise and comforting, tried to assure me. "They won't remember it, Kayla," she said, then added, "You'll be laughing about this in a couple of years." Eventually I dragged myself into believing the first part of her prediction, but I could not make myself trust the latter one. This was not a laughing matter. It was too big for that.
Probably about three years later I had sufficiently recovered in order to laugh about it, but only in a hesitant sort of way. Now I believe I am finally released from my conjured debasement. Oddly enough though, I found that not everything my mom prophesied was completely true. As a matter of fact, at my first girls' week over a year ago, we were travelling in the van from New Jersey and we were sharing embarrassing moments, so I told them this. When I was finished, to my mixed amusement and distress, Amy B. burst out, "Oh, I remember that!" Oh dear. Hey, excuse me, hello, you are not SUPPOSED to remember it! Now you only know it because I've told you, right? Right. Because if you did remember it, maybe I was right to be embarrassed. . . . .
. . . . but stories are always better when you're laughing at yourself.
Friday, October 13, 2006
Day 1 & 2: Arriving Down Under
Okay, the good news is that I finished scanning a lot of my Australia pictures several days ago. The bad news is that, although I only scanned a considerable fraction of them, there are still 143 of them, and I so far have managed to transfer about 60 of them to this computer. It involves a whole bunch of complicated stuff concerning lack of time and I didn't know that Craig would take his lap top with him to Rhode Island, etc, etc. Anyway, I've decided to start posting a few pictures (only a few mind you!), mostly in order, but since the thumb drive randomly chose the pictures I have, I'm going to have to later go back and fill in some holes chronologically that it left out.
So without further ado, here are the first of the first:
And as a side thing, here's something I wrote in my journal while on the plane:
If I were at home, it would be about quarter to three in the morning. So in case you haven't guessed, I'm a bit tired right now, but I am going to partially try Kendra's theory of avoiding jet lag. Basically she believes that as soon as you're on the plane, you should pretend to be in the same time zone as your destination: Melbourne. This includes staying awake the first six hours of our nightly flight, and sleeping the rest of it. I think her plan is a good one, but personally I think it is also wise to sleep when you can, so we'll see what I do.
. . . As for our plane, it is huge! Well, I suppose there are larger ones somewhere (like in Flightplan), but this is a 747 [I must also add that my outlook on the size of the plane may have been a little rosy-colored in my excitement].
. . . There is a danger in travelling on such a long flight. Chad helpfully reminded Kendra that on flights like these you can get blood clots and die. Talk about comforting.
. . . I've also noticed the friendly service. . . [later] They served us a yummy supper of chicken. . . . However, when Amanda opened her package, there was no chicken! She mentioned it to another steward, and he started asking her really funny questions like, "You're sure you didn't take it and stuff it in your pockets?" I have a feeling I'm going to enjoy Australian humor.
As for the report on the rest of my flight, we progressed to Aukland, New Zealand swimmingly, and fortunately I mean that figuratively, not literally.
(we landed in New Zealand, and after a couple hours of layover. . . . )
As we waited to board at about 6:15 am, NZ time, the sky turned from black to deep blue, and by the time we took off, the sun had risen, and I snapped some of my only glimpses of New Zealand from the plane.
As we climbed above the clouds, I wanted to make the sky look bluer for my picture, so I twisted my polarizer onto my lens. Then I discovered that my polarizer wouldn't make the sky any bluer. Instead, it divided the light into gorgeous almost pastel-like colors! It was a neat discovery, and I took the picture.
Then eventually we landed in Melbourne, had a great day and blah, blah, blah (I didn't write this in my journal, but I figured that I wouldn't bother weighing you down with lots of details). The next day we took the train into Melbourne and arrived a Flinders' Street Station, a big, yellow building with a dome at one end and a cloc
k tower at the other, and teeming with activity. This was a very photogenic building in my opinion, but unfortunately I only had time to take this next photo almost a week later from the car.
We started walking down fairly busy streets (maybe took a tram) through the somewhat elegant city of Melbourne until we arrived shortly at the Victoria State Library, where Kendra and I spent quite awhile trying to find a newspaper article from 1908 when the Coronet visited Melbourne. We found the right section in the microfilm archives of The Herald, and then we took awh
ile trying to figure out the machine to read it and to wind it to the proper date. Finally we found it, headlined something like "The Mysterious Yacht--the Coronet.". . . The article mentioned how the people from the Coronet said that the people from Melbourne were more civil than its rival Sydney, and Amanda, a staunch Melbournian, said that some things never change. The State Library
And now I bid you good night; if I'm ambitious enough I'll post more tomorrow!
So without further ado, here are the first of the first:
And as a side thing, here's something I wrote in my journal while on the plane:
If I were at home, it would be about quarter to three in the morning. So in case you haven't guessed, I'm a bit tired right now, but I am going to partially try Kendra's theory of avoiding jet lag. Basically she believes that as soon as you're on the plane, you should pretend to be in the same time zone as your destination: Melbourne. This includes staying awake the first six hours of our nightly flight, and sleeping the rest of it. I think her plan is a good one, but personally I think it is also wise to sleep when you can, so we'll see what I do.
. . . As for our plane, it is huge! Well, I suppose there are larger ones somewhere (like in Flightplan), but this is a 747 [I must also add that my outlook on the size of the plane may have been a little rosy-colored in my excitement].
. . . There is a danger in travelling on such a long flight. Chad helpfully reminded Kendra that on flights like these you can get blood clots and die. Talk about comforting.
. . . I've also noticed the friendly service. . . [later] They served us a yummy supper of chicken. . . . However, when Amanda opened her package, there was no chicken! She mentioned it to another steward, and he started asking her really funny questions like, "You're sure you didn't take it and stuff it in your pockets?" I have a feeling I'm going to enjoy Australian humor.
As for the report on the rest of my flight, we progressed to Aukland, New Zealand swimmingly, and fortunately I mean that figuratively, not literally.
(we landed in New Zealand, and after a couple hours of layover. . . . )
As we waited to board at about 6:15 am, NZ time, the sky turned from black to deep blue, and by the time we took off, the sun had risen, and I snapped some of my only glimpses of New Zealand from the plane.
As we climbed above the clouds, I wanted to make the sky look bluer for my picture, so I twisted my polarizer onto my lens. Then I discovered that my polarizer wouldn't make the sky any bluer. Instead, it divided the light into gorgeous almost pastel-like colors! It was a neat discovery, and I took the picture.
Then eventually we landed in Melbourne, had a great day and blah, blah, blah (I didn't write this in my journal, but I figured that I wouldn't bother weighing you down with lots of details). The next day we took the train into Melbourne and arrived a Flinders' Street Station, a big, yellow building with a dome at one end and a cloc
k tower at the other, and teeming with activity. This was a very photogenic building in my opinion, but unfortunately I only had time to take this next photo almost a week later from the car.We started walking down fairly busy streets (maybe took a tram) through the somewhat elegant city of Melbourne until we arrived shortly at the Victoria State Library, where Kendra and I spent quite awhile trying to find a newspaper article from 1908 when the Coronet visited Melbourne. We found the right section in the microfilm archives of The Herald, and then we took awh
ile trying to figure out the machine to read it and to wind it to the proper date. Finally we found it, headlined something like "The Mysterious Yacht--the Coronet.". . . The article mentioned how the people from the Coronet said that the people from Melbourne were more civil than its rival Sydney, and Amanda, a staunch Melbournian, said that some things never change. The State Library And now I bid you good night; if I'm ambitious enough I'll post more tomorrow!
Sunday, October 08, 2006
More Random Photos--Graduations
The lovely bibleschool graduates
The not-quite-so-lovely Caleb and his tongue (remind me not to have blue frosting at MY graduation!:)
At Craig's gradutation. . .
The noble graduate marches out, diploma in hand
Craig & me (now he is that much taller than me;)Random Photos
I have begun the massive project of scanning Australia pictures, now that I finally have a bit of time to do it. However, now that I've baited your hopes (or increased your worry), I'm afraid I'm not quite ready to start posting them. However, I hope to pretty soon, so keep checking back!
But since right now I do feel like putting up pictures, here are some ones that I meant to put up sometime but never got around to it:
Sabbath sunset at my aunt and uncle's in Virginia (spring break) 
The girls' "team huddle" on class trip when trying to thwart Dave and Adam in basketball (it's Bria, Kimberly, Katherine, and Elizabeth by the way)
A few noble SWAT team comrades when we went out to Applebees the last week of bibleschool
spring leaves
But since right now I do feel like putting up pictures, here are some ones that I meant to put up sometime but never got around to it:
Sabbath sunset at my aunt and uncle's in Virginia (spring break) 
Kenny and me when she came home in April (by the way we are sitting on a slanted rock and I'm on the slanted side; she is NOT that much taller than me!:)
The girls' "team huddle" on class trip when trying to thwart Dave and Adam in basketball (it's Bria, Kimberly, Katherine, and Elizabeth by the way)
A few noble SWAT team comrades when we went out to Applebees the last week of bibleschool
spring leavesRandom Quotes
"This is a fault common to all singers, that among their friends they are never inclined to sing when asked [but] unasked they never desist." ~Horace :D
"Whenever you point a finger, three fingers are pointing back at you."
"Those who try to do something and fail are much better off than those who try to do nothing and succeed."
"People are like stained glass windows. They glow and sparkle when it is sunny and bright but when the sun goes down, their true beauty is revealed only if there is a light from within."
"Whenever you point a finger, three fingers are pointing back at you."
"Those who try to do something and fail are much better off than those who try to do nothing and succeed."
"People are like stained glass windows. They glow and sparkle when it is sunny and bright but when the sun goes down, their true beauty is revealed only if there is a light from within."
October
In case you didn't realize it, or you're in your own little world, it is now the month of October.
Speaking of being in your own little world, we met someone in Australia who is kind of like that. I'll call her Mary. Anyway, Amanda told us ahead of time what Mary is like. For instance (and you can correct me if I get this wrong, Amanda), you know how you can get an extra hour of sleep when you're coming off daylight savings time? Well, Mary decided that instead of getting an extra hour of sleep on Sunday night like everybody else, she wanted to get it on Monday morning before she went to work, so she basically lived an hour ahead of everybody else for an entire day before re-setting her clock. But that's not all. Another time, when there was a holiday on Monday, she decided that when she went to work Tuesday morning that she would convince herself that it was Monday, Wednesday was Tuesday, Thursday was Wednesday, etc. That way, when she came to "Thursday" afternoon, she would suddenly "remember" that it was Friday and therefore the weekend, and boy what a pleasant surprise that would be!!!
So then we got to meet this incredible girl Mary. She is very friendly, but she had hardly met us when she unwittingly proved Amanda's stories to be correct by making an announcement: "I've decided that since my twenty-sixth birthday is coming up, that I'll tell myself that I'm turning twenty-eight instead, and that way when I turn twenty-six it will sound so much better! In fact, I was talking to my sister the other day and I told her that I was about to turn twenty-eight, and she said, 'No you're not, you're turning twenty-seven!' and I said, 'No I'm turning twenty-six!' hahaha!" Oh me oh my, how that dear girl cracks me up! I think it must take talent to be able to do things like that.
Anyway, as I was saying. . . . in case you didn't realize it, it is now the month of October. You might not have thought that I knew this however, for until today if you had walked into my room you would have observed that my calendar was still on the month of September. Why so? You see I have a Narnia calendar, and last month I had a fine picture of Peter with a cut on the side of his head and looking intense, but this month's picture is no Peter. In fact, it's this black, swarthy-skinned monster with an ugly snarl stretching out his face and crouched on a rocky hill like a frog trying to stand up. To the best of my knowledge, you don't even see this shady character in the movie! To make matters worse, I keep this calendar right above where I lay my head and night, and if anyone thinks that I'm going to let this crazy creature leer over my head until my dreams are scared silly, then you are much mistaken! Sooo. . . . now I have finally solved this problem and brought myself to the current month by putting another picture from a different calendar over it, so instead of this hideous thing, I get a more serene glimpse of a pinky-blue sunset and a Bible verse on God's might. Much more soothing on your dreams, don't you agree?
Somewhere along the way in my predicament with the grotesque being, Craig made the sardonic comment that it probably has something to do with all the people who are born in that month. Hmm. . . that would be giving a bad name to Meredith, Van Lora, TJ, Nika, Cara, Pedro Martinez (Craig might be right in his case), and Amanda (plus I'm sure there are more but those are the ones that come to me right now). Do I let this slander continue? Never fear! I, Kayla, now come to the rescue to save the month of October and all those who were born in it!
Honestly, as I came to the beginning of this month and became more fully aware that summer is over, my disappointment was overcome by the anticipation of the enjoyable things that often occur October. Here is a list of but a few of them:
First though, as I already mentioned, some wonderful people were born in this month, so of course I'm thankful for all of them, including Meredith, Cara, and Amanda, for what would I do without these great friends?
October means. . .
the Dublin Rummage Sale
the Trinity free clothes giveaway
the Salvation Army sale
artist palettes smeared all over the brilliant trees
Apple Sauce Day
the Harvest Party
leaf catching
raking (which actually can be fun)
jumping into the piles you raked (which actually can be even more fun)
Indian Summer--this means the gorgeous warm days that you weren't expecting inbetween the cool ones
fresh cider, and juicy apples that don't taste like they've been artificially preserved
grapes on Fairwood's grape vine--and grape juice!
warm pumpkin candles cosily burning during the longer evenings
marigolds lending special warmth
delightful crisp mornings
shuffling through dead leaves and drinking in their familiar scent
getting to wear bright orange when you take a peaceful walk through the woods
pulling out your camera several times in a week
Mt. Monadnock seeming prettier than ever--if that's possible
pumpkin carving
candy corn
trick-or-treaters
Lots more could be said but why bother? I've made my point: I'm loving October!
p.s. confession time: I'm afraid I didn't take these pictures THIS year, but that's because I haven't gotten my film developed yet, and these are from the digital camera.
Speaking of being in your own little world, we met someone in Australia who is kind of like that. I'll call her Mary. Anyway, Amanda told us ahead of time what Mary is like. For instance (and you can correct me if I get this wrong, Amanda), you know how you can get an extra hour of sleep when you're coming off daylight savings time? Well, Mary decided that instead of getting an extra hour of sleep on Sunday night like everybody else, she wanted to get it on Monday morning before she went to work, so she basically lived an hour ahead of everybody else for an entire day before re-setting her clock. But that's not all. Another time, when there was a holiday on Monday, she decided that when she went to work Tuesday morning that she would convince herself that it was Monday, Wednesday was Tuesday, Thursday was Wednesday, etc. That way, when she came to "Thursday" afternoon, she would suddenly "remember" that it was Friday and therefore the weekend, and boy what a pleasant surprise that would be!!!
So then we got to meet this incredible girl Mary. She is very friendly, but she had hardly met us when she unwittingly proved Amanda's stories to be correct by making an announcement: "I've decided that since my twenty-sixth birthday is coming up, that I'll tell myself that I'm turning twenty-eight instead, and that way when I turn twenty-six it will sound so much better! In fact, I was talking to my sister the other day and I told her that I was about to turn twenty-eight, and she said, 'No you're not, you're turning twenty-seven!' and I said, 'No I'm turning twenty-six!' hahaha!" Oh me oh my, how that dear girl cracks me up! I think it must take talent to be able to do things like that.
Anyway, as I was saying. . . . in case you didn't realize it, it is now the month of October. You might not have thought that I knew this however, for until today if you had walked into my room you would have observed that my calendar was still on the month of September. Why so? You see I have a Narnia calendar, and last month I had a fine picture of Peter with a cut on the side of his head and looking intense, but this month's picture is no Peter. In fact, it's this black, swarthy-skinned monster with an ugly snarl stretching out his face and crouched on a rocky hill like a frog trying to stand up. To the best of my knowledge, you don't even see this shady character in the movie! To make matters worse, I keep this calendar right above where I lay my head and night, and if anyone thinks that I'm going to let this crazy creature leer over my head until my dreams are scared silly, then you are much mistaken! Sooo. . . . now I have finally solved this problem and brought myself to the current month by putting another picture from a different calendar over it, so instead of this hideous thing, I get a more serene glimpse of a pinky-blue sunset and a Bible verse on God's might. Much more soothing on your dreams, don't you agree?
Somewhere along the way in my predicament with the grotesque being, Craig made the sardonic comment that it probably has something to do with all the people who are born in that month. Hmm. . . that would be giving a bad name to Meredith, Van Lora, TJ, Nika, Cara, Pedro Martinez (Craig might be right in his case), and Amanda (plus I'm sure there are more but those are the ones that come to me right now). Do I let this slander continue? Never fear! I, Kayla, now come to the rescue to save the month of October and all those who were born in it!
Honestly, as I came to the beginning of this month and became more fully aware that summer is over, my disappointment was overcome by the anticipation of the enjoyable things that often occur October. Here is a list of but a few of them:
First though, as I already mentioned, some wonderful people were born in this month, so of course I'm thankful for all of them, including Meredith, Cara, and Amanda, for what would I do without these great friends?
October means. . .
the Dublin Rummage Sale
the Trinity free clothes giveaway
the Salvation Army sale
artist palettes smeared all over the brilliant trees
Apple Sauce Day
the Harvest Party
leaf catching
raking (which actually can be fun)
jumping into the piles you raked (which actually can be even more fun)
Indian Summer--this means the gorgeous warm days that you weren't expecting inbetween the cool ones
fresh cider, and juicy apples that don't taste like they've been artificially preserved
grapes on Fairwood's grape vine--and grape juice!
warm pumpkin candles cosily burning during the longer evenings
marigolds lending special warmth
delightful crisp mornings
shuffling through dead leaves and drinking in their familiar scent
getting to wear bright orange when you take a peaceful walk through the woods
pulling out your camera several times in a week
Mt. Monadnock seeming prettier than ever--if that's possible
pumpkin carving
candy corn
trick-or-treaters
Lots more could be said but why bother? I've made my point: I'm loving October!
p.s. confession time: I'm afraid I didn't take these pictures THIS year, but that's because I haven't gotten my film developed yet, and these are from the digital camera.
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
A Prickly Saga
Yesterday a rather singular occurence did something very singular--it occurred! What's more, this singular occurence has never happened that I can recall in all of Fairwood history (but since I can only recall about fifteen years of it, I realize that my memory is somewhat limited). Forgive me if you've already heard about it, but I cannot resist the urge to tell it again. Now are you curious?
It all started with my little childhood phobias of being outside alone in the dark. In case you don't know, our house has a bit of woods surrounding it, and a road/driveway goes by and over the hill and down to the more populated--and therefore more well lighted--areas of Fairwood. Well, naturally I have had to make this trek millions of times, and as can be expected, necessity forces me to take it when darkness pervades our side of the globe. Very often there are places at times where you can't even see the ground you walk upon, let alone your feet, and a big field stretches out on one side of this dark pathway, and you never know what could be watching you, or darting silently toward your unaware person until it's practically on top of you. Hmm, taking this walk is one thing to do it when your twenty-seven, and quite another thing to do when you're just seven. Since I think every kid has been afraid of the dark at some time or other, I of course went through my little qualms. A flashlight sometimes assisted me, but most of the time I would brave the dark unaided, all alone except for the comforting sound of my own voice as I fiercely sang to not only comfort myself but also to hopefully dissuade any intruders from attacking me (and I could never decide if they would flee just because I was making noise, or because I sounded dreadful). What I would like to observe as a sidenote is that Laura, who had the same anxiety as me, decided not to sing but to run, and I've noticed how much she loves to run and how much I love to sing. Peculiar, is it not?
Oddly enough, some people may be surprised to note that I wasn't afraid of being abducted or anything. In fact, the only humans I feared in the dark were Craig and Clyde and only because they were known to try to scare me (luckily I noticed Craig's creeping shadow as I approached the lamp post at the end of our driveway, so I was spared from experiencing the undesirable alarm that my wicked brother had designed for me). The things I feared were less wild in nature: mountain lions (one was spotted at Fairwood last summer), bobcats (we've heard them scream in the woods), bears (our bird feeders have been raided by them), wolves (which I don't even think we have any of), and. . . . stepping on porcupines. Sometimes I was even hesitant to eating a cookie on the way home from the Main House, in case a ferocious cat would smell it and come to attack me so that he could devour it himself and then have me for dessert.
One day however, my dad told me earnestly that pretty much all of the animals here in the woods are scared of me. This pleased me, in a fashion, to know that most likely the animal will race headlong away as soon it heard me coming, and basically I have nothing to fear except fear itself. So I think I can say that from then on I was cured of my phobia of the dark, at least along that road, and it never has really bothered me since. But I must admit that I am still wary of things I may see or need to make my distance from. Of course it still has occurred to me that maybe someday a suddenly bloodthirsty mountain lion will maul me, but it is comforting not only to realize that I'm not going to die unless God wants me to, but also such notions are absurd. So to this day the closest I've come to being mauled is when I reached the end of our driveway one time and then I heard something take a few steps in the woods. I don't need to say that I didn't think twice about running all the way to our porch.
My dad's "talk," however, didn't immediately relieve me of my worry of stepping on a porcupine. As I said earlier, there are times when you can't even see the ground, and stepping on a porcupine is probably the most drastic I thing I could think of as a result. However, it wasn't long before I convinced myself absolutely that the very idea of stepping on a porcupine was ridiculous, and the chances of doing it are about 100 to 1. Voila, now I am worry free! Or am I? All this I probably wouldn't have blogged about if it hadn't been that my chances were about to increase to 5 to 1.
So that brings me to a week ago. My dad and I were driving home at about quarter past ten from the campfire on the ball field, and what do we see waddling in front of us at its own sweet pace? A koala! (hehe bet you weren't expecting that one!). Actually it really was a porcupine, as I'm sure you already guessed, and there he was, all bushy and illumined by overpowering headlights. Finally he figured out that he was a little too slow for us, and he scuttled onto the Hansen's lawn. Now this was very interesting, but not too remarkable since we see a porcupine every once in awhile on the ball field or something. But apparently this wasn't the only time this porcupine decided to blaze a trail on our road, because Ruth told me Sunday morning that she had seen also seen one of these prickly critters one night, and I later found out that my mom had as well. Hmm, maybe my distant phobia of stepping on a porcupine in the dark wasn't so childish anymore. All this, however, would have gone on unnoticed and unwritten if it weren't for a fateful evening.
I was walking home Sunday night, at about ten o'clock, past the Men's Dorm and right up above the church, when Danny drove by me in their mini van. Now he and Ruth live next door to us, just beyond our house, so occasionally Ruth might offer me a ride or something. Well, oddly enough, I didn't feel like riding, so I fervently wished that Danny wouldn't offer me a ride, even though it had been raining. I needn't have worried, because he didn't offer me a ride anyway (and I'll tell you honestly that I don't expect him or Ruth, or anybody else for that matter, to offer, so it wasn't rude or anything). I continued on, in my own brisk yet plodding way, and watched him disappear over the top of the hill. Nothing unusual. As I neared the top of the hill--wait, is that a dark shape in the road? It was a still, large black lump. Of course if it was a porcupine, it would be moving, unless it was afraid of me. Could it have gotten hit by the car? No, Davie's dog Buffy was sitting by the road too calmly for her to have just witnessed a slaughter. I was probably just making things up. I backed up down the hill a little bit, thankful that the lamp was shining at the end of our driveway otherwise it would be like descending into a valley of pitch. Yes, it did almost look like the light was silhouetting a black shape, on the left side of the road. Or maybe I was just seeing things. Nonetheless, I stayed on the other side of the road as I passed, reminding myself of the priest or Levite who ignored the wounded Samaritan. Except this wasn't a Samaritan, it was just a porcupine, if it was a porcupine which I wasn't even sure it was. Therefore I didn't feel any pangs of guilt to leave the shapeless black thing to its blackness. I would find out in the morning.
However, I had almost completely forgotten about it in the morning, until I was walking up the road and saw it. This was going to be interesting. I ran forward. Wow, so I actually wasn't seeing things last night, and it really was a koala! Whoops, I mean a porcupine. I had never had such a good look at one before. It lay in a spiky hump on its side, with quilled fur that almost looked soft, it's curved paws curled up, it's little black eye (it was his profile remember) open, and bright red blood coming out of--his nose? Already the packed dirt at his head was stained with his blood in a pool about a foot long. Now I actually had a first-hand experience dealing with a literal pool of blood! Oh I'm sorry. . . . too many gory details. You see that although I did indeed feel sorry for the poor chap, my utter fascination with the whole situation far outweighed my remorse. Here was real live--I mean dead roadkill, at Fairwood! I don't think we've had anything larger than a snake or just maybe a chipmunk. No, no, I am not celebrating the fact that Fairwood now has had roadkill, but just that it was about the most interesting thing that has happened to me since Australia. And I had almost witnessed it! Uuuhh, I shudder to think what would have happened if I had stepped on him the night before. . . but no matter.
Now do you laugh at me for worrying about stepping on a porcupine?
It all started with my little childhood phobias of being outside alone in the dark. In case you don't know, our house has a bit of woods surrounding it, and a road/driveway goes by and over the hill and down to the more populated--and therefore more well lighted--areas of Fairwood. Well, naturally I have had to make this trek millions of times, and as can be expected, necessity forces me to take it when darkness pervades our side of the globe. Very often there are places at times where you can't even see the ground you walk upon, let alone your feet, and a big field stretches out on one side of this dark pathway, and you never know what could be watching you, or darting silently toward your unaware person until it's practically on top of you. Hmm, taking this walk is one thing to do it when your twenty-seven, and quite another thing to do when you're just seven. Since I think every kid has been afraid of the dark at some time or other, I of course went through my little qualms. A flashlight sometimes assisted me, but most of the time I would brave the dark unaided, all alone except for the comforting sound of my own voice as I fiercely sang to not only comfort myself but also to hopefully dissuade any intruders from attacking me (and I could never decide if they would flee just because I was making noise, or because I sounded dreadful). What I would like to observe as a sidenote is that Laura, who had the same anxiety as me, decided not to sing but to run, and I've noticed how much she loves to run and how much I love to sing. Peculiar, is it not?
Oddly enough, some people may be surprised to note that I wasn't afraid of being abducted or anything. In fact, the only humans I feared in the dark were Craig and Clyde and only because they were known to try to scare me (luckily I noticed Craig's creeping shadow as I approached the lamp post at the end of our driveway, so I was spared from experiencing the undesirable alarm that my wicked brother had designed for me). The things I feared were less wild in nature: mountain lions (one was spotted at Fairwood last summer), bobcats (we've heard them scream in the woods), bears (our bird feeders have been raided by them), wolves (which I don't even think we have any of), and. . . . stepping on porcupines. Sometimes I was even hesitant to eating a cookie on the way home from the Main House, in case a ferocious cat would smell it and come to attack me so that he could devour it himself and then have me for dessert.
One day however, my dad told me earnestly that pretty much all of the animals here in the woods are scared of me. This pleased me, in a fashion, to know that most likely the animal will race headlong away as soon it heard me coming, and basically I have nothing to fear except fear itself. So I think I can say that from then on I was cured of my phobia of the dark, at least along that road, and it never has really bothered me since. But I must admit that I am still wary of things I may see or need to make my distance from. Of course it still has occurred to me that maybe someday a suddenly bloodthirsty mountain lion will maul me, but it is comforting not only to realize that I'm not going to die unless God wants me to, but also such notions are absurd. So to this day the closest I've come to being mauled is when I reached the end of our driveway one time and then I heard something take a few steps in the woods. I don't need to say that I didn't think twice about running all the way to our porch.
My dad's "talk," however, didn't immediately relieve me of my worry of stepping on a porcupine. As I said earlier, there are times when you can't even see the ground, and stepping on a porcupine is probably the most drastic I thing I could think of as a result. However, it wasn't long before I convinced myself absolutely that the very idea of stepping on a porcupine was ridiculous, and the chances of doing it are about 100 to 1. Voila, now I am worry free! Or am I? All this I probably wouldn't have blogged about if it hadn't been that my chances were about to increase to 5 to 1.
So that brings me to a week ago. My dad and I were driving home at about quarter past ten from the campfire on the ball field, and what do we see waddling in front of us at its own sweet pace? A koala! (hehe bet you weren't expecting that one!). Actually it really was a porcupine, as I'm sure you already guessed, and there he was, all bushy and illumined by overpowering headlights. Finally he figured out that he was a little too slow for us, and he scuttled onto the Hansen's lawn. Now this was very interesting, but not too remarkable since we see a porcupine every once in awhile on the ball field or something. But apparently this wasn't the only time this porcupine decided to blaze a trail on our road, because Ruth told me Sunday morning that she had seen also seen one of these prickly critters one night, and I later found out that my mom had as well. Hmm, maybe my distant phobia of stepping on a porcupine in the dark wasn't so childish anymore. All this, however, would have gone on unnoticed and unwritten if it weren't for a fateful evening.
I was walking home Sunday night, at about ten o'clock, past the Men's Dorm and right up above the church, when Danny drove by me in their mini van. Now he and Ruth live next door to us, just beyond our house, so occasionally Ruth might offer me a ride or something. Well, oddly enough, I didn't feel like riding, so I fervently wished that Danny wouldn't offer me a ride, even though it had been raining. I needn't have worried, because he didn't offer me a ride anyway (and I'll tell you honestly that I don't expect him or Ruth, or anybody else for that matter, to offer, so it wasn't rude or anything). I continued on, in my own brisk yet plodding way, and watched him disappear over the top of the hill. Nothing unusual. As I neared the top of the hill--wait, is that a dark shape in the road? It was a still, large black lump. Of course if it was a porcupine, it would be moving, unless it was afraid of me. Could it have gotten hit by the car? No, Davie's dog Buffy was sitting by the road too calmly for her to have just witnessed a slaughter. I was probably just making things up. I backed up down the hill a little bit, thankful that the lamp was shining at the end of our driveway otherwise it would be like descending into a valley of pitch. Yes, it did almost look like the light was silhouetting a black shape, on the left side of the road. Or maybe I was just seeing things. Nonetheless, I stayed on the other side of the road as I passed, reminding myself of the priest or Levite who ignored the wounded Samaritan. Except this wasn't a Samaritan, it was just a porcupine, if it was a porcupine which I wasn't even sure it was. Therefore I didn't feel any pangs of guilt to leave the shapeless black thing to its blackness. I would find out in the morning.
However, I had almost completely forgotten about it in the morning, until I was walking up the road and saw it. This was going to be interesting. I ran forward. Wow, so I actually wasn't seeing things last night, and it really was a koala! Whoops, I mean a porcupine. I had never had such a good look at one before. It lay in a spiky hump on its side, with quilled fur that almost looked soft, it's curved paws curled up, it's little black eye (it was his profile remember) open, and bright red blood coming out of--his nose? Already the packed dirt at his head was stained with his blood in a pool about a foot long. Now I actually had a first-hand experience dealing with a literal pool of blood! Oh I'm sorry. . . . too many gory details. You see that although I did indeed feel sorry for the poor chap, my utter fascination with the whole situation far outweighed my remorse. Here was real live--I mean dead roadkill, at Fairwood! I don't think we've had anything larger than a snake or just maybe a chipmunk. No, no, I am not celebrating the fact that Fairwood now has had roadkill, but just that it was about the most interesting thing that has happened to me since Australia. And I had almost witnessed it! Uuuhh, I shudder to think what would have happened if I had stepped on him the night before. . . but no matter.
Now do you laugh at me for worrying about stepping on a porcupine?
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Fact or Fiction?
I have discovered one of the most common questions ever asked by someone
who should decide to visit Australia. "So, did you ever see a kangaroo?"
No, I'm afraid I did not! I saw several in the zoo and sanctuary, plus
many crossing signs for them, but I never saw one in the wild, in person.
I may have mentioned that I did see an echidna, however, and in case you
don't know what it is, it looks like a hedgehog with a snout. So. . . .
I'm just saying this so you don't need to be bothered by embarrassing
yourself to be like the billionth person (well maybe the third or fourth)
to ask me the ridiculously common question "have you ever seen a
kangaroo?" because I did not!
Now, I would like to share for your own interest or amusement, some
slightly unusual facts about Australia that perhaps you did or did not
know! So here goes:
1. Taxes in Australia are always included in the price. Very convenient I
assure you!
2. The yogurt in Australia is alcoholic--I wondered why it tasted so
good!;)
3. In the country I am speaking of (and I'm already tired of saying "in
Australia" so just assume it) they set their table places upside-down!
Meaning that the knife is pointed blade downward along with the fork,
etc. I think they said it had something to do with Australian's feeling
their uniqueness of being the only country completely Down Under, so they
wanted to have a certain ironic characteristic about them. Don't worry,
this practice is generally only used just occasionally in the home, not
in formal restaurants!
4. Most public schools require their students to wear a uniform--imagine
if we tried to do that! I think some rebellious students would start
protesting about their "rights". . .
5. Victoria (the state where I stayed) is the only state to drive on the
left side of the road because of their dislike of Sydney.
6. If you had a bloody nose, you wouldn't say so exactly, but you would
say, "I have a blood nose." That's because like in England, "bloody" is a
swear word.
7. The correct way to pronounce "aluminum" is not "a-LOO-mi-num," but
"a-loo-MEN-yum."
8. You know how Victoria drives on the left side of the road? Well, when
they have turnarounds, they go clockwise instead of counterclockwise. As
a result of this, Australians decided to change some of their volleyball
rules so that they rotate the other way! They just prove their sense of
uniqueness.
9. Some Australians may eat beetroot or tomato sauce on their hamburger
and have brown "vegemite" on their toast (but NEVER on their biscuits).
10. If you were to order a pizza, and you wanted half to be pepperoni and
the other half to be just cheese, they would put the pepperoni on the
opposite side from that which we here in America would put it on! Talk
about different.
11. Many scented candles that you buy can serve as a flavored cigarette
as well. That doesn't seem to be the greatest encouragement for your
lunges!
12. They never call the restroom a bathroom, washroom, or a toilet--but
"the relief room." It took some getting used to--it was a few days before
I finally asked Amanda what those signs were for.:D
13. About seven years ago a movie was made in two weeks with a very low
budget--it was eighties style and a sattire on redneck Australians; this
movie is still one of the most popular movies in Australia, and I believe
has made more money than they spent. It's called "The Castle."
Righto, I'm sure there are more I could say when they come to me, but
this is the list for now. Hope you enjoyed them; and by the way, you get
to tell me which of these were fact and which of these were fiction! Good
luck.
p.s. Amanda don't give them away just yet! :D
Friday, September 15, 2006
The Longest Day of My Life
This is just a little post to inform you all of Kayla's death. We're not too sure of the particulars but we have heard that her plane crashed in the Pacific Ocean, just two hundred miles southeast of Hawaii. The people evacuated to the life rafts but I guess some vicious Australian termites had lately taken a fancy to rubber so there were holes in the rafts and eventually everyone drowned, because the termites had eaten holes in their life jackets as well. And now I don't really know why I'm telling you this except to be random! But in case you actually cared enough about me (or were just gullible enough) to be worried, I can assure you that I am alive and well.
And that is exactly what this post is about: to inform you all that I have officially returned from faraway lands on the opposite underside of the globe! Our flights went well, though we were nervous about missing our flight in LA and I was nervous about missing my flight in Detroit as time got tight, but the Lord really watched out for us and answered prayers tremendously. So thank you so much if ever just once you thought to send up a prayer for me! It is greatly appreciated (and I appreciate it even if you thought of me once as far as that goes as well).
Hmmm, the strangeness of sleep is a very strange thing (I should be written down in history books as being profound). At one time you want it so badly you're drooping, then next thing you know you can't catch a wink! As for me, coming over I literally experienced the longest day of my life! Time zones are a mystery, they are. Anyway, I figured that it was about thirty-three hours from the time I got up at 5:30 am Tuesday morning (Australia time) to the time I got to bed around 12:30 am late Tuesday night, and in that time I went with about three hours of sleep. Granted, I did get an additional three to four hours of rest, but it still shouldn't be too surprising when my mom had to wake me up at two o'clock the next afternoon! The problem is that the night afterward I got about one hour of sleep. Go figure. Hmm, now do you agree with me that sleep is a fickle thing? Fortunately, I had my first night of normal sleep at home just last night! It was wonderful, and it was amazing that I could actually go to bed at the whopping semi-early time of nine o'clock! Maybe now I'm on the road to a normal life.
And that is exactly what this post is about: to inform you all that I have officially returned from faraway lands on the opposite underside of the globe! Our flights went well, though we were nervous about missing our flight in LA and I was nervous about missing my flight in Detroit as time got tight, but the Lord really watched out for us and answered prayers tremendously. So thank you so much if ever just once you thought to send up a prayer for me! It is greatly appreciated (and I appreciate it even if you thought of me once as far as that goes as well).
Hmmm, the strangeness of sleep is a very strange thing (I should be written down in history books as being profound). At one time you want it so badly you're drooping, then next thing you know you can't catch a wink! As for me, coming over I literally experienced the longest day of my life! Time zones are a mystery, they are. Anyway, I figured that it was about thirty-three hours from the time I got up at 5:30 am Tuesday morning (Australia time) to the time I got to bed around 12:30 am late Tuesday night, and in that time I went with about three hours of sleep. Granted, I did get an additional three to four hours of rest, but it still shouldn't be too surprising when my mom had to wake me up at two o'clock the next afternoon! The problem is that the night afterward I got about one hour of sleep. Go figure. Hmm, now do you agree with me that sleep is a fickle thing? Fortunately, I had my first night of normal sleep at home just last night! It was wonderful, and it was amazing that I could actually go to bed at the whopping semi-early time of nine o'clock! Maybe now I'm on the road to a normal life.
Saturday, September 09, 2006
Concerning savages, mysterious food, corpses, and old maid vagabonds
We took a walk in a rain forest the other day. And it was a real rain forest, because it was rainy! ha ha ha. (that was such a corny pun, in case you couldn't already tell) It was really neat though, with the almost jungle vegetation and fern trees, myrtle, and whatnot. It made me feel like a savage again. . . .
The other night it was also interesting because we ate out with a Vietnamese, an Indian, a Portugese, and a half Egyptian! All of whom have grown up in Australia. Quite the exposure to unusual people I'm getting, eh?
Yesterday we went out to eat for Yum Cha. That was rather unusual--you know when you're eating at a real Chinese restaurant when most of the people eating there are Chinese and you have to ask for a fork and spoon! Basically Chinese waiters would drift by you with a tray of food and then tell you in nearly unintelligible English what it was they were offering. Some of it was guessing, since we didn't know what a lot of it was, and Kendra and I just kept looking at Amanda to see if she would accept it or not. If she did, we would usually get a small plate with three of the mystery items of it and we would each take one (very often we were vaguely aware what was in it however). You know something is gormet when you don't know what it is!
Now the rest of our time in Australia is running short. We leave Tuesday morning! We have a fourteen hour flight to LA, fly four hours to Indy, then I fly to Detroit, then on to Manchester, and get back late Tuesday night, even though it will have been twenty four hours or so since we left! Pray we won't be corpses at the end of it!
Tomorrow should also be busy. We plan to ride the train into the city with Amanda on her way to work, then go to the State Library to copy the article on the Coronet, and if we have time and the weather is okay we hope to go to the Botanic Gardens and the zoo, which is said to be one of the oldest in the world or something. It will be scary with just Kenny and me on our own though, so hopefully we won't become lost, mere old maid vagabonds to wander the streets of Melbourne in desperate confusion for the rest of our lives until insanity relieves us of our misery.
Then comes the grand challenge of packing! heh, heh, heh. Somehow I have to fit everything I brought and everything I bought back into my back without crushing anything or being overweight. Luckily coming over I had about fifteen more pounds to spare before my suitcase reached the fifty pound weight limit. I'm not sure if Kendra will be so fortunate, but we shall see.
So maybe, just perhaps, this will be my last post in Australia! We'll just wait and see.
p.s. I'll bet my title tricked you into reading my post, eh? hehe I guess it worked!
The other night it was also interesting because we ate out with a Vietnamese, an Indian, a Portugese, and a half Egyptian! All of whom have grown up in Australia. Quite the exposure to unusual people I'm getting, eh?
Yesterday we went out to eat for Yum Cha. That was rather unusual--you know when you're eating at a real Chinese restaurant when most of the people eating there are Chinese and you have to ask for a fork and spoon! Basically Chinese waiters would drift by you with a tray of food and then tell you in nearly unintelligible English what it was they were offering. Some of it was guessing, since we didn't know what a lot of it was, and Kendra and I just kept looking at Amanda to see if she would accept it or not. If she did, we would usually get a small plate with three of the mystery items of it and we would each take one (very often we were vaguely aware what was in it however). You know something is gormet when you don't know what it is!
Now the rest of our time in Australia is running short. We leave Tuesday morning! We have a fourteen hour flight to LA, fly four hours to Indy, then I fly to Detroit, then on to Manchester, and get back late Tuesday night, even though it will have been twenty four hours or so since we left! Pray we won't be corpses at the end of it!
Tomorrow should also be busy. We plan to ride the train into the city with Amanda on her way to work, then go to the State Library to copy the article on the Coronet, and if we have time and the weather is okay we hope to go to the Botanic Gardens and the zoo, which is said to be one of the oldest in the world or something. It will be scary with just Kenny and me on our own though, so hopefully we won't become lost, mere old maid vagabonds to wander the streets of Melbourne in desperate confusion for the rest of our lives until insanity relieves us of our misery.
Then comes the grand challenge of packing! heh, heh, heh. Somehow I have to fit everything I brought and everything I bought back into my back without crushing anything or being overweight. Luckily coming over I had about fifteen more pounds to spare before my suitcase reached the fifty pound weight limit. I'm not sure if Kendra will be so fortunate, but we shall see.
So maybe, just perhaps, this will be my last post in Australia! We'll just wait and see.
p.s. I'll bet my title tricked you into reading my post, eh? hehe I guess it worked!
The God next door
Do you realize that as soon as we were conceived, we were given a certificate of death? It's similar to a birth certificate, only the date is left blank, and we're left to wonder when that day will be. . . .
Do you realize that when God became flesh, He lived right among us and nobody recognized Him?
Imagine having God living next door.
"Honey, there's a new neighbor moved in beside us, can we give him a cake or something?"
"Sure no problem sweety."
Knock knock.
"Hi my name is Bernie. We live next door and we'd like to welcome you to the neighborhood. What's your name?"
"God."
"Oh that's nice; here's a cake."
Jesus was invincible, but He chose to die for us. The grave couldn't even hold Him! And now my certificate of death has been canceled, ripped, burned, destroyed so that it's zilch, nothing, nada!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Now you got a church sermon before most of you people at home have even gone to church today! Ah, the advantages of being ahead of you guys (excepting Jane of course) is strange but blissful.
Do you realize that when God became flesh, He lived right among us and nobody recognized Him?
Imagine having God living next door.
"Honey, there's a new neighbor moved in beside us, can we give him a cake or something?"
"Sure no problem sweety."
Knock knock.
"Hi my name is Bernie. We live next door and we'd like to welcome you to the neighborhood. What's your name?"
"God."
"Oh that's nice; here's a cake."
Jesus was invincible, but He chose to die for us. The grave couldn't even hold Him! And now my certificate of death has been canceled, ripped, burned, destroyed so that it's zilch, nothing, nada!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Now you got a church sermon before most of you people at home have even gone to church today! Ah, the advantages of being ahead of you guys (excepting Jane of course) is strange but blissful.
Friday, September 08, 2006
my wee report
K, here I am again!
Yesterday we got back from our two day trip on the Great Ocean Road. It was gorgeous! It reminded me of Cape Breton a little bit, with some cliffs, arches, and beautiful blue green water. We had a bunch of rain with the sunshine, but we saw nearly ten rainbows. Wowsers, God's creation is truly amazing!
On the way home we saw an echidna! It looks a little like a hedgehog but it has a long pointy snout. I wouldn't have known what it was when we passed it except that we went to the Healsville Sanctuary last Monday which had most of the Australian animals. We even got to see platypus! I had a lot of fun taking up close pictures of the animals (telephoto zoom works wonders), until Amanda's cousin George started joking about leaving me there overnight since I seemed to like it there so much.hehe
On Tuesday we went to the Vic Market, which was really neat. It reminded me of the Suq, King David Street, a flea market, a delhi, and a food court all in one! Inside was mostly food with their keepers set up in stalls, hurriedly supplying the demands of the waiting crowd, or just standing there bored with a couple yells or polite offerings of free samples. The place was fairly crowded, and as we dodged our way through the sporadic mass, a variety of smells hit me. Some of it was fish, but mostly it was odors I couldn't name, only guess at.
Large fish lay behind glass covers, or bright red meat tempted the bloodthirsty as their keepers frantically handed them out, for a price of course. Soon we started passing bread stalls, a cheese shop, or colorful candy places, all spread out confusedly one after another.
We soon left the indoors and went out under a huge covered pavilion, under which brightly colored fruit was arrayed, plus vegetables and such. Then we went under another covered area, larger than the last, with numerous very long aisles lined with a conglomeration of goods. T-shirts, Pooh blankets, boomerangs, wallets, jewelry, scarves, hats, postcards, calendars, stuffed animals, ties, shoes, and many other trinkets to amuse tourists, plus more practical stuff like baby clothes or sports team jerseys. I even saw a Red Sox jersey!!! I guess it just proves that Red Sox Nation rules even in Australia (true, I did see other teams, but Red Sox was most prominent and I didn't see any Yankees, which is very remarkable). Here we wandered and searched and browsed, making up our minds as we made our purchases for ourselves or others. We spent probably three hours there, but I didn't think it was near enough time!
That afternoon we went to a suburb called Brighton where they have a whole bunch of brightly painted boathouses lined up on the beach. The lighting was great, and they were so pretty! I think photographers Craig and Clyde would have drooled in contentment--I know I sure did!;) I snapped away, but only took like fifteen, when maybe I should have taken a roll (well, maybe; Craig probably would have:). We were only there just under half an hour though because Amanda had to get home and go to her Arabic lesson.
Today has kind of been a catch up day. We went to the supermarket and took a quick trip to the mall, but mostly I've been hanging around writing post cards or writing in my journal--I still have to catch up! Tonight we're going out to have Spanish donuts with a friend of Amanda's and two of her "Uni" friends. Speaking of donuts, we've discovered that people over here think it's nearly ridiculous to have donuts for breakfast! I think they think we're close to crazy or something, maybe. Amanda could hardly believe it when Kendra and I told her, and she went so far as to ask the lady at the gas station if she would ever eat donuts for breakfast. The lady replied no quite emphatically, and, since she was the friendly sort, she started to say that you would only eat donuts for breakfast if you were a "big fat guy" with nothing else to eat ("um, are you implying something?"). Okay, fellow Americans; prove I'm not crazy (maybe we all are): would YOU eat donuts for breakfast???
I'll leave you to ponder that question.
Yesterday we got back from our two day trip on the Great Ocean Road. It was gorgeous! It reminded me of Cape Breton a little bit, with some cliffs, arches, and beautiful blue green water. We had a bunch of rain with the sunshine, but we saw nearly ten rainbows. Wowsers, God's creation is truly amazing!
On the way home we saw an echidna! It looks a little like a hedgehog but it has a long pointy snout. I wouldn't have known what it was when we passed it except that we went to the Healsville Sanctuary last Monday which had most of the Australian animals. We even got to see platypus! I had a lot of fun taking up close pictures of the animals (telephoto zoom works wonders), until Amanda's cousin George started joking about leaving me there overnight since I seemed to like it there so much.hehe
On Tuesday we went to the Vic Market, which was really neat. It reminded me of the Suq, King David Street, a flea market, a delhi, and a food court all in one! Inside was mostly food with their keepers set up in stalls, hurriedly supplying the demands of the waiting crowd, or just standing there bored with a couple yells or polite offerings of free samples. The place was fairly crowded, and as we dodged our way through the sporadic mass, a variety of smells hit me. Some of it was fish, but mostly it was odors I couldn't name, only guess at.
Large fish lay behind glass covers, or bright red meat tempted the bloodthirsty as their keepers frantically handed them out, for a price of course. Soon we started passing bread stalls, a cheese shop, or colorful candy places, all spread out confusedly one after another.
We soon left the indoors and went out under a huge covered pavilion, under which brightly colored fruit was arrayed, plus vegetables and such. Then we went under another covered area, larger than the last, with numerous very long aisles lined with a conglomeration of goods. T-shirts, Pooh blankets, boomerangs, wallets, jewelry, scarves, hats, postcards, calendars, stuffed animals, ties, shoes, and many other trinkets to amuse tourists, plus more practical stuff like baby clothes or sports team jerseys. I even saw a Red Sox jersey!!! I guess it just proves that Red Sox Nation rules even in Australia (true, I did see other teams, but Red Sox was most prominent and I didn't see any Yankees, which is very remarkable). Here we wandered and searched and browsed, making up our minds as we made our purchases for ourselves or others. We spent probably three hours there, but I didn't think it was near enough time!
That afternoon we went to a suburb called Brighton where they have a whole bunch of brightly painted boathouses lined up on the beach. The lighting was great, and they were so pretty! I think photographers Craig and Clyde would have drooled in contentment--I know I sure did!;) I snapped away, but only took like fifteen, when maybe I should have taken a roll (well, maybe; Craig probably would have:). We were only there just under half an hour though because Amanda had to get home and go to her Arabic lesson.
Today has kind of been a catch up day. We went to the supermarket and took a quick trip to the mall, but mostly I've been hanging around writing post cards or writing in my journal--I still have to catch up! Tonight we're going out to have Spanish donuts with a friend of Amanda's and two of her "Uni" friends. Speaking of donuts, we've discovered that people over here think it's nearly ridiculous to have donuts for breakfast! I think they think we're close to crazy or something, maybe. Amanda could hardly believe it when Kendra and I told her, and she went so far as to ask the lady at the gas station if she would ever eat donuts for breakfast. The lady replied no quite emphatically, and, since she was the friendly sort, she started to say that you would only eat donuts for breakfast if you were a "big fat guy" with nothing else to eat ("um, are you implying something?"). Okay, fellow Americans; prove I'm not crazy (maybe we all are): would YOU eat donuts for breakfast???
I'll leave you to ponder that question.
Saturday, September 02, 2006
brief updates
I have added some new words to my vocabulary: "sunnies," "chewy," and "workmate." Can you figure out what they are?
I met a whole bunch of Aussies at an Italian restaurant for a birthday party. Pretty interesting. . . . they were rather interested in what I thought was the biggest difference between our countries. One of them somehow got it into his head that we were from Arkansas! "Doesn't Bill Clinton live in Arkansas?" he asked. Ah, maybe that's why I've never been there. . .
I've had my first real fish and chips meals, and I got to eat shark. . .
Went to a cheap souvenir shop yesterday. . .
Saw a couple great lookouts and visited the water. . .
Saw my first kangaroo crossing sign today. . . .
And now you've heard my very brief update from Down Undah!
I met a whole bunch of Aussies at an Italian restaurant for a birthday party. Pretty interesting. . . . they were rather interested in what I thought was the biggest difference between our countries. One of them somehow got it into his head that we were from Arkansas! "Doesn't Bill Clinton live in Arkansas?" he asked. Ah, maybe that's why I've never been there. . .
I've had my first real fish and chips meals, and I got to eat shark. . .
Went to a cheap souvenir shop yesterday. . .
Saw a couple great lookouts and visited the water. . .
Saw my first kangaroo crossing sign today. . . .
And now you've heard my very brief update from Down Undah!
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
From Aussie Land
All right, here I am!!! This is going to be fairly quick; perhaps I can give a lengthier report later. So far I am really enjoying Australia and Australians. Kendra and I are forever pointing at flowers, trees, and birds, and saying, "What's that called?" Other than that, driving on the left side of the road (very freaky!), and accents, Australia is mostly like my home in April. Well, maybe.
So far, I've heard Root Beer compared to fly spray, American coffee compared to burnt rubber, and Starbucks compared to dish washer fluid. Hmm. Australians' general opinion of Americans? We're "tall poppies" that need to be cut down to size. Despite this, Australians are certainly not rude; they have a great sense of humor, are quite friendly, and have great accents. I'm working on mine!
Yesterday we took the train to Melbourne took a little look at the city. We even went to the State Library and found an article about the Coronet's visit in their newspaper archives! Uncle Tim is probably very proud of us.:D
Another thing we did was go to China town to get some Chinese with Amanda's (our friend) Vietnamese friend. We silly Americans think we "like Chinese" but little do we know! The stuff that we call Chinese is barely the real deal. It was hard choosing from the lengthy menu. Hmm. . . fried eel?. . . seaweed?. . . pig's stomach? Kendra and I ended up ordering duck with noodles in boiling soy sauce.
All right, perhaps I'll write something more another time! Ta ta for now!
So far, I've heard Root Beer compared to fly spray, American coffee compared to burnt rubber, and Starbucks compared to dish washer fluid. Hmm. Australians' general opinion of Americans? We're "tall poppies" that need to be cut down to size. Despite this, Australians are certainly not rude; they have a great sense of humor, are quite friendly, and have great accents. I'm working on mine!
Yesterday we took the train to Melbourne took a little look at the city. We even went to the State Library and found an article about the Coronet's visit in their newspaper archives! Uncle Tim is probably very proud of us.:D
Another thing we did was go to China town to get some Chinese with Amanda's (our friend) Vietnamese friend. We silly Americans think we "like Chinese" but little do we know! The stuff that we call Chinese is barely the real deal. It was hard choosing from the lengthy menu. Hmm. . . fried eel?. . . seaweed?. . . pig's stomach? Kendra and I ended up ordering duck with noodles in boiling soy sauce.
All right, perhaps I'll write something more another time! Ta ta for now!
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