Wednesday, December 28, 2011
A few days ago, I found a method that has actually worked very well for me. What I do is, instead of using a common name or making one up, I use popular names from other countries.
They work well, because they're different from the American names I am used to, so they have that nice "unique" feel to them.
For example, here are a few of the most popular names for 2011 in a few other countries that sound cool:
Australia: Lachlan (,boy, 7th)
Brazil: Giovanna (girl, 5th), Manuela (girl, 7th), Rafaela (girl, 8th), Miguel (boy, 3rd), Matheus (boy, 5th), Guilherme (boy, 7th), Felipe (boy, 10th)
France: Inès (girl, 5th), Manon (girl, 7th), Enzo (boy, 2nd), Raphaël (boy, 6th), Yanis (boy, 8th)
These are all I'm going to post today, just to give you a hint as to what's out there. I hope this helped you!
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
My family is one that gets very excited about the approach of Christmas. So excited, in fact, that we make up what the days before are. A couple of years ago, my mom came up with the idea that the day before Christmas Eve must be Christmas Adam, because Adam came before Eve.
So now, instead of saying that it is four days until Christmas, we say that it's only two days until Christmas Adam (somehow that makes it feel like Christmas is closer). *Just so you know, tomorrow is Christmas Fish*.
All jokes aside, Christmas is amazing.
Yet, what surprises me most is that the actual day of Christmas is my least favorite part of it. For me, it's the Christmas caroling and Christmas pageants, the cookie baking and time spent shopping with family, picking out and decorating a tree, going to a Christmas Eve service. . . Not all, I'll admit, but most of the things on my list tend to go along with glorifying God.
With Christmas caroling, you get to not only sing songs praising Him, but it's also an amazing opportunity to show God's love to those you sing to. With Christmas pageants, you get to re-tell the story of Christ's birth. With cookie baking, you are taking time aside to spend with your family to make cookies to give away (of course, we all know that not all of them wind up being given to someone ;) ) , time spent shopping normally involves putting others before yourself and picking out something they would like as opposed to just getting something for yourself. Picking out a tree can also be glorifying God--marveling at His creation.
Then, when you go to a Christmas Eve service, you sing classic Christmas songs like Silent Night and Away in a Manger, Come all Ye Faithful. . . You hear the pastor discuss Christ's birth--and though it is a message that a lot of people have heard to many times to count, still leaves the same effect.
Christ--God's Son--coming into this world.
Not because He had to, but because He wanted to. He wanted a way to be closer to His people--He wanted to sanctify them and make them pure.
He came because He loves us.
And, unfortunately, that isn't exactly what I think about on Christmas Day. I think about all of the things I got, I get angry about the things I didn't. I get impatient when at the family events because they are taking too long to get to the gifts.
Then, at the end of the day, I look at the mess my house has become. Wrapping paper everywhere, gifts thrown this way and that, and I let out a sigh.
Gifts will pass away--they will break, get lost, get left somewhere, thrown out, get burnt. . . Because they weren't meant to last forever.
Yet what Christ did for us--that is something that was meant to last forever. Literally.
I would put the Christmas story on this post (Luke 1-2), but it's already getting quite lengthy. . .But I will encourage you to check it out. It's a story thousands of years in the making.
Monday, December 19, 2011
You can choose either of the following pictures:
You can do as many entries as you like--but there is a $5 fee per entry.
After you have chosen your photo, you write the story behind it. It has to be more than 100 words, although it cannot exceed 1,200.
Those under 18 are welcome to enter with parental permission. The deadline is December 31st.
For more information, click on the link above.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
I found that, by changing the perspective, it made it a lot easier to write. In fact, I change it often within each chapter.
It makes it new and exciting. . . Not to mention the fact that it adds a LOT of length.
What makes it easier for you to continue writing?
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Anyway, to the announcement!
The winner is....
Aylin Brandt!! Congratulations!!!
If all of the judges could email me ( firstname.lastname@example.org ), then I'll send you her book.
And, again, Aylin, congratulations! Writing 30,000 words in a month is something to be proud of!
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Monday, November 21, 2011
Monday, November 14, 2011
There are little signs everywhere that Christmas is approaching; stores are posting count-downs on their windows, people are starting their shopping, egg-nog and hot cocoa is appearing on the grocery store shelves. . .It's all so exciting.
This is the spectacular time of year,
When signs of Christmas begin to appear,
Christmas lights aglow,
Grass covered in snow. . . .
I don't know why, but I just felt like adding that in there. For some reason, rhyming helps me write poetry. It makes it easier to come up with the next line, plus it sounds cool when you say it out loud.
So, what about you? What do you like about this time of year?
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Monday, November 7, 2011
I'm up to 6,000 words in my NaNo book! It's so exciting. . .I feel like I'm finally getting somewhere with it. I'm using the one that I had been posting sections of, although I have changed most of it. Here's a piece of what I've written so far:
What do you think? ~Elizabeth
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
It's really a great system. I can put in my word count goal (30,000 words) that I hope to write in the month of November, and can update the amount of words I've written so far. Right now, I'm at 9% ( 2,700 words).
But doing this gave me an idea.
What if there was a blogfest that went on from November 5th--December 5th, where people could gain points in various ways in a random drawing? And what if the winner not only won a picture-award, but also were able to get feedback on their novels from two well-read teenagers?
As you've probably guessed, Leslie and I will be the ones to hold this amazing blogfest, called:
Now, I mentioned a little bit about points above. This is a the point system being used:
For starters, you have to be a follower of this blog and comment on this post to enter. Doing these actions will give you a basic point. You could just stop there, but if you feel like earning some extra points, here are some ways to get them:
1) Put this picture on your blog linking it back to this post--not our blog, this post.
2) Give a shout out for this Blog-Fest in a post.
3) If you're a participant in NaNoWriMo, you get a point.
But, if you do these things, you have to notify us, either by comment or email, to let us know what you've done, or else we might not find out and you won't get your point.
Monday, October 31, 2011
What about you? What do you guys do for it?
Well. . .That's the theme for this week. Halloween.
Write about what you did, or have done. It doesn't have to be something you did this year; if you have this awesome story of something that happened a while ago, feel free to use that, too. Also--we are going to have to make a rule that no real (last) names or locations be used.
We are a Christian blog. We will not post ANY stories that we feel go against our beliefs.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
There is a world beyond the sun. It is inhabited by creations. Everything ever created or made up lives their life in this land. Only a few can see the creations, hovering around their creators until their stories are done and they can travel the road of the sunset. Of these, even fewer can travel the road themselves. One boy, Dylan, was the only one who could travel the sacred road, but he grew up and stopped pretending. One like Dylan is only born every 50 years and the world felt the loss of Dyan sharply, although they did not know it. The next one to be born was a girl corrupted by pride and power. She enslaved the world behind the sun for years. Back on earth, creativity had stopped. Until one dark night when the long awaited child was born...
Now its your turn!
Monday, October 24, 2011
I was sitting on a chair in my apartment that first October out on my own. It still didn't feel like home, even though I had lived there for two months. I had all of my things that had decorated my room at my mom's house placed around the apartment. The two porcelain Chinamen served as bookends on the bookcase. My guitar poster graced the wall by the window. And the ancient rug that I had inherited from my great aunt lay on the wooden floor. I even used the same laundry detergent as my mom had.
I knew that I missed my mom and Karen, my sister, but this place was supposed to be home! Nothing felt familiar. The chair creaked as I got up out of it. I walked to the window and looked out over the park. Three, old maple trees were turning crimson on the tips of the branches. I sighed. It must be apple season, I thought vaguely. Apple season. I tilted my head in thought. That was what I was missing – the feel of the smooth apple skins in my hands when peeling them, the smell of applesauce bubbling on the stove, and the sight of three or four golden apple pies cooling on the rack. I had always loved apple season. Mom, Karen, and I would gather in our large, farm-style kitchen – bushels upon bushels of granny smiths, macintosh, and galas filling all available floor space. We would spend a week peeling, slicing, cooking, and baking them. We would can apple pie filling and applesauce, bake apple pies, and dry apple slices.
I sighed again, at the memory of those happy, autumn afternoons after school, and decided that that was what I needed to do. I needed to buy some apples. I grabbed my purse and counted the money inside. Three dollars and fifty-four cents. Most of my money I had used up to furnish my apartment. I figured I would need sixty dollars or so to by a couple bushels of apples. Sixty dollars. Not much, in the scheme of things, but in my limited budget, it could mean forgoing a couple meals. I looked around my scanty apartment and decided – I needed apples.
I was inspired! I tore across the room and into my bedroom. Rifling through my box of old stuff, I found nothing worth sixty bucks. I strode back to the living room/dining room and surveyed it with a determined eye. And then, I saw it – the dilapidated, old lamp sitting on the end table (or, it at least looked old at that moment, in light of the apples that were to come). I snatched up the ancient relic, marched outside, and walked the three blocks to the pawn shop.
After that, I went to the farmers' market and bought two bushels of apples. I walked contentedly back to my apartment, opened the door, and – gazing lovingly down at the two bushel baskets straining the sinews in my arms – exclaimed, “I'm home!”
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Tell me what you think!~Elizabeth
Monday, October 17, 2011
Apples. Yes, apples.
And speaking of apples, I need help--it turns out that the ones I bought this morning were the one type that my family doesn't like. So. . . I now have a ton of apples that no one's (except me!) going to eat. So. . . What should I do with them? Are there any good recipes you have(or interesting ideas?)???
And, if there are enough options, I will make one of the suggested things and post the results on Wednesday. Just try to keep it simple, though--remember, I am in no way whatsoever a good cook. :)
Saturday, October 15, 2011
She fingered the platinum-blond hair of the old barbie doll. It had been hacked short in third grade. One of its arms had been torn loose by Scruffy, her dog. The sundress that it wore was pale yellow, faded by the sunlight of too many backyard picnics.
Kelly smiled sadly. So many memories – so bittersweet. Something in her yearned for those warm days filled with lemonade and friends. She wanted to reach back to the times of giggling with her sister as their Barbies dressed in ballgowns and danced with Ken. It had been so sweet, so innocent, so unlike Kelly's life now. She started up from the edge of her bed when she heard the front door bang. Jim was home, and Kelly had forgotten to start supper.
Kelly tried to slip into the kitchen so that maybe, just maybe, he might not notice that she had been daydreaming and forgotten her duty again. She winced when she brushed her bruised shoulder against the white wall. Jim did not like it when she forgot things. She hoped he might not be too upset today.
“There you are,” Jim's gruff voice startled her. “Where have you been, woman? You know, I work hard all day and I come home to what? No hello, no supper...”
“I'm sorry. Sorry,” She turned to look timidly up at her husband. His eyes looked glazed from alcohol. It was a look so familiar those days.
“Well, maybe sorry isn't good enough. 'Sorry, sorry, I'll do better.' But it never happens, woman. You never love me like you should,” He took a step toward her with a accusing finger. “Sorry doesn't cut it. For two years – two long years – I have tried to teach you how to behave. Everything I ask is so simple. Every other wife in America could do the simple things I ask.” He slapped her across the face. Kelly stumbled to the side.
“Please, Jim, I'll -”
“Don't whimper at me,” He roared.
Before she knew it, she was on the ground. Pain exploded through her. She crumbled to the linoleum floor with her eyes squeezed shut to try to bottle up the pain.
“Maybe that will teach you,” Jim muttered as he stumbled out of the house. Kelly tried to stand. She lurched toward the phone table and cracked her arm against it. A scream escaped her trembling lips as the pain ricocheted through her bones. Kelly glanced at the front door. She hoped he wouldn't come back for awhile. Picking up the phone and balancing it on her shoulder with her ear pressed to the receiver, she dialed seven numbers. Seven numbers she had wanted to press for two years.
“Mom? Could you... could you please come and take me to the hospital? I think I broke my arm. Maybe you could bring over a box for some of my stuff. I don't think I'll be coming back any time soon. Please hurry.” Kelly hung up the phone and sank to the floor, clutching her bad arm.
Kelly lay recuperating in the bedroom of her childhood. Pink ponies danced across the wallpaper. Her mom had let her pick out the pattern when Kelly was seven. She had loved pink then. Come to think of it, she realized she still did. She looked down at the cast on her arm. It wasn't signed by anyone. All her friends she had left behind to have Jim. He hadn't allowed much time for friendships. She sighed heavily.
Something in a box by the bed caught Kelly's eye. She got up from the bed, bent down, and picked it up. A smile flitted across her face. It was the barbie doll with platinum-blond hair. The doll with a broken arm, yet it smiled bravely all the same. Kelly sat down on the bed and held the Barbie for a long time. Then slowly, with a brave smile, she picked up the phone on the nightstand to call up her best friend.
Friday, October 14, 2011
So. . .First off, Wayne Thomas Batson, Enter the Door Within!
Secondly. . . An awesome devotional blog, Forever His Servant.
And, last but not least . . . Pen in my Hand!
These blogs are great, check them out!!!!
*Due to this, the winning TOTW story will be posted tomorrow*
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
The ones that make me smile and laugh,
Of all of these memories, I cannot keep track,
Without my faithful KODAK
Ok, so it doesn't technically rhyme. . .Oh well.
I love pictures. . .if you haven't already guessed. :)
Monday, October 10, 2011
I absolutely love doing it, and I feel like when I combine myself with the character, there's this harmony that never before existed. I LOVE that feeling.
Acting is a chance to act like someone else, feel like someone else. To BE someone else. Being up on stage. . .It feels amazing. As if I'm living a dream. As if the knights, beasts, and maidens from my dreams have become reality. What about you? How do you feel on stage? Excited? Terrified? All of the above?
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Monday, October 3, 2011
It's seriously an amazing movie, probably the best one by them yet. It makes you cry in some places, yet laughing in others.
Sherwood Pictures seems to get more and more professional by the movie--the acting in this one was twice as good as in all the other movies. It is SERIOUSLY worth checking out!!!!!!~Elizabeth
Saturday, October 1, 2011
She tried not to tremble like a leaf in the wind. He had not shouted yet, had not raised his gravelly voice a decibel, though it was as menacing as a lion's roar. The words were coated in poison. She knew it. And she knew that she must either give in or be crushed yet again.
“It is all we ask, girl. This country is so big – has so many opportunities for a beautiful girl like you, yet you choose to rot away in prison. We do not want this. You must want this, though, for we have given you chance after chance to leave. We tire of asking, of giving the same offer that is denied time and time again,” He paused to let it sink in. “So I offer you one more time. Denounce this Jesus, and we promise to let you go. If not – you die.” Until now, she had stared straight ahead at the steel-gray buttons on the man's uniform. Now she raised them to look squarely into the man's icy, blue eyes. She willed her voice not to shake.
“I will never deny my Savior. Do to me what you will, I will always love Jesus.”
“Well, if you want to die – it's your choice,” He said.
“I gladly die for the glory of the One Who died for my eternal life.” The man turned, and barked something to a guard at the cell door, who let the man out and slammed the door behind him.
The girl sank to the dirt of her cell. She repeated the words of a Psalm she remembered the old minister having said. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me...” She knelt quietly moving her lips in prayer for an hour.
The sudden noise of the door to her cell being opened caused her to stir. A guard entered and grabbed her roughly by her arm. He jerked her out of her cell, down a long, dim corridor, and out into the dark night. A line of prisoners stood in front of a pit. Soldiers who had rifles pointed at them stood beyond it. Some of the prisoners wept openly. They screamed for mercy. Others stood in stoic silence without a trace of fear in their eyes. The girl took her place beside a young child who looked up at her and smiled. His eyes shone with peace. A peace that she hoped she mirrored as perfectly.
The captain gave the signal and the rifles' report echoed through the dusty hills. The girl felt a piercing pain as she collapsed into the pit. The next thing she knew were the arms of Jesus.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Paul of Samosata was one of the most corrupt men in the history of the christian church. He not only was corrupt in his heart, but he lead many others to be corrupt in Christ.
I do believe that Paul of Samosata is deserving of condemnation.
Paul of Samosata was not raised in a proper way, that is, he was not given a job or a apprenticeship from his family. He was of humble birth and this gave him the thirst for wealth that gave rise to the evil that he spread. He was not given a skill to work honestly at, so he fell to perverting the church where he was working.
Of his education, we know very little, except that he was of humble birth and so probably didn't receive a good education. He also learned nothing of any form of handiwork or common labor.
As to his works, his churches were filled with heresy. He instructed the women to sing hymns only to himself. He stopped all production of hymns except for the ones about himself. He also took bribes for help for the injured and those who were being perused by tax collectors and then turned on them and insisted they give him more money. As the final blow, he allowed himself and his church leaders "spiritual brides", women that lived with him and traveled with him. They were not married to him.
Compared to Simon Magus, Paul seems to be even more of a threat to the people. For even though Simon tried to buy the powers of Christ from Peter, he at least believed in the sovereignty of Jesus. Paul didn't even believe that Jesus was divine. He constantly lived in the most extreme sin. His teachings spread to many people and corrupted many church leaders.
I pray that none of you will follow the example of this charlatan. His work has already corrupted many. Do not follow in his footsteps and teach falsely, take bribes or exploit the poor. Hold yourself to a higher standard than this man of God corrupted.
Please give me any input on this. Thanks!
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
To view the post on it on Emily White's blog, click here.
To view the post on it on Kate Kaynak's blog (Emily's editor), click here.
This really is a great opportunity, definitely worth looking into.~Elizabeth
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Monday, September 26, 2011
The Awards page is officially up, so we are now accepting nominations. Nominate away!!!
There's already two blogs that have accepted our award offer:
This is a blog that really inspires me:
Hannah, the blogger, doesn't just sponsor one child through Compassion. No, she sponsors/corresponds with TEN. And she's only sixteen.
Dianne Gardner is an aspiring, un-published author. I actually had the privilege of reading/offering feedback on her book (which is amazing, by the way), and she's really an amazing author.
These are seriously some blogs you should check out!!!~Elizabeth
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Yesterday I had to make some cookies to bring to a class I'm going to, and I had everything right. Just right. Nothing was going wrong. I would actually have made a decent dish. Until I pulled them out of the oven. . . :
Well, to move onto the other subject. . .
I want to discuss something with you that has engulfed a decent amount of my time in the past few months:
Does this book have a meaning? Is my theory correct, or is there no intended agenda in the book whatsoever? Did this person let their beliefs influence this book? Is this book modled by the author themself?
See??? These are just some of my questions--and they're only the ones I have for books! So today, I'm going to discuss a few books that I think have an inner meaning:
The Hunger Games Series: The inner meaning in this is simple--the most unlikely people can make a huge change, and that war truly effects, not only children, but everyone.
The Inheritance Series: Once again--someone who grew up with a very humble life became something amazing, living a life he had never dreamed of. I can tell that CP tries to push animal values, as all of the elves are vegeterian (which tends to get slightly annoying after a bit), and the main character is scared to death of killing people, which is ironic, since he should be a fearless dragon rider.
Elemental: Everything happens for a purpose.
Monday, September 19, 2011
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Monday, September 12, 2011
Summery: Katniss is just a normal, sixteen year old girl. Well, sort of.
She happens to live in the 12th district of an area called Panem that used to be known as North America. Oh yeah, she also has to hunt illegally to feed her family after her father died and her mom went crazy.It's either that or let them starve. Not average to our standards, but if you were to compare her to everyone else in Panem, she's just another girl trying to survive.
Then one day, everything changed for her. Her sister, twelve-year-old-Prim, had her name drawn to be District 12's female tribute for The Hunger Games, the Capitol's way of making sure people are aware that they are in control. No exceptions.
Basically, everyone between the ages of twelve and eighteen has to have their name entered in for The Hunger Games, and there are two chosen from each district--one male, one female. Except, of course, if you want to enter your name more than once. Each extra entry gives a year's supply of grain and oil for one person. Katniss' was entered over twenty times that year.
Katniss knew what they were like; everyone in Panem was forced to watch the televised Hunger Games each year.
There was no way she would let her little sister go through that.
So, Katniss pushed Prim aside and took her place. Then. . .The male tribute was chosen.
Peeta. The boy with the bread.
Peeta had given her family two loaves of bread a long time ago--that bread gave them enough nourishment to survive. She owed her life to him, and now she was going to have to be in an arena where she was expected to kill Peeta. Katniss began to think about the games as she rode to the capitol in a train ten times nicer than her own house, I'm about to die. I am. But I must stand strong, for Prim. For Gale. She pushed all thoughts of Gale outside of her head; he was a friend that she had hunted with for a few years, nothing more. I'm so puny and weak, how am I supposed to kill twenty-three youth I don't even know?? Could I come to the point where I turn into such a beast that I do kill people???
Katniss thought about it. The capitol does The Hunger Games each year to show the districts that the capitol has power over them. That they can do nothing against them when they steal two of their young ones to place in an arena where you must live off the land for a few weeks. And kill, let's not forget about that. See, only the last person standing in the arena can actually go home. Everyone else either gets killed or dies of "natural" causes.
As soon as she arrives, she gets bombarded by stylists making her look inhuman for the televised showing of all of the contestants. She is told to always stay right next to Peeta--to appear as his best friend. His girlfriend.
Without Katniss' input, it appears that their way of getting sponsors for this is by acting completely in love.
"Think about it," Says Haymitch, their mentor, "It's a tragic love story. Only one of you can win. Trust me, sweetheart."
But little does Katniss know, Peeta really is in love with her. And they've just been thrown into the arena.
Violence/Romance: Ok, so obviously this book has a decent amount of violence in it. For some readers, it may be a little more than they would care for. I personally like it, but it depends on the reader. As far as romance. . .Many kissing scenes do occur between Peeta and Katniss, although they aren't described in great detail. Katniss has to act in love with him, although she finds it becoming more and more real the further they go. Peeta, on the other hand, is extremely in love with her, and has been since they were five.
Spirituality: There's really no religion/spirituality in it whatsoever.
What I liked: First off--this book is AMAZING!!!!! Probably the best I've ever read. The character development is awesome, and the way it's written is so good, I literally coundn't stop reading. It's not predictable, either; there are many things that you would never think would take place.
Katniss is very protective over her sister, and it's nice seeing the affection that's there. In general, Katniss is a very affectionate person, you can really see that she's has a loving bond with the characters--therefore you have a loving bond with them. Peeta is a great character, and again, generally cares about Katniss' welfare. I liked how the book showed that the people (some of them, anyway) didn't like killing, and wanted to remain. . .well. . .human.
What I didn't like: I didn't like how Katniss seemed to be a little immodest at times--she is recorded as--not in any detail whatsoever--being completely stripped when the stylists design her outfit, and stripped down to but her undergarments to bathe one day--even though she knew that she was being seen by all Panem. There are a few h--l's thrown in there, but other than that, no swearing.
This book is really good, you should check it out!~Elizabeth
Friday, September 9, 2011
l' Rufus died today. You don't know how much I loved that dog. I had him for twenty-three years. I don't know how old he was when I got him. He was a mess of trouble back then, I'll tell ya, and he still would be if Death hadn't called Ol' Rufus' name. I remember how we met, all those years ago. Do you mind if I tell you?
I had walked into that little diner on the corner of Main and 5th Street – you know the one. It's old and run down now, but back then it was a shiny, brand-new place. It had pink walls inside and a black and white checkerboard floor. There was a big, old clock behind the counter with neon numbers. But that's all beside the point. Forgive me for reminiscing - I don't want to bore you too much.
Anyways, I walked in there that Saturday morning for a cup of black coffee and a fried egg. The door jangled and little Tammy Sue looked up and smiled at me from behind the counter. She was always there early on Saturday mornings. I sidled up to the counter and ordered my food. While I was waiting for Tammy Sue to fry my eggs, I whistled along to a tune playing on the jukebox.
Pretty soon, my food was done cooking, and I began to eat it. The door jingled and an old man and woman walked in. They sat down in a booth in the corner and Tammy Sue got their order. I hadn't but hardly finished my coffee when the door burst open again – the bell just a-clanging and rattling up a storm. I spun around on my stool to see a ugly, yellow mutt bounding through the door and tearing off for the kitchen. He ripped right past Tammy Sue and the cook who had just come in a moment before. The cook, I forgot her name, let out a holler like you wouldn't believe. Her pan full of oatmeal went flying through the air like a flying saucer, landed on the linoleum, and spun around and around until it finally settled on a black square on the floor. The oatmeal, on the other hand, had long since left the pan and dripped from the clock on the wall.
The dog didn't stop, even with the cook screaming at him. He kept running right through the kitchen, then back around toward Tammy Sue. He upset three cups of coffee and a muffin as he jostled around the counter. Then he landed right next to me. He just sat down and looked up at me with doleful eyes and cocked his head to one side.
“Is that foul beast your, Jim?” The cook screeched, her voice rising even higher than before. “Cause, I am gonna knock his brains out – just look at what he did to the diner!” I did look around then. The elderly couple had somehow climbed up on top of their seats, which was quite a feat for their age. The curtain on the bottom half of the door was torn from the brass rod. The pan had dinged up the floor and I noticed that the oatmeal had dripped mostly into a coffeepot. I looked at the cook. Her face was beet red and it was like steam was coming out of her ears. And then I looked down at the dog that was panting at my feet. Just a miserable, no-good critter like you've never seen.
“Yeah, he's mine,” I said quietly. “He's mine.” The cook screeched again and she came a-tearing at the dog and me. Well, I jumped up off of my stool and hightailed it out to my truck. I jumped in and the dog leaped in after me.
And, well that was that. That old dog stayed with me forever after that. I don't know whose he was originally, but apparently nobody wanted him, cause no one put an ad in the paper for him or nothing. I think he kinda always was my dog. It just took us a while to find each other – you know what I mean?
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Monday, September 5, 2011
Well, I've never posted any of my photography on here before, so I want to change that. Here are a few of my favorite Summer pics:
Friday, September 2, 2011
People make mistakes that hurt life
Some ruin their own chances at
Life. They use drugs or mind-numbing alcohol or
They commit suicide. They
Ruin their chance for a beautiful, fulfilling
That God gave them to live
Out to an amazing fullness in Him.
Other people commit homicide
They ruin other people’s chances at
They may ruin a child’s life or
An adult’s life or even an innocent, unborn baby’s life.
That is terrible, gut wrenching
The person may get caught when they
Murder, but often
They get away with it. That is
No one seems to mind when
A baby - a beautiful, perfect
Gem of life-
Dies because no one wants
To take the responsibility of a little life.
They need to know that they are still
They are responsible for a child’s
I would rather be responsible for a
Life than a death.
Don’t ruin your life,
Don’t ruin someone else’s life
Someone no one will
And who can’t fight for themselves.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Due to being home-schooled, I had truly forgotten (to an extent) how truly anti-Christ even the people around me are. I had a crude awakening:
My mom and I had went to see a movie a few months back. It had been out for a while, so there were only about ten people there, us included. There were mostly young couples, although there were some friends there as well. It was then that we saw the trailer for Courageous. I thought that it looked good, and was quite surprised and happy over the fact that a Christian movie was among the five or so that they showed trailers for--granted, they made up for it with some of the other trailers, but still.
So, as I'm thinking these things, a guy behind us whispered to his girlfriend some very derogatory things about the makers of this movie, Christians in general, and even God Himself--things so bad I will not be posting them here.
What on earth is wrong with our world?!?! It really sickens me sometimes. . .Just the thought that people are honestly using words like that to describe anything--let alone God--infuriates me.
But, anyway, be sure to check this movie out--they really as much support as possible so that they can keep delivering amazing movies! Here are a few links you may want to check out:
Click here to view the website for Sherwood Baptist Church.
Click here to view website for Sherwood Pictures.
Click here to view the website for Courageous.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Non working mother
a little pregnant
a clean boy
a civil war (civil meaning nice)
a dull roar
my worst favorite
and my favorite, THIS PAGE INTENTIONALLY LEFT BLANK
What oxymorons do you like?
Monday, August 29, 2011
What do you like in a book/movie? What are you honestly sick of?
What makes you keep turning the pages?
Do you want to be able to relate to the character, or do you want him/her to be what you wish you are, so that they can inspire you?
What is, in your mind, the perfect book?
Should action scenes be gruesome, or somewhat clean? Romance, yes or no? Detail, or to the point?
This is one of those posts where I expect EVERYONE to comment, because I really want to know what other readers look for.
By the way, the tie that you guys gave me for the "Names" Poll only made my mind scramble around more. I'm adding two new names to the mix, so please go over and vote!~Elizabeth
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Matthew 8:19-20: “Again, truly I tell you that if two of you on earth agree about anything they ask for, it will be done for them by my Father in heaven. For where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them." "
Please, take a few moments now to pray for these people--not only the residents of NYC, but also everyone that will be hit with the storm. Pray that not only, if it is His will, that God would protect them, but also pray that those who do get hurt--physically or emotionally--and robbed may be comforted by Him. Pray also that God may use this time of chaos to draw people closer to Him.