"Ever forward, but slowly."
--Von Blücher
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
A Little of the New in the Now.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
SONNET 116


Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
--Old Billy Shakes--
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Excelsior!
The shades of night were falling fast,
As through an Alpine village passed
A youth, who bore, 'mid snow and ice,
A banner with the strange device,
Excelsior!
His brow was sad; his eye beneath,
Flashed like a falchion from its sheath,
And like a silver clarion rung
The accents of that unknown tongue,
Excelsior!
In happy homes he saw the light
Of household fires gleam warm and bright;
Above, the spectral glaciers shone,
And from his lips escaped a groan,
Excelsior!
"Try not the Pass!" the old man said;
"Dark lowers the tempest overhead,
The roaring torrent is deep and wide!"
And loud that clarion voice replied,
Excelsior!
"O stay," the maiden said, "and rest
Thy weary head upon this breast!"
A tear stood in his bright blue eye,
But still he answered, with a sigh,
Excelsior!
"Beware the pine tree's withered branch!
Beware the awful avalanche!"
This was the peasant's last Good-night,
A voice replied, far up the height,
Excelsior!
At break of day, as heavenward
The pious monks of Saint Bernard
Uttered the oft-repeated prayer,
A voice cried through the startled air,
Excelsior!
A traveller, by the faithful hound,
Half-buried in the snow was found,
Still grasping in his hand of ice
That banner with the strange device,
Excelsior!
There in the twilight cold and gray,
Lifeless, but beautiful, he lay,
And from the sky, serene and far,
A voice fell, like a falling star,
Excelsior!
--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Come What May...and LOVE it!! :D
There's not just 'one way' to be happy.Let the pieces fall...fall where they may.You can't catch them in the air--Nor plan your course 'round who knows where.You know your end, so experiment along the way!--me, just now. :)
A Little of Life
- Earthquakes, fires, Steaks...just not here.
- We've had car crashes, sunburns, rashes, and only hamburgers...here.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Overdue Update.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
War. What is it good for?
Saturday, July 2, 2011
K-Knock
Saturday, June 25, 2011
The Brave One.
Friday, June 17, 2011
TN or TMD
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
This is why "the truth is rarely pure and never simple."
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Parachutes.
Don't Look Back.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Let's Get Moving
"While the Lord will magnify us in both subtle and dramatic ways, he can only guide our footsteps when we move our feet."-Marion G. Romney
Sunday, May 29, 2011
The Road Not Taken
Monday, May 23, 2011
Where the Sidewalk Ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
IT'S THE little THINGS
Friday, May 20, 2011
NYC, way to be.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
faith of a child.
Fears.
Monday, May 16, 2011
the miracle of redemption
- The Phantom of the Opera. (my first broadway)
- Les Miserables.
- The Secret Garden.
- Jane Eyre.
- A Tale of Two Cities. (charles dickens in general)
- The Lord of the Rings.
- Persuasion. (jane austen in general)
- The Lion. The Witch. And the Wardrobe. (c.s. lewis...)
- Harry Potter.
- Turandot. (my first opera)
- (lists can go on forever if allowed....so...)
Sunday, May 15, 2011
The Touch of the Master's Hand
It was battered and scarred,
And the auctioneer thought it
hardly worth his while
To waste his time on the old violin,
but he held it up with a smile.
"What am I bid, good people", he cried,
"Who starts the bidding for me?"
"One dollar, one dollar, Do I hear two?"
"Two dollars, who makes it three?"
"Three dollars once, three dollars twice, going for three,"
But, No,
From the room far back a gray bearded man
Came forward and picked up the bow,
Then wiping the dust from the old violin
And tightening up the strings,
He played a melody, pure and sweet
As sweet as the angel sings.
The music ceased and the auctioneer
With a voice that was quiet and low,
Said "What now am I bid for this old violin?"
As he held it aloft with its' bow.
"One thousand, one thousand, Do I hear two?"
"Two thousand, Who makes it three?"
"Three thousand once, three thousand twice,
Going and gone", said he.
The audience cheered,
But some of them cried,
"We just don't understand."
"What changed its' worth?"
Swift came the reply.
"The Touch of the Masters Hand."
And many a man with life out of tune
All battered with bourbon and gin
Is auctioned cheap to a thoughtless crowd
Much like that old violin
A mess of pottage, a glass of wine,
A game and he travels on.
He is going once, he is going twice,
He is going and almost gone.
But the Master comes,
And the foolish crowd never can quite understand,
The worth of a soul and the change that is wrought
By the Touch of the Masters' Hand.
Myra Brooks Welch
Thursday, May 12, 2011
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Loved. Really LOVED! :)
I hope that in whatever small way I interact with all those around me, that I will bring some measure of Christ's perfect love into their life. By just a smile. A compliment. Or the random strangers who know more about my life than so many that I see every day. Every one needs to know they are cherished.
I am trying to be more humble. I am trying not to care what people think of me. I am weak and pathetic. Think what you may, this is who I am. I am trying to not give up. I am trying to do my duty...sometimes I try too hard, other times not hard enough. But time just keeps marching. Healing. Cleansing. Sanctifying. Glorifying.
I have often misunderstood the wonderfully divine gift of time. I still try to reconcile myself to its rhythm. I often feel out of step. I am trying to fully comprehend all of these wonderful temporal, preparatory commandments.
I struggle with time. I struggle with balance. I struggle to prioritize. Organize. At least I can say I accessorize. ;P
I am learning to accept that it just does not matter. It is a gift to be weak. To have the opportunity to acknowledge openly to yourself and others all that you are. I am grateful for my weaknesses because they help me to be meek. I would rather be meek. Humble. Sincere. Genuine. My weaknesses are a blessing because they help to break down the walls people normally tend to put up, as everyone desires to put their best foot forward.
No one wants to feel inferior. I like to think that my occasional awkwardness might be endearing. That my klutziness allows others to be at ease. That my many imperfections being so apparent allows others to feel brave enough to let their own flaws be seen. If we hide our weaknesses, we become ashamed. If we hide them, they can never come to light and be seen for what they are: opportunities to grow. If we hide them, we cannot progress.
Playing the piano today was really hard. There were so many incredible musicians there, I longed for one of them to take my place instead of making me suffer through a humiliating, tormenting spectacle. People who have heard me play music that I have written or certain very well rehearsed performances think I'm all that and a cup of tea. I'm not. (Or not yet? :P) Such times were a rare gift of mercy to me. To be able to shine for a moment in the light of the inspiration that I was conduit to. A taste of what I might become as long as I keep at it. This has happened maybe a handful of times in my life. All of the rest of my experiences seem like today: trial by fire, lakes of torment, the hell of Dante's Inferno kind of experiences. To be constantly given music at the last minute doesn't really doesn't help my already crazy, irrationally intense fears of playing in front of anyone other than myself. It seems counter intuitive as it reinforces my fears. Instead of PTSD, it is TSD. The car accident keeps happening over and over again!
But this is where I simply have to step back and realize that people who are listening with the spirit will be touched by my sincere offering. Those who are distracted by my blundering...well, I can't help that. I am coming to know that people don't judge me as harshly as I judge myself. They love me. They want to help me. They want to nurture and serve me.
And they are. I am learning to let people serve me. To nurture me. To love me. To heal me.
I still seek to come bearing gifts, but when my well runs dry I seek to be filled.
The sum of the whole is greater than its parts.
"There is only one happiness in life, to love and be loved."
--Hawthorne
Saturday, May 7, 2011
irrational fears
Lizzy: "Emily, why do you floss after you brush your teeth??"Emily: "I don't know...my parents never taught me how to brush my teeth. I used to swallow my toothpaste for years."Lizzy: "Oh my!"
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Impulse Control?
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
pure hearts
lessons about lecturing
Sunday, May 1, 2011
may day, mayday!!
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Voting Blunders
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Favorite Names
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Spring has Sprung. :)

| LXI |
| EACH life converges to some centre | |
| Expressed or still; | |
| Exists in every human nature | |
| A goal, | |
| Admitted scarcely to itself, it may be, | 5 |
| Too fair | |
| For credibility’s temerity | |
| To dare. | |
| Adored with caution, as a brittle heaven, | |
| To reach | 10 |
| Were hopeless as the rainbow’s raiment | |
| To touch, | |
| Yet persevered toward, surer for the distance; | |
| How high | |
| Unto the saints’ slow diligence | 15 |
| The sky! | |
| Ungained, it may be, by a life’s low venture, | |
| But then, | |
| Eternity enables the endeavoring | |
| Again. | 20 |
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Infatuate=Comes to Hate??
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Girl Scouts' New Anthem
I did nothing...all day long. :)
- I wake up and get Rachel off to school.
- I'd had a rough night so I go back to sleep until about 10am.
- I wanted to go for run, so I ate instead.
- And then I still wanted to go for a run, so I watched a movie.
- Actually, I watched a movie three times in a row.
- The movie was "Seven Brides for Seven Brothers." A classic. My goal is to watch it seven times before I have to return it to netflix. Oh, netflix...how I do love thee.
- I practiced the piano for a decent time period.
- Rachel comes home!! :D
- I began a book called "Don't Sweat the Small Stuff...and it's all small stuff"
- I played tennis with Pops. Or tried to. It turned into the most intense introductory lesson of tennis EVER. Here I was thinking that this was just a daddy-daughter date to the park and we were gonna bring some balls and hit them around with these racket things. But apparently this is A SPORT. Not just any sport, but the most serious, complicated, discipline demanding, strategy serving, full-time-job of a sport there is. Something that my seven-year-old tennis lessons did not prepare me for. I suppose there are just some things you cannot imagine or prepare for in childhood. Really, we did have a good time. :) I felt loved and special...even if a little resistant to his correction.
- We get home and the lesson CONTINUES. My mother and brother drive into the driveway and Matthew jumps out and comes bounding toward me...he's gonna show me a thing or two, Mr. Tennis Player-for-real. He's on the team and everything. But, again being resistant to all this correction, I start horsing around with him. I try to steal the SKLZ ball away from him. I do a feint as I run at him with my racket aloft. We wrestle for a few minutes and all of a sudden I lose my grip and fall back, giving him a pretty good whack on the forehead.
- Matthew now has a welt the size of a tennis ball...perhaps that is what I was subconsciously aiming for??
- We go out to Rita's for a treat. Matthew, Rachel, and I. Matthew gets a gelati. Rachel a custard. I get an italian ice. Rachel and I were going to have a make-shift gelati by combining forces. I held up my end of the bargain, but she decides that there is simply not enough custard for two people. In spite of this, she shares a bite. :)
- Some more family time.
- Rachel and I watch a Disney Channel movie.
- Help Rachel finish her homework.
- More piano.
- I laugh and text a couple friends on my cell phone for way too long.
- Waste time on the computer instead of sleeping.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
April Fools Day
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Favorites.
Lost my balance on a high wire
Trying to figure out what to do
Pushed to the edge of my reason
Everywhere around me it's treason
I don't want to do that to you
Kamikaze airplanes in the sky
Are we going down or will we fly?
This could be a shipwreck on the shore
Or we could sail away forevermore
This time it's sink or swim, sink or swim
Hearing the song in your laughter
A melody I chase after
No one else has done this to me
Kamikaze airplanes in the sky
Are we going down or will we fly?
This could be a shipwreck on the shore
Or we could sail away forevermore
This time it's sink or swim, sink or swim
Take a deep breath
No more time left
This is what I thought I wanted
Why am I afraid?
Kamikaze airplanes in the sky
Are we going down or will we fly?
This could be a shipwreck on the shore
Or we could sail away forevermore
Kamikaze airplanes in the sky
Are we going down or will we fly?
This could be a shipwreck on the shore
Or we could sail away forevermore
This time it's sink or swim, sink or swim...
Monday, March 28, 2011
BIG little STEPS
- I got my car fixed. Registered. Insured. And have been driving it for a month and a half.
- I not only applied at Walgreens but have been working there since the beginning of February.
- I went to the temple and made special promises as I took the next step on my spiritual journey.
- I began piano lessons a few weeks ago with Wendy McNiven. AMAZINGNESS.
- I am again attending my "conventional ward" with my family. I am again the Sunbeam teacher! :)
Saturday, February 5, 2011
My Birthday Resolution...
Friday, February 4, 2011
The Bridge Builder

Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Groundhog's Day 2011
Monday, January 31, 2011
Baby Monkey (Going Backwards On A Pig) - Parry Gripp
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
productively unproductive
Monday, January 24, 2011
Oh Mazda.

p.s. I am not particularly partial to white cars...though I do like them. This was just one of the better pictures that I could find and legally post.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Thursday, January 20, 2011
I am a Chinese Bamboo Tree

Monday, January 17, 2011
Popcorn Popping
Watching this and then reading the comments made me so happy. You MUST read the comments!!! I promise you that you will laugh heartily. :)
Sunday, January 16, 2011
"My Heart Hurts!!"
Thursday, January 13, 2011
IF
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream--and not make dreams your master;
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and evertyhing that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!
--Rudyard Kipling




