Saturday, April 24, 2010
It's dark.
I love rainy days. I love to curl up with a blanket and the wet cool smells and read a book. But reading books is hard when the lights go out. And if it is rainy with no electricity then it is also dark... which means it is very dark in the house which then tempts me to take a nap, which isn't the very best use of my time. Hmm....
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Monday, April 19, 2010
Friday, April 16, 2010
Monday, April 12, 2010
It's old...
One of my housemates has a bed that broke the other night. Her bed has broken a few times over the past years. Tonight she told us that the bed was old. Poor bed. Then it was revealed that the bed was a whole six years old. How is that an old bed?
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Adventures in the Classroom
Somehow, one of my kids got a hold of a Jesus action figure. If you press a button in his back he speaks random sentences from the Sermon on the Mount. He was the most muscly Jesus I have ever seen.
This is my inventor. This week he came up with a way to have 3 bottles of water all connected by straws. There was another straw that came up near his mouth so that he hardly had to move to take a drink. He's a genius. =)
Friday, April 09, 2010
GM Hopkins
I Wake and Feel the Fell of Dark
I wake and feel the fell of dark, not day ,
What hours, O what black hours we have spent
This night! what sights you, heart, saw; ways you went!
And more must, in yet longer light's delay.
With witness I speak this. But where I say
Hours I mean years, mean life. And my lament
Is cries countless, cries like dead letters sent
To dearest him that lives alas! away.
I am gall, I am heartburn. God's most deep decree
Bitter would have me taste: my taste was me;
Bones built in me, flesh filled, blood brimmed the curse.
Selfyeast of spirit a dull dough sours. I see
The lost are like this, and their scourge to be
As I am mine, their sweating selves; but worse.
I wake and feel the fell of dark, not day ,
What hours, O what black hours we have spent
This night! what sights you, heart, saw; ways you went!
And more must, in yet longer light's delay.
With witness I speak this. But where I say
Hours I mean years, mean life. And my lament
Is cries countless, cries like dead letters sent
To dearest him that lives alas! away.
I am gall, I am heartburn. God's most deep decree
Bitter would have me taste: my taste was me;
Bones built in me, flesh filled, blood brimmed the curse.
Selfyeast of spirit a dull dough sours. I see
The lost are like this, and their scourge to be
As I am mine, their sweating selves; but worse.
Monday, April 05, 2010
One day I was asked...
“Did your parents hit you for saying for example: “I will not eat rabbit’s meat” and things like that?"
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