But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ. For he himself is our peace, who has made us both one and has broken down in his flesh the dividing wall of hostility... Eph. 2:13-14

Wednesday, March 29

Part 3 - well, in a minute

Okay, I'll go on with the story in a minute, but I just wanted to encourage everyone to watch the Safety Dance video. Did you know that I can't find where to buy the song anywhere? You can get a version to sing with, but not with Men Without Hats singing it. I'm going to look again, though. Maybe I can find something. Oh yeah, I just remebered what I was going to write. I finally got my writing project for the Holocaust Museum written! Just the rough draft, and I have 49 too many words.

Okay, Part Three

The little dog dimly saw the child running toward him, but did not have the strength to lift his head to get a better view. Slowly his world went dark and he drifted into blissful sleep. When he awoke he was lying on a soft cusion next to a warm fire. Blinking, he looked around in confusion and saw the child.
"Are you waking up now, little dog?" The voice was soft and gentle. The little body relaxed a little and he leaned his head back into to cusion. "Are you hungry?" Setting a dish of steaming food next to his head, the child sat back and watched quietly. Feeling as if he were in a dream, the little dog sniffed at the little plate and began to eat. When he had finished he felt much better, but still very weak, and felt very sleepy with his full little tummy. "Just sleep little dog. Get lots of rest and you'll be good as new."

Okay, I've got to go, but I'm open for suggestions on how this story should go. Vauge ideas are swimming around in my head, but if I like your ideas then I might put them in. Of course, I could love them and forget to put them in, or I could just turn control freak on you like I do with most of my stories and take complete control and ignore most of the suggestions I recieve. But as of now I have no intention of doing so, so please give suggestion.

Tuesday, March 28


Okay, we'll get back to the poor little dog in a little while. Right now I just want to tell everyone that there have been some changes made which have moved all of that cool stuff that used to be at the side (over there --->) way down to the bottom
so I strongly urge you to scroll for a while so that you can find out about me and stuff, plus, (this is the added bonus that made every thing go down) I'VE GOT THE SAFETY DANCE VIDEO ON HERE!!! Everybody cheer! Now if only I could figure out a way to get it on to my ipod...

Tuesday, March 21

Part 2

Once, when Leonardo da Vinci was only a little child, there was a small dog, smaller than a cat. His hair was white for the most part, spotted here and there with large black dots and a head of the same color, excepting a dark brown muzzle. He was a lonely little mutt, unloved, uncared for, the perfect picture of a forlorn animal. He lived on the capricious generosity of passersby, and his little ribs showed plainly through his fur, stained brown with the dust and filth of streets. He wandered all over the earth, following whoever gave him a kind look until he could walk no further, then stopping to rest, eating what he could find, and continuing in his meaningless, endless journey. After three years of this miserable existence, the poor dog stumbled by a home, delirious with hunger and exhaustion. Crawling weakly up on the front step, he collapsed with a pitiful whimper. A kind-hearted little boy of only five years heard his pitiful cry and ran to his aid...

Monday, March 20

Blogging while I'm cold

Hello everyone! This must have been a really busy week for everyone, because I have gotten hardly any emails, and I haven't had much time to check them. I've been having fun recently on my emails to one of my friends by making pictures out of letters. I don't think that it would work here, but I can try. There, if that looks really weird, then I'm very sorry, but it's not my fault.

Right now I'm waiting for this video to load called "Hobbit Folk Rock". It's great, but I'm not going to put the link on here because I have NO idea what the rest of the website is like, so I'm not going to have someone investigating it, finding something terrible, and blaming Sarah. I'd love to be able to get it on my ipod, but I can't as of now. I noticed that there was an option to get other videos on stuff like your cell phone (I have no idea if ipods are included, since it was only noticed in a glance) but this one isn't. Kim showed it to me on Sunday and I want to show it to the rest of my family.
I'm cold. The place in our house that the computer is situated is colder than the refrigerator. Maybe even the freezer. Our front door opened a while ago all by itself (okay the wind did it) and it was really creepy. I thought that someone had opened it, but then I noticed that it was locked, so that was a strange discovery. Anyway, I guess I didn't shut it well enough when I took out the trash. When I'm cold I have this habit of typing reallyreallyfastsothatit'shardformetogetthewordsspelledcorrectly or I start mixing them together or something. Sorry if you can't read that, but it was just an attempt to be humorous and show how I'm typing very quickly, except when I typed that I actually went slower because I had to concentrate on not hitting the spacebar. I'm still cold. I guess if I were completely dry I wouldn't be, but since I never dry my hair (or at least, not with a towel) my hair is going to be wet for a while. Now I've got that song stuck in my head. I'm so cold. JM started a fire, but it's out. I need something interesting for my readers to read. I'll write something, you may or may not like that, but hey, if you do then great, if you don't, then I won't stop you from skipping to the bottom. Okay, a subject...dog...Leonardo DaVinci...maybe...

The Dog of a Genius
Part 1
Everyone has at least heard of Leonardo DaVinci, and most know that he was the one to paint the Mona Lisa, and who could walk down the road without hearing of "The DaVinci Code"? But there are very few who know about the Dog behind the Story. Perhaps there are a handful of us, perhaps only two, or it could be that I am the only one who knows the story. It is an ancient tale, told from generation to generation in my family. The story goes as follows...
If you want the rest you're going to have to keep reading my posts, because I have to get off now, and I want people to keep coming back. Of course with a threat like this (if you keep reading I'll keep writing) it might drive you off for good. THIS IS NOT INTENDED. Please let me know if you want me to stop, and I'll think of something else to put on here.

Saturday, March 11


Hello, all of you people who are making me happy by reading my blog! So, is this annonymous peroson '[my]biggestfan'? If so, you really don't have to be so secretive. I'd think that it was one of my friends, but it is way too positive for them. I thought that it was this one certain person, but she says that she hasn't posted, which doesn't mean anything, but she isn't one much for sending false emails. So anyway, thank you, Yourbiggestfan, but I really do think that my stuff doesn't focus enough on the really important stuff.
Nextdoorneighbor is online right now, so I'm going to be slightly distracted while I blog. Well, she's going super slow with the email right now, so maybe I won't be that distracted.
So, there's a motorcycle race going on at Daytona right now, and so it's on the television. Whoa, a rider is already down! This could be a really interesting race!
Okay, I guess my grandma wouldn't mind if I gave a preview of my writing by using a short story that I wrote for her for this writing thing I do with her, so here it is.
I will never forget the time that my father was called to war. I was eight, full of life and happiness, completely unprepared for the shock of my daddy leaving me. In the days leading up to his departure the house was full of people running here and there, people crying, people laughing, and soldiers, so many soldiers. They were once my father's friends, old school-mates and fellow employees, yet now they were different. Their uniform, which they were so proud of, always laughing and showing it off, this uniform changed them somehow. No longer did I see the kind-eyed Mr. Wilson who would bounce me on his knee; he had changed into a harsh, terrifying man that came to take my father away and change him, too.
Through all of the rush, I sat alone in my little window seat, from which place I could see people coming and going, both on the road and inside. I didn't get in the way, and I didn't call attention to myself. But my silence caught my father's attention, he was the only one who noticed. He would smile at me and wink every time he walked past, and I would attempt to smile back. Once, after seeing another soldier out safely, he came over by me and knelt down.
"What's the matter, Baby Girl?" I just shrugged my shoulders. I didn't want to ruin his happiness. My father glanced around the room. Momma was chatting with some women over some tea, besides that the house was empty. "What do you say we go on a walk?" he asked, nudging me in the arm with his elbow. I smiled a little and hugged my doll. Our walks were always fun.
We walked down the street, passing shop windows full of posters advertising war-bonds, and out of town. A large field lay just a little way out, and we would often go there, chasing butterflies and picking some of the many wildflowers that grew there. On days like that one, when the sky was deep blue and the sun shining bright on the spring landscape, the field seemed to come alive with color, as if a careless artist had dropped paint all over the scene.
Somehow, the picture wasn't as bright when my heart was sad. Silently, we made our way through the tall grasses that came up to my shoulders to an enormous oak tree that sat in the middle of the field, acting like a guard against anyone who would dare harm the wildflowers. Sitting down, my father gazed out across the landscape, our little town standing out from the fields and farms. I followed his example, but quickly looked down at my doll's eyes. My father looked over at me.
"It's going to be a good spring, plenty of rain." I quickly brushed the tears that had begun to trickle down my face away.
"How can you tell?" I asked.
"Every time a little girl as sweet as you cries, the whole world wants to cry, too." He leaned over and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. "Do you want to know a secret?" I looked up eagerly. "I'm scared to death of going into this war." I was shocked. How could someone as brave as my father be afraid?
"What are you afraid of?" I asked.
"Well," he paused and looked around, as if making sure that no one was listening, "To be honest, I'm afraid that the generals can't make a good apple pie." I laughed and my father raised his eyebrows. "You think I'm joking? Have you ever tasted a general's apple pie? But it's not only that," he sighed and looked down. I became suddenly serious, wondering if it was worse than bad apple pie.
"What else is there?"
"I'm afraid for your mother. She's awfully afraid of the dark. I don't know who's going to keep her from being scared." I stood up, proud that I could take away my daddy's fears.
"I can keep her from getting scared." My father smiled and gave me a hug.
"I knew I could count on you, Baby Girl," he said as he stood up, "Now let's go see if your mother's apple pie is finished baking yet." He started to walk off, but I stood still.
"Daddy?" I asked, worried. He stopped and turned toward me. "If I'm busy keeping Mother from being afraid, whose going to make me brave?" He came back up to me and squatted down so that we were eye-to-eye. Glancing over, he picked a pure white daisy and held it between us.
"Whenever you see the wildflowers, I'll be thinking of you. When you're afraid, just look at the wildflowers and pray." I took the slender stem from his hand and rubbed the soft petals against my cheek. Smiling suddenly, I threw my arms around his neck.
"I'll be brave, Daddy. You can count on me." Picking me up, he swung me around in a circle and set me back down.
"I knew that I could count on you, Baby Girl," he said as he took my hand in his. Together we walked back to the house, prepared for the future. In my hand I clutched the daisy tightly. My father may have been going to war, but I still had my wildflowers.
So, that's a sample of my writing. It's not very good, but I'm not putting it in any contest or anything, so I guess it doesn't matter. I still haven't gotten to her next installment, I can't think of anything right now. So, I guess I'm done for now. Thank you again for reading!

Thursday, March 9


Okay, to begin I want to thank all of the wonderful people who have read this blog and let me know. Also, I would like to know who the anonymous person was, but I guess since they sign as anonymous, they would like to remain anonymous. Now I'm not sure what to do. I could address the questions that I have been asked here, or I could do it down at the bottom of the page where you can find it under "1 comment". I suppose I'll answer them here.
First, they said that I should lighten up. You must realize that I don't really have this great balance. I'm either serious, or ridiculous. Some of my posts are lighter than others. Those are the ones that are kinda boring, since they're all about what's happening every moment of my time on the internet. Sorry. I'll do my best. You're not the first person that's told me this. I once had a friend of mine tell me that I am too serious, and my father has agreed. He said that even when I'm having fun I'm serious. I'm kinda glad. I like being known for being serious (okay, before someone starts cracking up, I know that I'm not that serious). But at the same time, there are certain people that bring out every un-serious thing about me. Hopefully they know who they are and don't think that I'm some air-head that chatters about stupid things all the time. They just make me happy and bubbly.
Second, they said that they wanted previews of my writing. Um... they probably wouldn't if they knew my writing. I'm not sure what they want. I would put this one story that everyone loves, but I'm not sure that the people that I sent it to would like that. Of course, I've already sent it to everyone (well not everyone but most everyone) that I know. I'll ask my mom...um, she seems slightly worried that I don't know who commented, so I guess you'll be on hold.
Third, they asked what I like to write about. Give me a subject and I'm usually pretty happy. For my own entertainment, I write Fantasy, but recently I've started going into more modern fiction. Yeah, I guess that would be what I like to write: fiction. Of any kind, I do historical and just pure out-of-thin-air fiction. Sometimes it's kinda science-fictionish, but hardly ever.
Fourth, they asked if I wanted to be a writer. YES! I love writing! I love to channel my imagination on to paper. Actually, I only started writing because I thought that I would explode if I didn't do something about my imagination. It's always driving me crazy, this imagination. It makes my dreams extremely vivid and exhausting, but it's won a contest for me and people seem to enjoy my writing.
Fifth, they asked what my other hobbies were. Well, um... I love to read, and... that's about it.

So, there we go. Thanks again for reading!

Saturday, March 4

Post-Anne Frank Saturday

Last night I watched "Anne Frank". When I read "Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl", I didn't know that she died in a concentration camp, so when I found that out I was beside myself with grief. I guess because I could relate with her in some cases (except for the obvious lack of hiding to save my life). So I thought that when I saw the movie it wouldn't be as rough. I was wrong. For one thing, at the end of the Diary it just gave a brief overview of what happened to her, in the movie it showed it. So I cried a lot, but I'm fine now. I woke up kinda blah, but I'm finally better after some Bible Study and prayer.
Right now I'm listening to English actors and actresses singing about clouds. It's from the "Snoopy: the Musical" soundtrack (with original London Cast!). Okay, that was weird. It just interrupted Lucy in the middle of her line and instead put "Groundhog Day" soundtrack music on. 'The Kidnap And The Quarry' to be exact. Okay, now that's over and FFH is on. I guess this is kinda boring, so I'll try to think of a new subject.
The weather was absolutely beautiful for a long time, but now it's cold. My Spanish is really interesting. I can say: "Waiter! The Menu!" plus, of course, various other things, but that's fun. I wish that people would read this thing. And when they were done reading it, they would post something. I realize that I don't update it much, but hey, there's a lot to read. I've been doing this thing since August!
Oh yeah, that reminds me, Our annoying TV is gone! We have NetZero HighSpeed. The pictures look terrible, but it goes a little faster. 'Billy and the Mystery Box' is playing. I'm fixing up my Avatar on Yahoo so that I can send it to Tinkerbell. I feel bad, because I haven't sent her a single email. I keep forgetting. But I'll send her one today. I wish that someone would send me an email! I love being online at the same time as everyone else, and I can't really get off right now, 1. Because I'm still doing stuff, 2. Because Alistair Begg is downloading. I really need to put more music on here. I also need to think of something interesting to put on here so that I don't scare off anyone who decides to finally read this. I guess I'll go now.