Green Onions

Sorry for the onslaught on posts, but I simply must tell you about my latest culinary efforts. While eating at the W's recently, Mrs. told me that she was "growing" green onions in her kitchen. You simply put the white, root-like ends into a cup of water--and wait. I've been waiting for a little over a week now, and my onions have already completely regrown themselves!

My happy little onions. Don't they look lovely?
(If you're wondering what the red-fire-hydrant- looking thing is, it's my counter-top compost bin. <3)

This is the pizza that I topped with my very own green onions, which, I just realized, are also organic. [Please excuse the poor quality of these pictures; I took them on my brother's macbook.]

And this is me, smiling brilliantly because it's like I just won a life-time supply of green onions. We'll see how they taste in the chicken and dumplings I'm making tonight...

The Virginian

I just read Owen Wister's classic, The Virginian. I loved it. Set in the wide plains and rugged mountains of Wyoming, the novel intertwines descriptions of the landscape with stories of the characters who live in it. It is a tale of strength and courage and freedom--the essence of true America. Although the hero of the tale has no name other than "The Virginian," he is so clearly portrayed that I half believe he is of blood and breath.

The more I read American literature, the more I love it. I love its raw, gritty, earthy, almost vulgar nature. I love that the heroes are often not well-bred--yet still noble--and that the struggles are usually those of man against the land. Most of all, I love the freedom of American literature, how it takes me outside, and fills me with wonder.

LOST, again.

On Thursday night, Chris came over to hang out with the family. As we were sitting around chatting, somebody mentioned that the next season of the TV show Lost was out. Immediately all of us kids piled into the car and drove to Blockbuster. Now, I'd like to assert that I'm not a TV watcher. At all. But when it comes to Lost on DVD, I'm totally hooked.

The show is so intriguing it's impossible not to get irretrievably caught up in the story. My favorite part about the show is the character building. After five seasons, I feel like these characters are people I actually know. While I am watching them hunt wild boar and fight a giant smoke monster and travel through time, my heart is at my throat, my pulses pounding, my palms sweating. Because I know these people. It's like I'm right there with them. Anyway... Chris and Mollie both came over Friday night, too. We watched Lost again.

Saturday night I babysat, got cremed at Monopoly by a seventh grader, beat that seventh grader in a foot race, and sat by a crackling fire soaking in the warmth of the flames. Although it was almost 11 by the time I got home, Jessie and I decided it was high time to have a sleepover. Re-bundling, I dove headlong into the cold and went to pick her up (oh, the beauty of in-neighborhood besties!). Since it was so cold, we both burrowed under the covers in my bed, and then proceeded to stay up half the night "whispering" (in other words, laughing hysterically but trying to be quiet). After three late nights in a row, I'm pretty kapooped. But they were all worth it. :)

Back to speaking of Lost...I got lost today. (Just pretend that was a smooth transition. Just do.) After church, Macy, Tori and I loaded into Mirabelle to go to the Young Conservatives of Central Florida cook-out. Earlier this morning, I wrote down the directions to the park where the cook-out was. I forgot to bring the directions with me. But everything was going to be okay; I could remember! Well, we drove down I-4 and exited onto OBT. Things were great. Then suddenly I wasn't sure which way to go on OBT. I pulled over. Now, in case you didn't know, OBT is not exactly a choice place to be stopped on the side of the road-especially for three young girls. I made a quick phone call and got directions.

The directions were wrong. Or maybe I just misunderstood them. Whatever the case, we drove down OBT for about 15 minutes-in the wrong direction! OBT is really sketch. Getting lost on OBT is even sketcher. Eventually we realized our error, turned around, and finally arrived at the party. While most of the people played Ultimate Frisbee, my sisters, a few other girls, and I wandered down to the lake. The others continued on to a dock, but I stretched out in the grass, closing my eyes into the brilliant sunshine.

Although it is FREEZING COLD today, I was warm lying there in the sun. Of course, that might have had something to do with the fact that I was wearing: tights, knee-highs, jeans, a tank top, a long sleeve shirt, a jacket, a coat, and a scarf. Don't laugh; this weather is cold. And don't ask how I'm going to survive in Idaho next winter; I really don't know.

Well, my brother just returned from squirrel hunting in SC, and I am being bidden to come see his catch (tail and all!). Adieu.

It's A New Year

Happy New Year, my friends!

My "resolution" this year is to not eat sweets until I graduate high school (woot woot!). Over the holidays, I allowed myself to indulge in ever sort of sugary, high-fructose-corn-syrup-filled, artificial-perservative-stuffed, fake-dye-colored goody imaginable. No more! It'll be fruits and veggies and frozen yogurt for me now. :)

In that Car

Spending hours on end cramped in a little mini-van with six other people can get a little tiresome. So Caroline and I decided to have a some fun...

When you're in the car all day long, there really isn't much to do but eat. Apparently Caroline had one pretzel too many.

So did I.

It's so squashy in the backseat our heads grew together.

Drew took care of that by severing us apart with a crayon. We were pretty excited.

So excited, in fact, that we embraced the tight-quarters and decided to be friends. :)

Once Jessie and I taped our noses to our foreheads and went around like that for hours. Nobody thought to bring tape on the road trip, so Caro and I had to use our fingers.

This seemed to upset the aliens; they abducted our entire van.

When they realized seven people in a mini-van are more trouble than they're worth, the spit us back to earth. We glowed.

Then Daddy joined the fun!

Things got really crazy from there...

This Child is Born

Christmas has come and gone, but still I reflect on the birth of Christ. Many of the cards hanging from strings in our red kitchen depict a peaceful scene of Mary, Joseph, Jesus, and some sheep. Everything is clean and peaceful. But the birth of our Saviour was neither clean nor peaceful.

After a long journey through the dust of the Middle East, Mary and Joseph arrived in Bethlehem, only to be turned away from inn after inn. Finally they were given lodging in a stable, amongst the stench of cow manure, sheep urine, and rotten straw. Soon after, Mary gave birth to God, the King of Kings. Yet he, in his mind-blowing humility, was born just as any other child: in blood and pain and screams. His birth was only a shadow of what was to come--his death.

In blood he was born and in blood he died. For us. It was all for us. God, the King of the Universe, the Mighty Lord, suffered the humiliation, pain, and brokenness of humanity so that he could save us. This is Christmas. This is the Gospel. Let us rejoice!

We Are Seven

--A Simple Child,
That lightly draws its breath,
And feels its life in every limb,
What should it know of death?

I met a little cottage Girl:
She was eight years old, she said;
Her hair was thick with many a curl
That clustered round her head.

She had a rustic, woodland air,
And she was wildly clad:
Her eyes were fair, and very fair;
--Her beauty made me glad.

"Sisters and brothers, little Maid,
How many may you be?"
"How many? Seven in all," she said
And wondering looked at me.

"And where are they? I pray you tell."
She answered, "Seven are we;
And two of us at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea.

"Two of us in the church-yard lie,
My sister and my brother;
And, in the church-yard cottage, I
Dwell near them with my mother."

"You say that two at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea,
Yet ye are seven!--I pray you tell,
Sweet Maid, how this may be."

Then did the little Maid reply,
"Seven boys and girls are we;
Two of us in the church-yard lie,
Beneath the church-yard tree."

"You run above, my little Maid,
Your limbs they are alive;
If two are in the church-yard laid,
Then ye are only five."

"Their graves are green, they may be seen,"
The little Maid replied,
"Twelve steps or more from my mother's door,
And they are side by side.

"My stockings there I often knit,
My kerchief there I hem;
And there upon the ground I sit,
And sing a song to them.

"And often after sun-set, Sir,
When it is light and fair,
I take my little porringer,
And eat my supper there.

"The first that died was sister Jane;
In bed she moaning lay,
Till God released her of her pain;
And then she went away.

"So in the church-yard she was laid;
And, when the grass was dry,
Together round her grave we played,
My brother John and I.

"And when the ground was white with snow,
And I could run and slide,
My brother John was forced to go,
And he lies by her side."

"How many are you, then," said I,
"If they two are in heaven?"
Quick was the little Maid's reply,
"O Master! we are seven."

"But they are dead; those two are dead!
Their spirits are in heaven!"
'Twas throwing words away; for still
The little Maid would have her will,
And said, "Nay, we are seven!"

By: William Wordsworth