"People interested in changing the world have to be looking towards the future and are therefore interested in children.”
-Julia Mickenberg

Tales For Little Rebels: Radical Politics in Famous Children's Books

Last January I bought Kristin and I 20 kickboxing classes.   And we haven't gone once.   :/   I assumed they'd expired, but as I was double checking today, I discovered we have a couple more months!   That's one more of those random things I'd always wanted to do, and set out to finally make happen this year.   I have two months until I'm 25.  I thik I will have reason to smile when that day rolls around and I look back on the first quarter century of my life. 

Photographer: Jennifer Bryan
Model: Ramah Walker

[I'm going to have to find this!!]

MARY SHELLEY

Between the time Mary Shelley published anonymous edition of her iconic Frankenstein in London in 1818 and the publication of the second edition in France in 1823, where her name appears for the first time, she penned Maurice, or The Fisher’s Cot — a children’s story Shelley wrote in 1820 for a daughter of friends. Shelley tried to have the story published by her father, William Godwin, but he refused, burying the text for nearly two centuries. In 1997, scholars discovered a manuscript copy was in Italy, considered one of modernity’s great feats of literary forensics.

The story, written in the straightforward Romantic language of poet William Wordsworth, whose work Shelley was reading at the time she composed Maurice, is about a boy searching for a home and his encounters with a traveller who turns out to be his long-lost father. With its melancholy tone and autobiographical undercurrents, the rediscovered text revealed a new glimpse of Shelley’s character and offered a precious missing link in the evolution of her literary style.

source.

Love this picture.

Photographer: Jennifer Bryan (again).
Model: Esther Swaty.

Photographer: Jennifer Bryan

source.

This week. Via Steph.

I don't believe in seeking your horoscope for guidance, but I must say, I do think there is a lot more unity to the universe than we get. I believe God created the world, us and the constellations and it seems like Him to me to hide certain mysteries in them. So when I get these weekly little notes of what someone thinks the "universe" is saying, I have to smile when I see little truths and connections. I think the universe declares His glory, and since it's waiting in eager expectation for the sons and daughters of God to be revealed, I think it might know a bit more about those sons and daughters than they currently know of themselves. The danger's in divination. Do not worry about me, because the thing is, I don't have to seek the stars or someones interpretation of them... I can go straight to the Creator.

Those are my thoughts on it. And I love getting this weekly treat from Steph. Not to mention, whoever the guy who writes these things is, I'm pretty sure he's a creative writing major, because his descriptions are hilarious and awesome. It's like a little literary truffle.

(Love this shot)

Thinking about this lady this morning...

(Wine.   I know.   I don't post it on Facebook, but this is my blog.  And this picture has always made me smile.)

Wednesday Night. 

After getting home about 8 and practicing violin, I determined I better watch this documentary. LBL has "re-checked out" the film to me three times now. He is very serious about me watching it. I was equal parts surprise and annoyance when I found myself up much later than expected, but unable to go to bed until I saw who won the National Bee. It was surprisingly interesting, particularly because of all the parents... I could see a few of you really liking this after all. The dedication of the children and the parents was inspiring. These 8th graders would spend 5-8 hours a day for a year preparing, they'd tear through dictionaries like cotton candy, parents would hire coaches to train them in French, Spanish, etc and forgo social lives themselves.

LBL may be somewhat disappointed to hear I did in fact watch it alone, and without bowls of chips and snacks.  I was quite content though, me, my nail polish, and my cup of tea in a clean room.

 I've been thinking...

Blessed are those
who tasted (comprehend) what they've been
saved from.

Dear Love,

There are some things you should know.

I'm hoping I'll never have to figure out the tip again, unless you're not around. And even then, would you mind terribly if I just texted you the numbers? (only kidding about the texting, probably.) And I'm going to need you to be the guy who kills spiders. If you turn out to be one of those "save the insects" types, that's fine. Just, I'm going to need you to drive it an hour or so away. Don't worry, I'll have dinner ready for you when you get back home. Yep, I know, it sounds like I'm just looking to use you, and for calculating the tip and killing the spiders, I guess I am. Or, you can just see it as a young girl dreaming of her Mr. Charming.

Other thoughts? Oh, there's plenty, but I thought tips and insects a good place to begin. We'll have time for the rest one day.

I know, women, right? Can't live with us, and can't make babies without us. :)

I've seen a picture making its way around blogs the past couple days, of a man and woman hugging, and a trupet in his hands. I didn't make much of it, until I read Ashley's reecnt post this morning. Now, I get it. And Ash, you are so right, the way he looks at her through them all is incredible. It certainly appears a marriage to be admired and learned from, and he a great example of the man we're all hoping for.

PAUL NEWMAN & JOANNE WOODWARD
married 50 years.
 "Sexiness wears thin after a while and beauty fades, but to be married to a man who makes you laugh every day, ah, now that’s a real treat…"  - Joanne Woodward

Sounders FC 

-Tenth Avenue North, By Your Side

I would like to have my own home someday soon. Too many fun decorating ideas (like this), and the thought of making something our own with someone I love would be heaven. :)  This is where I get to remind myself, "Lord, ALL my hopes (and dreams) are in YOU."  Not in boys, homes and pretty things.  (Too honest?)

It's not that I want to be asleep right now, it's just that it's painful to be awake.

I don't understand why my body has recently decided not to sleep at night, it clearly needs it. I've had 4 shots and a drip and my head and hands feel like lead still. I could almost cry. But then I remind myself that I'm a grown-up and we don't get to cry over missed naps.

I know I slept at some point last night because I recall one very strange dream, but mostly I just remember a series of those terrible moments where you realize I'm awake, and I've been staring into the dark longer than I can figure.  When my alarm went off, it didn't seem to wake me, only to divert my mind from whatever it had been unknowingly fixed on.  Whatever the rendezvous, I hope my mind decides to stay home and sleep tonight.

Wisdom in this. I tend to overthink. I think most of us do. Our generation likes to think, and critique, and not ever accomplish.

Mom, this is what I've pictured for the back yard around the fire pit. ;)  A sort of rectangular sofa.

The wisdom of children! And the power of a good nap!!  :)

15 minutes left to this work day, and I survived!!! Kristin is on her way home now and will be back to work tomorrow!

"Sometimes, when you're in a fog, it's best to stand still.  Move carefully because you can't see where the edge of the cliff is."  
- L.C.  (my paraphrase)  Thinking this foggy morning of some wise counsel I received this weekend.  I'm looking out our windows at these huge sky scrapers and hoping their near, hidden rooftops are similar to the many hidden things in my life.  I'm hoping the many unseens are real and near, for me and those I love. 

We wait for mornings, and find dismay when all is clouded and still hidden with gray.
But often all it takes is an hour of sun to burn the changing veil hiding the constant away.
Why let clouds and vapors cause us to dismay?  They're vanquished with one steady ray.
And should the sun not rise again, they'll have not light and shadows with which to play.
So be it light or be it dark, the only thing that wont remain is the cloud that blocks your way.

Mom, I really do think we need to build this. I don't even NEED a loft... French doors and all :)

If I were to get a kitten, I'd want this one. :)

I dream of this coat (and bag).

And then I wake up and tell myself I have enough coats. :(

I spent all day Saturday at my house, just Kate and I. We left the TV off, built a fire, put in some Buble and enjoyed the perfect fall day. I did things I'd long been saying I'd do, and some I simply haven't made time for in nearly a year - like sketching, and sowing the button back on my favorite coat, making some gifts, writing cards and even sowing a fun pillow.  : )  And then we ended the night with a movie. 

And all the while I was thinking, this is why we love fall.

This is what won out. I had the house to myself, and after building a fire I decided I wanted to read right in front of it.  Right in front of it.  But, I also didn't want to lay on the floor.  So I pushed the coffee table over, and moved one of the couches into the center of the room, right in front of the fireplace.  I poured myself a cup of coffee. And began reading.  It was wonderful. When I heard my dad and Katherine get home, I waited with a childish grin for him to walk into the family room and see the rearranged room. He laughed at me. Asked me what I had done. And then, he joined me. I went and grabbed the foot rest from upstairs too at this point and the set up was complete. But, we didn't end up reading much. Instead, we caught up on plenty. And, he showed me twenty-eight apps. Twenty-eight! I made the mistake of showing him my awesome iPhone star app, and he then showed me the five (or six?) star/planet/constellation apps he has on his iPad. It was a bit much. ;) But time with Dad is all too little these days, so I didn't mind (but don't tell him). I love that I can have arguments with my dad over Tolkien, Lewis, Shelley, Rowlings and on! I love that insults from him include accusations about DH Lawrence. I love that he'll remember lines from my blog that he liked. I love that he's waiting for me to someday have a book published, and sitting on his shelf. And I love weekends where I see my family.

When my mom got home, she found the family room furniture all crammed together around the fireplace, and the room empty.  We'd moved to the back patio, and she simply joined us on the porch swing with a glass of wine. After a run with Kate (our gym closes at 7pm we discovered tonight, as we pulled up at 7:05!), we ended the night with dinner and more family videos.  This was a lovely and relaxing weekend and I don't want it to be over.  : /

PS, I think I'm finally starting to like Emma.

To nap, or read Austen... that is the question.

I think I'll build a fire, make some coffee and see which of the two options wins out.  We'll let Austen start with the ball.


We all accept that we want to be loved, but I think we don't often recognize how deeply we also want to be admired by our Love.  We don't have to be thought perfect, but boy is it hard when the people we most care about find fault in us, and more so when they seem to not find us admirable.  Just a mixture of reflections from Emma, and from life.  I guess the answer is humility.  Even still, I wouldn't want to marry a man who always saw the worst in me.  It seems a blessing to always believe the best in one another.  And I think that is something I'd absolutely want.  No doubt he'll see the ugly in me too, and hopefully bring it with love and kindness.  But I hope he interprets my actions with an assumption of love.  And, I hope he ardently admires and loves me, because Lord knows I won't marry a man unless I feel that way about him too.  I suppose it all just shows how much there still is for me to learn from how Father loves me, He who knows me for the worst and best.  The messes, the hopes, the motives and mixture. The promises.  The desires.  The past, present, and future.  'Who loved me when I was yet a sinner, separated from Him.'

Hmm, just this morning I was considering renaming my blog "Ramblings of a Fool."  Perhaps I'll just tag in there "Romantic Fool" and call it a good working title.   

It is 12:30 and I am still in my pajamas.  This happens about once a month, and it is glorious!  A day at (a nearly empty) home with crafts, coffee, sweats and a fire.  :)   Time to rest after a very long week.  One more day of work without Kristin, and two days before I have to face it. 


I did my weekend cleaning on Thursday, and I've already tackled one of the main tasks I had for this weekend (updating the long forsaken LinkedIn account - thank you Braden for regular harassment), now on to "funner" things. 

My sweet, cute, quiet little cousin Katherine broke the hard news to me this week. 

"I don't really need to go to the gym..."  "Oh, but I do.  Is that what you're saying?"  Only *smiles*  "Aw, I'll pretend I'm really excited to go to the gym not because I need to go to the gym, but because my old cousin Kati needs it and if I guilt her into taking me, she'll get her fat booty up and to the gym.  Is that it?"  "Mmm, kinda."

I like her. :)

PERFECTION, your name is bike!
(though some call you bicicletta)

Reminds me faintly of the ancient architecture in Brittany mixed with current Ireland, and perhaps a little Eastern US Coastal. ha! :) I like it.

Speak to me in Italian and I'm pretty sure I'll be yours forever.  :)

Wouldn't it be cute if that were their vows in Italian?

Did I ever end up posting this?   I  love this tie.   Love.  (And the collared shirt they paired it with, but the polo?  Eeeh.  Why?)

As long as I can remember, I've felt I would end up living someplace else one day.  By Junior High I thought perhaps Montana or some place in the country.  Along the way I've fallen in love with other places.  Just after high school, I began having coffee dates with Grandma Josie (then Spencer) and listening to the stories of her life.  How she met her husband, going to the old dances, married at 19, living in international countries during times of political unrest, her and her little daughter having to keep the car packed at all times in case they had to make a quick escape to the base where her husband worked.  It fed the dream in me all the more to marry, pack up and follow him on adventures wherever.  I think this played a part even in me pursuing writing.  I definitely have felt a strong conviction to write and to train at it, and that has been what held me to it, but also the flexibility it offered seemed to fit so nicely with this dream.  There's undoubtedly some bits I've added here and there, and I may not even know which until another ten, twenty or thirty years down the road.  But, the fact that it has never gone away, faded or drifted leads me to think a great deal more is coming and this desire is long-rooted to make me willing. 

All that said, this week I've been thinking... it's been tough enough to live away from one sister, it is going to be really tough if one day I live away from both.  I feel for all you ladies who do.  And I assume there's a great deal of comfort when you at least have your best friend there with you, it helps make it an adventure and not just a loss.  And I'm sure when I meet him, I'll be willing to go wherever he's called. (My parents are both suffering from minor anxiety attacks right now.  We've had this conversation before, and it's not their favorite.  Dad has given me state borders.  Mom's pushing for a 98028 zip code.)

Don't ask. :(

Kim has been my sweet big sister. She treated me and cared for me. She's nine years older and therefore it wasn't until I was in high school that we really began to get truly close. After a few incredible years of friendship, she moved across the country and we've been adjusting ever since. Kristin has been my ever-near partner in crime since I was walking, well, a few years after and to put it more accurately I was her ever-near partner in crime. NOBODY knows me the way Kristin does. And I don't mean that to say no one knows me as well, I mean no one knows me in the ways she does. I really believe she still sees the four-year-old me when she looks at me today, and she usually laughs at me - not something I say, or do, just looks at me, and laughs at me, once a day. It really helps build my confidence. :p I'm glad she moved out.  Only because I was getting really tired of waking up to her staring at me, laughing.  I'd often fall asleep while studying, and she'd come in and either just start laughing, or tapping me on the forehead.  She finds my face when I sleep entirely entertaining and always has.  We shared a room until she was 12 or 13 I believe. We ended up going through college together. And now we work together.  It's a huge comfort to have someone who knows when to laugh at me, when to roll their eyes at me, and when to just ignore me. And especially, when to play games with me, because I think I will always be this kid... especially when I'm around my family.  And Kristin will always be the one either in the boat with me, or pulling it around the house... or shoving it down the stairs and shouting, "Better hold on!"  I'm curious how normal either of us might have turned out without the other.  But I gave up on normal long ago.  This is far more fun.  Besides, who reads 'normal'?