Letter to a Love

******:

Really. I cannot believe this. Not even to answer when I declare my intention to marry. Well. I waited for three weeks. I didn't hear a thing from you. Stephen wanted to wait, but we were married last Saturday. The red sari may be a wedding gift now instead of a birthday present.

Signed,
Stephen's

Silence Is Golden

Apparently.

Letter to a Love

Dear ******,

It's been months since I last heard from you. I have decided to end it. If you have so little regard for me that you would neglect to inform me of major changes in your life, then you haven't enough regard to keep up a respectable relationship. And to think...I thought you still in India! Had your old friend Stephen not told me, I would think you there still! ******. How could you? I look like a fool to all of my friends. And my father, ******! He will never let me forget. Even Mother cannot be convinced to quiet him on the subject of my...singleness. And, so, that being the case, I am marrying Stephen.
Goodbye, ******. I hope you are having a wonderful time in Bangladesh. Oh, and don't think I'm letting you off that easily...I am still expecting a *red* sari when you finally get up the courage to return home.

Sincerely,
Mine

Happy Days

To Mason!

Woo hoo!

Fifteen years old!!

Hope you're having a great day, Mason! I wish I could've been there for the party.

Also, a Happy Belated Birthday to my aunt Nancy! I didn't have access to a computer on her birthday--the 17th--so I'm tellin' her now!

Oh! AND congratulations to Rodney and Therese! They were married on the 18th. YAAAAY!!!!! :D

Little Lizzie and Femme Fascinante

Femme: "Well, hello, Little Lizzie!"
Lizzie: "Well, hello, Femme!"
Femme: "Fancy meetin' you here!"
Lizzie: "Oui, oui! Please! stop and have your picture taken with me!"
Femme: "Picture? I don't *do* pictures. But...perhaps...I *could* be talked into a photo!"
Lizzie: "Ah, well...if I must settle for that, I must. ...Come--strike a pose!"
Femme: "Alright...how's *THIS*?"
Lizzie: "WHAT?! No way! *That* is weird...how *does* your brain work??"
Femme: "Fine. Fine. ...How's THIS??"
Lizzie: "..."
Femme: "Oh, fine. If boring I must be, then boring I must be." ::poses with Lizzie as seen in present photo::
Femme and Lizzie: ::smile for the photo::
Femme: "...Bess..." ::whispers from side of mouth:: "Let's push the photographer over into the punch bowl after this is finished...!"
Lizzie: "Nah!" ::whispers back:: "There's a little Froggy who's been hanging out around it *all night*...and he might get hit!"
Femme: "Aw. Fine. Bess! Quit talking! You're going to ruin the photo!!"

Letter to a Love

My Darling,

My birthday has come and gone without any word from you. Did you not receive my last five letters? I am sure that you must have, for I have sent them all first-class. Father says that is the only way to go. I had many birthday greetings sent to me via first-class. Though none of them were from you. With every one I received, I hope yours would be the signature, but no. I'm sure you thought of me, though. And your friends Stephen, Luke and John remembered. Sweet boys. When are you going to write to me? Had I not perfect trust in your fidelity to me, I would be worried that I have not heard from you in so long. Though I am sure, with your work, you have not had time to meet many women, anyway. What with being in India and far away and surrounded by work.... I know how your work takes up your time, but don't you think you could spare a few moments to write a quick note? Do send it first-class. It's best sent that way. You didn't send it first-class last time, and Father says I should suggest it. I must go now. There is a dance down at the lighthouse tonight. Do take care of yourself, dearest. I hope your lack of correspondence has not been due to any kind of odd illness contracted over in that strange country. Please do write soon. I know you most miss me as much as I miss you, but it would be nice to hold the proof of it in my hand, and to be able to read it over and over again.

Lovingly,
Yours

I Love Children

I was talking to my little brother the other day who reminded me of something Kolbe said about a year ago, and it was really cute, so I had to post it. Besides, Cathy would think it was funny if I did, so I am.... ;)

Kolbe, Ian and I were in the kitchen. I think they were finishing up lunch, and I had started on the dishes. As is usual with those two boys, a very...surprising...conversation took place:

~Ian: ::being random--saying random things--doing random things::
~Kolbe: ::talking about something which I can't quite recall now::
~Ian: ::I think he said a word Cathy didn't want the kids using, which reminded Kolbe a few words *he* knew which were inappropriate::
~Kolbe: "Yeah, Mom also doesn't want us using the 'S' word."
~Tracy: ::not too worried--had a pretty good idea of what was coming:: "Oh, really?"
~Kolbe: "Yeah." ::lowers his voice to a whisper:: "Shutup."
~Tracy: "Yeah, Kolbe, your mom is right. That's not a very nice word."
~Kolbe: ::looks around the kitchen to make sure nobody is sneaking up on him:: "I also know abother one."
~Tracy: "Really?" ::continues with dishes, not too concerned.
~Kolbe: "Uh huh. It's the ::whispers very softly:: 'F" word."
~Tracy: ::dishes discontinued:: "...What?" ::looks at the six year old sitting at the table::
~Kolbe: "Yeah. The one that ends either with a 'C' or a 'K'...I'm not sure which."
~Tracy: ::completely shocked and ready to interrogate Ian as to what TV show he was watching with Kolbe:: "Uuuh...Kolbe. What is this word?"
~Kolbe: "Well...I don't want to say it. It's bad."
~Tracy: "Yes, I know, Kolbe. But I think you should tell me, okay?"
~Kolbe: "Well...ookay...it's...::puts hands up to mouth and breathes:: ...freak!"
~Tracy: "Oh. Oh. Um. Okay. ...Hey, Kolbe...will you go tell Caitlin to come clear her plate from lunch?" ::Kolbe runs off::
~Ian and Tracy (and I think maybe Andrea): ::almost die from laughter::

Letter to a Love

My Dearest Darling,

Months. Days. Minutes. All of these have flown by in quick succession...like the stampeding of a turtle clan. How I miss you. Like the leaves falling from the trees in Spring, I feel your nearness. The memory of our last meeting has not left my mind since--when was it?--last Autumn. How I miss you. I'll not rest until we meet again. Cost what it may, I will see you again. When shall it be, Darling? When will you return to see me? Do not delay answering, for I am so lonely without you. Your letters bring me such comfort. Emotionally. Physically it's a little hard. I tried to read your last letter in my "special place", and I fell and broke my arm. The doctor said my special place should be more suitable to a person of my age, so I have abandoned Our Tree Branch for lower ground. Which reminds me. I am so depressed without you. I think perhaps I shall die of a broken heart if you do not return soon from India. I would not even mind if you brought the wrong color sari back for me. I know I stressed 'red' to you before you left. I feel guilty now that I insisted on 'red' so strongly. After all, what matters if it is 'red' as long as you return with it? Or if you didn't return with it at all, although disappointed, I would forgive you! You could just pick it up on your next trip to the heathen land. How I miss you. My birthday is coming up. Write soon. Father says I'm getting too old to ignore all of the nice boys around town. I, of course, was insulted, and told Mother what he had said. She took care of it directly, so you needn't worry. I am still waiting for you. Mother is throwing me a special birthday party this year. All of your old friends are coming. How I miss you. I wish you could hear me sigh for you. Write to me soon.


Passionately,
Yours

Latin Mistranslation

'Bambi II' is a very funny movie. I don't know why, but it absolutely cracks me up. The first Bambi I *do* *not* like, but the second one... "It's got these *EYEES* and these *CLAAAWS!* and it walks around like this...*hie--hie--hie* and, well... *YA GOTTA SEE IT!!!*"

My siblings and I have been quoting it all weekend, and last night at dinner was no exception. Michelle, the six year old, started it. Then, somehow, she got off on the new Winnie-the-Pooh movie...

Eeyore: "Cuz, it's my birthday."
Pooh: "WHAT? I didn't know that!"
E: "Didn't you see the cake?"
P: "No!"
E: "Didn't you see the presents?"
P: "No!"
E: "Well.....neither did I."

It was so cute. She did Eeyore *perfectly*. She would be all bright and bubbly quoting Pooh, and when it came Eeyore's turn, she looked absolutely crestfallen, and sounded totally depressed. A joke among the older siblings came to my mind as I watched her. "Michelle," I said. "Did you know that 'Eeyore' is Latin for 'Dad'?"

Michelle erupted in giggles, and fell off of her chair and onto the floor.

This was the point when my mother came back into the room.

Just as my mother seated herself, Michelle's little head popped up from under the table.

"Does that mean 'Pooh' is Latin for 'Mom'??!!"

::laughs:: Oops.

"What?!" My mom said.

"Well," said Michelle brightly. "Pooh likes Eeyore! So if 'Eeyore' is Latin for 'Dad'...."

An American Tourist in Paris

12.22.99: ...After Notre Dame we went went shopping in a lot of the gift shops. One in which I was *forced* to get a hat because I was "special." I was like, "No. I'm not going to go around looking like a tourist." Everyone, including the salesman, insisted that I wouldn't. Marc said that he and Justin looked like tourists, but that Ashley, Crystal and I didn't. Especially not Ashley and I because we had dark hair--"like the French girls."

Ashley tried on the one they wanted me to get, and without thinking I turned around and said, "It doesn't look like *that* on *me*, does it??" That totally came out wrong. Ashley was like, "Well, thanks!" I didn't mean it looked bad. It *looked like a tourist hat!* But everyone kept saying we didn't look like tourists, and Marc pulled the big brother guilt-trip he likes to pull and told me that "everyone was doing it" and I should do it, too. (Pretty much he was saying not to be a stick-in-the-mud.) Finally I said, "No. I don't have the money to buy it." So *somebody* bought it and told me I *had* to wear it.

So all five of us walked around Paris looking like tourists all day.

2.13.2006: For some reason I don't have this part written in my journal, but I totally should because it was *so* funny. It was total vindication for me...

A few hours after the hat shop incident, we stopped for lunch in one of the sidewalk cafes. The waiter came up to us and my brother said, "Parlez vous Anglais?"
The waiter answered, "Oui. Et vous?"
To which Marc replied, "No."
::giggles:: Oooh. It still makes me laugh. Marc realized his mistake right away, but it was still embarrassing for him. :D

After we had been in the cafe for a little bit, I think when the waiter returned to get our lunch orders, he said, "Are you American?" (We were mistaken for English a couple of times.) Marc said yes. The waiter then said, "Ah, oui." Then he pointed to our heads. "The hats," he said.

Since I have no memory of having said it then, let me say it now....

I told y'all so! We. looked. like. TOURISTS.

What was really funny was Marc's response. Quick and witty, he just said, "That's right. Cowboy." ::rolls eyes:: Yeah. Right. Cowboy hats with fur and felt. And bought three streets down.

I took the hat off as soon as the waiter walked away. Then the guys tried to get me to eat snails.

It didn't happen.

A Fifteen Year Old in Paris

12.10.99: Tonight we're in Paris. Well. I'm not. I'm in the hotel. Yup. Just me and the stupid Italian, French and German speaking TV. Oh well...there isn't anything on anyway, so it really doesn't matter what language it speaks.
I would get sick. I can't believe this. I'm in Paris!!! But I'm sick. ::ch::

~Later~

I fell asleep for a little bit, and I think the maid came in. She had to've. There's a rose in the bathroom that wasn't there when I fell asleep.

Did y'all know that French people are weird? Their TV says it's 21:36. That's the time... that's a weird time. Is it like that minus 12 thing? Even if it is, who the heck would say "It's 21 o'clock"?

We're staying in this really nice hotel. The guy that came to open the door of the car for us asked if we were going to stay. I asked Marc why he said that, and he said he didn't think we looked rich enough to be staying here.

I decided that I hate trains.

But I love planes.

But I don't like 8 hour flights. Ugh. I don't want to do that again.


12.11.99: The guys told me that Ashley almost got arrested last night. They tried to sneak her onto the metro. They didn't have enough money to get her a ticket, so they sneaked her on instead. They said it was the first time the Police had stopped ever stopped them to ask for tickets. I wonder if they learned a lesson?

Can Ya Dig It?

I took Bryan into Talequah today to get his C02 canister filled--and it exploded in my car! Okay, fine, so C02 doesn't "explode"...but it...burst out of the canister. And it sounded like a rocket taking off.

And that was the excitement for the day.

I found my journal from my first trip to Europe. The one I went on when I was fifteen years old. Oh my gosh. It is so funny. I'm thinking I might have to post a couple of the entries.

I also found a bunch of old letters. Few years old. Like...four and five years. Funny the things you forget.

I'm going to go hiking tomorrow. At least I hope that I am. The boys are having a bunch of guys over to paintball, and I might not want to go hiking when they are running around in the valley playing at war with red paintballs.

Maybe I'll just go to the cave. We're calling it the "Can Ya Dig It?" cave--and when we've reached the end of it, we're going to hang another sign that reads: "Yes, We Can!" (My dad has said "Can ya dig it?" for as long as I can remember...it just fits.)

I must be running off to bed now. ::sighs:: Yet another day has past in which I have not been able to do any writing. I have more time to write while I'm down in OKC! ...how can that be?? Ah well. Perhaps tomorrow.

Goodnight.

And Another...

Well, would you look at the time?

It's Justin's birthday.

Justin, you've been waaay too quiet lately. I hope the stress of seminary hasn't killed you dead. If it has we'll all be very sad, but as I'm sure it hasn't (for we would've heard had it indeed), I have this to say:

Happy Birthday, Justin!

Our prayers are with you. Every night when we say the intentions before we start the Rosary, Michelle says: "And for Justin! And for Justin! And *all* of the seminarians!" So, you're being good and prayed for as the Subdiaconate approaches. :)

(Did I spell that correctly? ::shrugs::)

For Melanie

Munich. 2003. It was hot. It was humid. But there was ice cream. And lots of beer. Not that we drank much of that, my friends and I. We were too busy with the ice cream, and with fighting off the men that desperately wanted a light for their cigarettes. "We don't smoke," we politely said, then turned our attention to other things...seemingly. The incident was to be gone back to and laughed over later that night. After the ice cream, and after running for our lives down the sidewalk. It was dark, around midnight I think, and a man had had a little too much to drink. And so a new past-time was born. The three little amigas ran through the streets of Munich with the man not far behind...at least we felt that he wasn't. Drunk men don't have the reputation for being able to keep with three scared girls running for their lives.

::laughs:: Good times, girl. ; D

Lost and Found

It had been a year and half since I had last seen her. I was so sad when I realized I had no way to find her. I kept putting it out of my mind, thinking surely she would show up. But I couldn't help being reminded on my birthday. I celebrated turning 21 without her. She couldn't have done much celebrating herself, but her presence had always been amusing to me. Not so much when I was little, but as I grew up and became a teenager, the fact that she was always and steadily there made me smile each time October 12th came around.

I realized she was gone--and I had no clue as to where I could find her--the year of my 20th birthday. I tried looking for her in the old house where she lived, but she wasn't there. I thought perhaps she had moved--but no--surely I would know if she had moved.

But...no...no memory of her taking part in a move. No way to know if I would every see her again, even though I asked everyone else that knew her. She had just seemed to disappear into thin air.

Until this past weekend at Clear Creek.

I got into Clear Creek around 9:30pm on Thursday. I was exhausted and had a good night's sleep before getting up the tackle to chore of unpacking...a project which took up most of my time over the weekend. As I unpacked each box, I remembered her. Had she moved, too? Where was she? It wasn't until Sunday that I got my answer.

I found her.

In a box.

Rolled in newspaper.

Stuffed at the bottom.

Her head, dented from the pressure of some books.

And her cute, little red nightgown was missing.

"My Corley!"

Ah, yes. A baby-doll given to me on my birthday 17 years ago. My Corley, mind you. Not just plain "Corley". A four year old with five siblings can't afford to take chances. You learn at a young age that you must stake your territory.

Strangely, although I remember packing everything else in that box, I have no memory of packing *her*. I do, however, remember threatening one of my cousins and my older brother (who helped move boxes and furniture from my room in the house) with certain death if "My Corley" was never found. I was positive they had done *something* insensitive with her.

(Oops.)

(Um.)

(Sorry.)

In another box I found My Corley's red nightgown. After washing and drying it, I put it back on, and placed her on my bed. I was very happy to realize that she is now 17 years old--but she doesn't look a day older.

Therese was there when I found My Corley. She fell in love with her. It was very hard for her to be patient while My Corley's clothes washed, but as soon as they were out, she asked for permission to sit quietly on my bed and hold her. Of course her request granted, with the strict understanding that she was not to leave the room.

Over the next few hours, and into the next day, I realized that I had begun calling her plain Corley. I guess it was because I no longer felt threatened by older siblings who might snatch her from me for torments sake.

The next day--Tuesday--after my trip back into the city, I got a phone call from Clear Creek. It was Becky saying that Therese had a question:

"May I hold Corley? I promise I'll sit on the bed and be careful."

Suddenly I realized it was time to reinstate the rule.

"*My* Corley, Therese. It's My Corley. And, yes...you may."

A Post I Won't Explain

Dear ******,

~Once we didn't turn away
Twice we thought we just might stay
Thrice it was we were brought back
And there it ended.

Once you came to say goodbye
Twice you listened as I cried
Thrice you stood as you thought back
And then it ended.

Once I asked that you not go
Twice it was you told me no
Thrice my pride was sought, then back
Then I did end it.~


ha. ha.--Yes, I really did write it! You thought I wouldn't, didn't you? ::laughs:: Let this be a lesson to you--I really will follow through on a threat.

Too bad I know you read this blog. Otherwise I mightn't have done it. ::winks:: You know you love me. :P

::laughs merrily and looks up with a daring grin:: Top that!...if you can....

~FLCN


PS- To my other readers: Sorry, but I won't answer any questions about this post. Normally I wouldn't have done such an annoying thing, but I was tempted beyond all power of resistance.

I'm Home

And I have a *ton* to unpack. My cute room which was quite empty is now becoming quite full. Woo hoo. Now I must go make sense of the chaos. I hope y'all miss me! ;)

"We Danced Anyway"

The summer air was heavy and sweet
You and I on a crowded street; there was music everywhere.
In a happy little foreign town
Where the stars hung upside down, a half a world away--far, far away.

I remember you were laughing. We were so in love, we were so in love.
And the band played songs that we had never heard, but we danced anyway.
We never understood the words, we just say oh la la la la la la la.
And we danced anyway.

They say you can't go back, well, baby, I don't believe that--come along with me. Come on and dance with me.
Maybe if I hold you close, baby we could just let go of these things that tie us down.
We'll come back around.
Do you remember? We were laughing. We were so in love, we were so in love.
And the band played songs that we had never heard, but we danced anyway. We never understood the words, we just sang, oh--la la la la la la la la la, oh...and we danced anyway.

These are the lyrics to one of my favorite songs. It's been going through my head for the past half hour.

I just finished packing, and all of my things are sitting in my car patiently waiting for transfer to Clear Creek--which will happen tomorrow evening. I can hardly believe this is finally happening.

I lived here with my aunt Nancy for a year and half. I did a lot of growing here. Learned new dances to tunes I'd never heard before. Now those tunes are familiar, and Clear Creek as all the new ones.

Well. I like dancing, so I think I'll learn them quickly.

And They Just Keep Coming

Happy birthday, Cuppy and Jen!!

Aaaw--Veronica is a whole year old now. Aaaw. She's so cute!

And Jennifer is a whole...year older. ::winks:: Happy birthday, girls!!