My one secret.

The light blue sky was moving upwards and the dark night was being pushed into space by the sunlight. Before the night could vanish completely a silver ball of light fell from the night into the morning where it retired forever. How long has that star hung in the sky? Longer than any human alive on this earth has lived. How many people were there to watch it shine one last night? Who knows. But I was there, I saw it. I may or may not have yelled out in the early morning “Look!! It’s a shooting star! Did anyone else see that! That was amazing!!” I was told to be quiet and settle down, I would wake the sleepers.

I thought about the last night I spent in Ireland. It was very special and maybe one of my favorite memories. That night the blanket that was the sky was especially full of holes, light was peering through each tiny hole, and the light doubled in the reflection of the sea. I was above the sea that night, I could see both the sky and its mirror.  I saw a star fall that night.

I thought about a time I sat on a car in the driveway of my favorite home, I sat there with my dear friend Rose and we gazed at the stars. We talked and talked and got colder and colder, then a star fell. We both saw it.

I thought about the time another dear friend Beth and I climbed over a chain link fence late at night on Saint Patricks day-last year. We sat shivering with Susan and talked about Paul and EJ. We saw a shooting star.

I still wish on stars. I always make the same wish. So I take it back, I do have a secret, my wish.



*fling yourself onto the bed and sob uncontrollably*

I am sick and unable to sleep because of homework due on the morrow…At this moment in time I just want to crawl under the bed and die. This time next year. I will be out of school. I will be done with this trial and on to a new one. But whatever it is…it won’t be school…


My Hannah Girl

Empty spot at the foot of my bed.


Scraps of meat thrown in the trash.


Two tin bowls put up on the shelf.


No barking when there is knock on the door.


No using my phone at night when it is dark at night to make sure I don’t step on a tail.


A patch of yard covered in dirt rather than grass.


A collar sitting on the table.


Hannah was the best dog I could have ever asked for. There is way too much to say about her. I will miss her so much. A little bit of my heart was cut when I pet her in the car on the way to the vet. When I held her down as they put her to sleep. When I sang the song Josiah and I used to sing to her when we were little. When I helped dig the hole. When I picked up her body and kissed her head. When I looked at the photos of us when we were little. She was the first living thing I loved to die. This may be dramatic. But you know. Its a big deal to me. I have been trying not to cry for three days. I mean I have been crying. But when I haven’t its not because there were no tears. I love you Hannah Girl. And I don’t care what anyone says. I want to believe that I will see you in heaven. So I do.

Slowly counting down the days

Why are you so far from me?
In my arms is where you ought to be
How long will you make me wait?
I don’t know how much more I can take
I missed you
But I haven’t met you
Oh but I want to
How I do
Slowly counting down the days
Till I finally know your name
Ooo the way your hand feels round my waist
The way you laugh
The way your kisses taste
I missed you
But I haven’t met you
Oh but I want to
How I do, How I do
I’ve missed you
But I haven’t met you
Oh I missed you
I haven’t met you
Oh but I want to
Oh how I want to
Dear whoever you might be
I’m still waiting patiently.

-The Civil Wars

The Highwayman


The Highwayman


THE wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding—
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.


He’d a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,
A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin;
They fitted with never a wrinkle: his boots were up to the thigh!
And he rode with a jewelled twinkle,
His pistol butts a-twinkle,
His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky.


Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard,
And he tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred;
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord’s black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord’s daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.


And dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked
Where Tim the ostler listened; his face was white and peaked;
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,
But he loved the landlord’s daughter,
The landlord’s red-lipped daughter,
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say—


“One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I’m after a prize to-night,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;
Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I’ll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way.”


He rose upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand,
But she loosened her hair i’ the casement! His face burnt like a brand
As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;
And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,
(Oh, sweet, black waves in the moonlight!)
Then he tugged at his rein in the moonliglt, and galloped away to the West.



He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon;
And out o’ the tawny sunset, before the rise o’ the moon,
When the road was a gypsy’s ribbon, looping the purple moor,
A red-coat troop came marching—
King George’s men came matching, up to the old inn-door.


They said no word to the landlord, they drank his ale instead,
But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed;
Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side!
There was death at every window;
And hell at one dark window;
For Bess could see, through her casement, the road that he would ride.


They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest;
They had bound a musket beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!
“Now, keep good watch!” and they kissed her.
She heard the dead man say—
Look for me by moonlight;
Watch for me by moonlight;
I’ll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way!


She twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held good!
She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood!
They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years,
Till, now, on the stroke of midnight,
Cold, on the stroke of midnight,
The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!


The tip of one finger touched it; she strove no more for the rest!
Up, she stood up to attention, with the barrel beneath her breast,
She would not risk their hearing; she would not strive again;
For the road lay bare in the moonlight;
Blank and bare in the moonlight;
And the blood of her veins in the moonlight throbbed to her love’s refrain .


Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hoofs ringing clear;
Tlot-tlot, tlot-tlot, in the distance? Were they deaf that they did not hear?
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,
The highwayman came riding,
Riding, riding!
The red-coats looked to their priming! She stood up, straight and still!


Tlot-tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot-tlot, in the echoing night!
Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!
Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath,
Then her finger moved in the moonlight,
Her musket shattered the moonlight,
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him—with her death.


He turned; he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood
Bowed, with her head o’er the musket, drenched with her own red blood!
Not till the dawn he heard it, his face grew grey to hear
How Bess, the landlord’s daughter,
The landlord’s black-eyed daughter,
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.


Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,
With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high!
Blood-red were his spurs i’ the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat,
When they shot him down on the highway,
Down like a dog on the highway,
And he lay in his blood on the highway, with the bunch of lace at his throat.

Act One Scene 17a

Spot light down stage right where Grace is sitting on a stool very dramatically. The spotlight follows her through the following scene.

Grace: (talking to audience) I need to start making some decisions about my life. I think I want to pursue theater. My questions are: Should I go all out, into debt, work really hard and try to get into a pretty good school or conservatory(as she says this she looks as if trying hard to convince herself that she could do it)? Should I just start auditioning places? Should I double major in ASL and theater (she groans)? Should I go to a school with a theater program and just focus on theater? I just don’t know.

She walks down stage left and picks up her microphone looking at it as if she had never seen it before

I also want to keep music in my life. I love singing. Is that something I could do professionally? I just don’t know.

She sets down mic and walks to center stage

What if I get married, become a stay at home mom, homeschool, teach acting at a co-op, and sing with my 12 kids at talent shows? That doesn’t sound that bad—-(She pauses, smiles, and then lets out a laugh)

I just want to keep theater in my life somehow. You know what I really, really, really wish I could do?  I wish I could go on broadway. (she starts running around dancing a bit) Sing and Act! (She trips over her feet and looks up dismayed) I just don’t know if I can do Musical theater. I never have really tried—and I can’t dance—obviously.

She walks stage right, sits at the same place she started and lets out a sigh

Sorry folks. Just needed to get that out somewhere. I don’t know what is coming in my life but I am glad that I know that God knows. Otherwise, I would freak out!

(Black out)

Ollo Spring?

Remember flowers? Remember mud? How about rain? The smell of worms? Remember butterflies? I do, and I want them back. Spring, anytime you feel like coming…the sooner the better.

Rest in peace Fanny.

This is a tribute to my second favorite pigeon. Why is it always my girls that die? She has been a very unhealthy pigeon ever since I got her in the summer of 2009. She would lay and egg and then not sit on it and be sick. I would bring her into the house (her and Blablabla were the only birds I ever brought into the house) and wash her up and put her in the back room (in a little cage) with a fan and some nice fresh hay. She could never fly at all. She stayed on the ground all the time. She was a wonderful pigeon and I will miss caring for her. She leaves behind her mate, Garth. I will not tell how she died because it is not a very nice story, at all. So rest in peace Fanny!

Fanny in the summer of 2010. Look at her beautiful purple tone.


Don’t read this post

So I am up late. Can’t sleep. Story of my life. A friend is sleeping over so I am sleeping on the futon, which is not comfy at all. I was just laying there thinking about things of no interest to anyone but maybe my dog, and said to myself “Self, go write a blog post.” So here I am.

Tonight I went swing dancing. It was a lot of fun, but far too crowded. My hair got all messy and in my face, but I didn’t really care that much.  Should I care? I don’t know. Does it matter. Not at all. Why am I saying this? I am tired.

I ate some cheese cake when I got home. It was very yummy. I made some toast, and didn’t eat it all. I hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. My fault, I was just lazy and didn’t feel like cooking anything. I forgot to feed my pigeons today. I feel really bad about it but don’t really want to go outside by myself in the dark and in the cold. If you are reading this I am so sorry. You might just want to stop now. It can only go down hill from here.

Sometimes life is hard, sometimes it’s not. I am so glad I know that God is sovereign. It helps a lot, a lot. And I mean a lot. I feel bad for people who don’t know that. How do they get though life? I don’t think I could.

I picked up my books from NCU today. They are new, last year they were used. It’s special.

Wow, I really am sorry. But I guess this is my blog, I am just throwing out my most random thoughts right now, and I guess that is what a blog is sort of for right?

Oh make a wish! Its 1:11! I wished for something. You wish you knew what it was. But not really, because it was lame and will most likely never happen.

I am sorry…again. I should just go. This is a bit awkward. Not to mention boring.

Goodnight moon. This has been a good chat. Because apparently I was talking to the moon that whole time…right….

Swimming in sunlight

I can not sleep. I have tried all sorts of things to make me fall asleep. I got in bed and shut my eyes, I opened them after trying in vain to fall asleep for about a half hour. So I read, I sang softly, I went on facebook, I went back to bed, I looked at the wall, I got up, I looked for scholarships, I went on facebook, I went to a blog, I read the whole thing, I changed the settings on this blog. I tried hard to become sleepy, but alas my efforts were in vain. So I thought I would share my troubles with you dear reader. Thank you for staying up with me this night. Although, most likely you will read this during the day, if you ever read it at all.

Ok sleep, any time now.

Is “Mr. Sandman” the one who brings sleep or is he the one who brings dreams?

Speaking of dreams, this time last night I was sleeping. I had this dream. It was a lovely dream. You may want to hear about it. You may not. If you are at all interested the dream goes as follows:

I was outside in the summer and we were playing Camelot on the shore of a great river. When I say we I mean me and some lovely elf like humans who I have never seen prior to this dream and will most likely never see again. I fell in the river. I braced my self for the cold wetness that I knew would overtake me. But the water wasn’t not wet or cold. It was like swimming in sun light. Warm golden sunlight on a late morning in late May. We swam. We looked at the blue, green, and purple fish. Then we swam into a cave to have tea and cherries. When we make the long journey home we got in trouble for tracking mud all over. But we didn’t mind cleaning it up, because the day was good and we were all ready to go to sleep.

I think I am now ready to fall asleep and to have a new dream. An even better one. Good night world. You are lovely and I am glad to be alive in you.