Airpaints

I evidently like an appreciative audience.

2011-12-05T21:33:00.001-07:00

I was babysitting a couple weeks ago and was being a much bigger ham than I often am... you know, dancing and singing to make the toddler laugh, making up very strange word problems (full of word play, naturally) on the spot to get the first grader to finish her math homework, and writing (out loud) for them. (By that I mean that I was saying the words and then writing them.) They liked my story, even though they really had no idea what was going on. The toddler especially enjoyed the whole thing. She seemed to think it was a big joke:

Me: This time, COMMA,
Toddler: *laugh*
Me: she started
Toddler: *laugh*
Me: by turning her cousin's hair
Toddler: *laugh*
Me: green, PERIOD.
Toddler: *laugh*

You get the idea. We went on like that for a while, too.

On a side note, reading the Mercer Mayer book upside down the third time I was asked to read it was a nice change.

The Island in the Middle of the Afternoon

2011-11-15T20:49:00.001-07:00

Well, folks, I am pleased to announce my new website:
The Island in the Middle of the Afternoon !!!

Can you tell I'm excited about it? It is my "official" writer website, including all sorts of strange fairy tales, a bloglet for all of those strange little thoughts I never had anywhere to put before, and even some poetry. Oh, and an imaginary rejection letter (from an imaginary publisher) that my friend Heather seems to like a good deal...

Love, Mariah :)

Happy Autumn!

2011-10-20T19:25:00.001-06:00

Slideshow generated with Smilebox

Dreaming of family gatherings :)

2011-06-02T22:34:00.003-06:00

I had a dream the other night that reminded me how much I'm looking forward to the upcoming family reunion. :-)

It felt rather Alice-in-Wonderland-ish. (Actually, I'm pretty sure the Cheshire cat made his way into the dream somehow. Or at least, he almost did.) I don't remember the beginning of it, but I do remember that sometime after the Cheshire cat, I was with Pamela, and these two little boys came up to us and told me that if I ever wanted to see my uncle again, I needed to go with them. I didn't feel too concerned, so I asked Pam if I should go with them, and she either said, "sure," or "I think you'd better go" (or something along those lines).

So I followed them, which involved going along on this big play structure (like at a park), which ended with rope that was trying to be monkey bars, or something like that. Then they took me into a really big playhouse. (The rooms were small--a good size for kids--but there were lots and lots of them, as I discovered later when I realized I no longer knew the way out... even though it was really easy to get in. Such is the nature of dreams.)

The room they took me to was somewhere in the back of the ~~playhouse~~ playmansion, I think. It was painted plain white, with a wide open doorway or two leading to other rooms. I think there was straw on the floor. The room was probably about the size of grandma and grandpa's kitchen, with a lower ceiling.

There were a number of people there, kids and grown-ups. I was evidently there for Jerry, but he wasn't the only man who was held hostage there. Jeff was there too (which I remember because he made a face at me), so I was kinda doubling to get him out, as well. We didn't get to leave right away, but just sat around. I think we were waiting for more people to get there for the other hostages.

While we were waiting, I noticed my third-cousin, Tyrie (from the other side of the family), on the far side of the room. At first, he had his wife (who has brown hair) with him, until she kind of morphed into a blonde lady with a similar hairstyle. Tyrie, like everyone else, seemed very unconcerned about being held hostage--even though we were all going along with it and were acting like we were truly held prisoners. I think I was getting a little tired of waiting (although I still wasn't worried at all), and so I started looking out of the open doorways and noticed how many rooms there were. I decided to just wait, instead of trying to find my way out.

This was about the time that I woke up, so I never got to find out what those boys had wanted in the first place. Bummer. I'm still really, really curious about that, two days later.

I think I should write down my dreams more often. ;) It would be fun to see who appears most often in my dreams.

Places I find myself in my daydreams:

2011-05-14T00:10:00.002-06:00

1) In a house of my own, where I can draw or paint whatever I want on the walls!

2) In a forest, instead of in a city.

3) At home with my family, spending time with my baby sister! (And the rest of my family, of course.)

4) In my neighborhood back home wandering the forest and going down by the creek with my siblings, or watching the deer, frogs, birds, and other wildlife in our yard.

5) In a garden of my own. :-)

6) Up a tree that is outside of an apartment I used to live in, people watching.

7) Up another tree (two of them, actually—but not at the same time) in front of the house we lived in when I was a kid.

8) Inside a room full of pillows, blankets and stuffed animals and with lots of books to read and a little kid to read to/snuggle with (preferably my own offspring--but I need a husband first to have one of those; if no offspring were available, a sibling or cousin would work).

9) At my grandparents' cabin, in the "fort" us girls used to play in (which didn't have as much cool junk as the boys' fort did, but that's OK; I still like ours better).

10) Also at my grandparents' cabin, swinging on the rope swing over the edge of the hill with the meadow curving down below me, with a nice view of the stream.

11) Staying at my other grandparents' house with all our relatives over (especially the kids!) and playing inside with the old toys and outside in the dirt.

12) Inside a (Mormon) temple, getting married for time and all eternity. :-)

13) At my best friend’s house, playing Lego’s with him.

14) Back in the juvenile section of my favorite library (which, unfortunately, is in a different state than I am right now).

15) In the children’s section of the library they used to have here before they tore it down and built a different one.

16) Anywhere where I won’t get strange looks for wearing war paint and outlandish clothes.

17) Back in my favorite college apartment with the best roommates--Addie, Leah, and Wex. Ralph is shuddering inside--just past Gladys--the paper fireplace is on the wall, and the Tape Person is outside. I especially see me just outside the door, on the third floor looking down at everyone walking past, and singing with Wex while she’s playing her guitar.

18) In someone’s lap, like my mom or dad’s, with me a little kid again.

19) In a big room full of instruments that I can play/experiment with. There would be instruments I’m already familiar with (like the organ) as well as instruments that I’d like to try (like the xylophone, celesta, or koto).

20) Back in the aquarium of the Toledo Zoo, watching the jellyfish.

21) Oz.

22) Narnia.

Double Tasking...

2011-01-08T11:25:00.000-07:00

I've been having fun watching my 11-month-old sister. She is super cute. She likes to imitate sounds and make faces. Surprisingly, even though I'm holding her as I write this, she hasn't tried to help me type--yet. Susanna likes to play the piano, and sometimes when Mom is running errands and I'm watching Susie, she'll play the piano with me. Which leads to some interesting double tasking. She can stand well enough now that she can reach the piano from the floor, so sometimes she just'
;?:":{/{:":{:{{{{{{{[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[
[=)
[[==[[ (time out while \\Susie pushe\s\buttons. Charlotte is getting Susie's keyboard to distract her.)=-=(Thank you, Charlotte!)

...so sometimes she just pounds on the keys at either end of the piano keyboard and keeps me from using those notes. This has been known to lead to me sitting sideways on the bench while I pay because she started playing before I did. Or sometimes she sits on the bench with me, which means that all sheet music is put out of her reach and I either play by memory or by ear. This also means that she gets the middle of the keyboard and I get whatever she lets me play... And sometimes this also means trying to play both hands with one hand--which can be tricky if I'm playing by memory, since it's my hands that are remembering what it feels like to play that song...

Anyway, I guess I'm done. Susanna's getting impatient with me.\]=p=0o cbvbvvvvvvvvg bngvnbv nb v nvcccf n cf bhjbc n. She is responsible for any typos in this post, by the way.

Two (Very) Short Lists:

2010-11-08T15:32:00.000-07:00

Things I want to do someday:

Paint a mural on a wall inside my house (as soon as I'm no longer renting a place)
Scream (Odd, perhaps... but I haven't been able to scream since I was really, really little, and it would release all sorts of pressure)

Things that make me happy:

Hearing my brother Nathaniel speak Welsh to our baby sister. :-D

The List: a commentary on current apartment conditions

2010-09-29T19:38:00.001-06:00

FICTIONAL CHARACTERS

Waldo's List:

Wears red and white stripes
Likes to travel
Likes to wander around in crowds
Doesn't mind being followed around by crooks, dogs, and wizards

The Beast's List:

Is beautiful
Falls in love with me

Lasaraleen's List:

Has lots of money

STEREOTYPED CHARACTERS

BYU Girl's List:

Returned missionary
Worthy
(Now that that's out of the way):
Tall
Ridiculously handsome
Reads my mind
Only pays attention to my tight clothes, and not to anyone else's
Wants lots of kids
Is never awkward
Is not shallow
Thinks I'm pretty when I'm wearing makeup (is not obligated to think I'm pretty without it)
Has a good major so that he'll make lots of money some day

BYU Boy's List:

Worthy
(Now that that's out of the way):
Within three years younger than me
Shorter than me
Wants lots of kids
Willing to be a stay-at-home mom
Smart, but not too smart, because that's intimidating
Doesn't expect me to read her mind
Pretty... oh, yeah!
Is not shallow
Thinks I'm nature's last say in good looks
Is a good cook

Teenage Girl's List:

Tall, dark, handsome
Sweet
*Insert words that Mariah doesn't use here*
Smart
Handsome
Popular
Athletic
Superhuman strength
Handsome
Surfer
Cool
Handsome
*Continues in this manner for some time*

Wait, does he have a list about me?!!!

Kirtland Trip

2010-09-11T21:18:00.000-06:00

Image via Wikipedia

I've been meaning to write about our family trip for this summer, and now I'm finally doing it.

(When I'm supposed to be doing homework. My roommate and I have a deal that when we're both done with homework for the night, we're going to watch a movie...)

Anyway, Kirtland is a town in Ohio where the early Mormons settled and built their first temple (shown to the right). I have ancestors who lived there--one who only lived a couple of houses away from the Temple. It was neat to be able to be in places that I had learned so much about.

It was our first trip with the whole family since Susanna was born, and although she got to be very, very tired of the car (Kirtland is about 3.5 hours away from us), she seemed to really enjoy looking at everything there.

I don't have time to properly describe our trip, so I'll quote Mom's email about it. I hope I don't confuse you too much, Spencer... this really doesn't give you much background information, since it was written to the family.

The first week of August we took a trip to Kirtland. We live about 3.5 hours away, and it was a nice drive. We first went to the John Johnson Farm in Hiram, Ohio. Hiram is actually a bit away from Kirtland, I always imagined it was closer. That was a really neat place to see the house and hear the history of the area. While in Hiram, we drove down the road to where Lorenzo and Eliza Snow lived. That house is not owned by the church, but the man that lives there was in the yard, and we stopped to read the historical marker there. The man was very friendly and took us on a tour of his home. He even read to us from a book written by Eliza R. Snow that told about some things that had happened in their home. We also were able to drive by an old red brick home where the mob were drinking and organized themselves to tar and feather Joseph Smith. Other things we saw were a church where Sidney Rigdon had done some preaching and Symonds Ryder's gravestone. (He was the man who quit the church because Joseph had misspelled Ryder. There were other reasons as well, but it is interesting that there is a misspelled word, desciple, on his gravestone.) We drove a bit further on and went to Nelson Ledges State Park. It was a really beautiful area with neat places to hike around. I wish we had had longer to stay there, and also I wish we brought extra shoes. :)

The next day we went to Kirtland. We had a fun drive going there through the little towns and some Amish country. We loved seeing Kirtland. The temple is so beautiful and the tour through the homes was really nice. Susanna spit up on the floor of the upstairs room of the Johnson store where the School of the Prophets met. That is where Emma had to clean up all of the tobacco that was spit there. There is a computer there where you can type in names of ancestors who lived in Kirtland. They give some information about them as well as where their property was in the area. I had a few ancestors who had been in the Kirtland area. We found out that Heman Hyde had property very close to the temple. (Just a few houses away.) We also found the area where Cyril Call had property. Cyril Call also had some property a little further east. We did not see it, but Nathaniel looked it up online, and we found that I-90 now runs through it. Harriet and Isaac Decker had property south of Kirtland a ways. We wish we knew where it was on the first of our trip, when we were closer to that area. But we can save that for another trip. We also saw the quarry that was used for the Kirtland Temple. It is a pretty area.

All in all, it was a really good trip. Nathaniel and Isaac will be studying Doctrine and Covenants and Church History this year in seminary, and I think more of the history will come alive for them.

Return of the Katmobile

2010-03-27T14:22:00.001-06:00

Our ward had a pinewood derby yesterday. This is the car I made (yes, I carved it, all by myself, with just me and a knife). It's the Katmobile, in memory of Jordan. It refers to the 2003 birthday animation he made for Katrina. Happy early birthday, Katrina.

To see the video, click here. The Katwoman video starts about halfway through the video. (If you open the video in the ZevranPlayer, it might not play. If it doesn't, go to the "Save movie to computer" link.)

Seems so long...

2010-02-19T17:49:00.000-07:00

It has been way too long since we last had a baby in the family. Holding Baby Susanna this weekend, I realized that I had forgotten how it felt to hold a newborn. Not that I hadn't held plenty of other people's babies recently. I guess it's different when the baby is a sister, instead of a cousin's daughter.

She is so tiny and beautiful! She is absolutely beautiful. Call her "cute" if you'd like, but that word just does not have the depth and richness to describe her beauty.

Her tiny fingers and hands and mouth and face, her smile, her purity and utter innocence, her charmingly perplexed expression, even when she twists up her face when she is about to cry and looks like Yoda.

And to see some of me in her--well, it's hard to describe, but it's similar to how I felt in October, seeing Amy after she arrived in Utah before we flew out to see Jordan, just seeing her for the first time in a couple of years. Yeah, I know we are cousins, but it almost startled me to see the look(?) about her face, her mouth, her eyes, that somehow reminded me of me. Same thing with Susanna, except that sort of feeling was even stronger.

It felt so wonderful to hold a newborn again. She will be bigger the next time I see her, when I go home for the summer at the end of the semester. She won't be a newborn any more. But I'll be happy if she'll still fall asleep in my arms, if I can calm her by singing a lullaby.

I want to be home.

To Two Little Sisters

2010-02-15T19:05:00.002-07:00

*** Tick, tock, tick, tock.
Time passes

**a second at a time,

******then minute by minute,

*************day by day,

******************year by year.

^^^^^^^You were once

^^^^^^^tiny in my arms,

^^^^^^^but now you hold an infant

^^^^^^^so clumsily.

^^^^^^^She's your baby sister.
^^^^^^^Do you like her?
^^^^^^^Shall we keep her

^^^^^^^I see you smile.

Time can be so fast,

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^years speeding by.

^^^^But sometimes it is only

^^^^^^^^^^^^^a day at a time,

^^^^^^^a minute at a time,

^^one precious second, treasured forever.
Tick, tock, tick, tock.

* I wrote this before I met Susanna, as I imagined Charlotte holding her baby sister. :)

Isn't she beautiful?

Singles' Awareness Day

2010-02-15T18:00:00.001-07:00

(Sorry... you're gonna have to click on the comic to read the whole thing...)

Yeah, I understand, Charlie Brown... that's what Valentine's Day can be like at BYU...

I'm sooo glad I spent Valentine's Day in Michigan this year!

Christmas Project

2010-01-12T19:54:00.008-07:00

Wow. I can't believe that we made this!

Yup. Dad and I started building this clock as a Christmas present for my parents. (Part of Dad's present was the time we spent together doing this.) We didn't quite finish in time for Christmas, and eventually more of the family joined in with us (sanding around the kitchen table on New Year's Eve while telling memories about Jordan was certainly enjoyable). Mom got to make the final decision about the stain.

Actually, they finished putting it together and stained it after I was gone. :( Oh well... we almost finished it while I was at home! Silly school...

It has a music box in the bottom part of the case (the tune is "How Great Thou Art"), and the top is a lid that opens up to a little storage compartment that goes down to about halfway through the clock.

Definitely a neat thing to be able to do as a family! I really enjoyed spending this time with my dad (and I always love wandering around Home Depot with him, anyway) and the rest of my family.

I still can't believe that it looks so amazing!

On Perspectives and Trials

2010-01-11T17:17:00.004-07:00

I've been thinking today of one of my cousins. He's several years older than me, and has different ideas about religion than I do.

It's interesting, because when my brother died in October, this cousin told his mom (my aunt) that now he knows that God doesn't exist, because Jordan wasn't healed, even though we had prayed for him.

Funny. It's the same set of experiences that convince me, more firmly than ever before (not that I ever doubted, mind), that God does exist.

I have seen miracles. They just aren't the obvious ones that we wanted. That doesn't make them any less real--just, perhaps, less provable by scientific/non-religious means. I don't need that sort of proof, though, because I know that God exists, that He loves us, that my brother's death was no chance happening.

My brother has not left my side since he passed away. The hardest time was the couple of days between when I was with him, saying good-bye, and his death, because that was the last time I felt his absence. I have not felt that sort of emptiness since.

Hm....

2009-12-17T00:03:00.001-07:00

There have been a lot of family injuries and such lately. I was telling my friend James about them, and he asked if someone broke a mirror.

I didn't. Did you?...

Gladys, Take Two

2009-12-15T12:29:00.001-07:00

As submitted to a writing contest, this is a retelling of Gladys:

Clclclclcl!

“Hi, Ralph!” I responded cheerfully. My roommates and I had long ago become fond of our fridge’s periodic rattling. We joked that Ralph was our guard fridge, ready to scare any burglars away. However, we had yet to discover how true this really was.

“Ralph, dear,” called out a creaky, yet sweet, voice that I had never heard before, “you know how it startles me when you bark out all of a sudden like that!”

I looked around, perplexed. Was someone hiding inside Gladys? I opened the door to the coat closet that was her west side. No one there. No one was hiding behind her, next to the shelves on her south side, either, and no one would fit inside the pantry on her east side.

“Gladys? Was that you?” I called out in disbelief. After all, she was just a great big block with doors and shelves, separating the kitchen from the front room.

“Oh, dear! I wasn’t supposed to talk while people were around.”

Ralph hummed cheerfully, as fridges will, as if to say, “You know very well that you did that on purpose.”

“Oh, all right, Ralph, dear. I admit it. I’m just so tired of sitting here, day after day, without anyone knowing my story.” Then, addressing me, “You don’t mind listening, do you, dear?”

I was not always part of your apartment (Gladys began). It is only through an enchantment of a jealous fairy that I am here. I am, in truth, not a princess, no, nor a fairy, nor a banished goddess—but a goose girl.

One morning, I was idly playing with a twig as I watched my 23 geese, just as I did every day. Ralph, who was then my dog, not your fridge, was making sure that they behaved themselves. I had just sighed and wished, yet again, for a more exciting existence, when I heard a rustle at my side. It was my fairy godmother.

I smiled up at her and nestled down at her feet, for I was, I fancy, a rather charming little girl at the time.

I wiggled in my chair as Gladys told her story. It sounded like this was going to take a while. Why can’t these enchanted goose girls learn to tell a story straight through, for once?

My fairy godmother smiled in return (Gladys continued, after coughing sharply at her not-completely-attentive listener). But it was a sad smile, so immediately I sat up.

“Whatever could be the matter?” I asked, dropping my twig on the ground beside me.

“I have bad news for you, child,” Fairy Godmother sighed. “Do you remember Arietta, my evil twin?” I nodded, for I clearly remembered Arietta’s cross face and domineering ways, as I had met her the year before at a wedding reception. “Well,” my fairy godmother continued, “she has become jealous because you’re sweeter than her goddaughter—so she has placed a curse on you.”

I gasped (and Gladys proceeded to demonstrate), not feeling quite satisfied with the excitement that was rapidly taking over my usually-dull existence. I immediately wished that I could be idly watching my geese again, instead of living an adventurous life.

Fairy Godmother continued, “Well, Arietta has declared that before you reach your twentieth birthday, you will prick your finger on a twig and die.”

I think that at this point I turned rather pale, but being a poor goose girl who did not even own a mirror, I can’t be sure. I implored, “But isn’t there anything you can do about my curse?”

“Well, um…” Here Fairy Godmother began sheepishly looking everywhere but at me and rubbed her right foot on her left leg. A sheepish fairy is a pretty impressive sight, by the way. I would highly recommend meeting one some time. Anyway, she continued, “I’m afraid that my solution isn’t quite as romantic as some, but you see, a goose girl pricking her finger on a twig isn’t nearly as appealing to fairytale lovers as… as a princess pricking her finger on a spindle. The fact of the matter is that the fairy queen won’t cut me much slack. So one hundred years of enchanted sleep broken by a kiss… isn’t allowed.” I was growing rather tired by Fairy Godmother’s choppy excuse by now. “Instead, you will turn into a handy, well, not very attractive, rather big block… you will serve as coat closet, pantry, and bookshelves in an apartment. The spell will be broken when fifty people have learned of your spell, or when the apartment complex is torn down. Whichever comes first.”

For some time now, Ralph had been looking up at my fairy godmother, with a pleading look in his big, brown dog eyes. She finished her announcement, glanced down at him, and added, “Oh, and I was forgetting… Ralph will turn into a fridge, so he can watch over you. I’ll take care of the geese and return them to you, good as ever, when the spell is broken.”

Naturally I was far from being thrilled at this adventure before me, but I decided that I liked my fairy godmother’s solution better than being kissed by a guy I hadn’t even met. Still, I pouted, feeling rather indignant, so I turned to stomp away—only to prick my finger on the twig I had dropped by my side.

My last memory of my beloved life as a goose girl was the honking of 23 geese in unison, all of them frantically trying to avoid my fairy godmother, who was chasing them with her long wings trailing behind her.

“I’m technically not allowed to tell this story unless someone guesses that I am enchanted,” Gladys concluded, “but as you asked if I had spoken, well, I suppose that it was all right to bend a few rules.”

Evidently, from what Gladys told me, her curse will soon be broken; she has already managed to convince many of the former tenants of this apartment that she is, indeed, enchanted.

So if you ever walk into our front door and can see right into Weixin’s room, you will know that Gladys is back with faithful Ralph, her dog, and all 23 of her geese. You will also find that there is nowhere to put the milk.

I won NaNoWriMo!

2009-12-01T08:50:00.002-07:00

NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) takes place every November, and the goal, as my cool little web badge says, is to write a 50,000 word novel in the 30 days of November. 50,000 words has never seemed so little!

Did I mention that I wrote the last half during the last week of the month? And somehow I even finished before bedtime! Yes! (Not that I got to bed on time, anyway, but that's another story...)

Hands

2009-11-19T21:58:00.003-07:00

(Drawing copyright 2009 by Mariah James)

In memory of Jordan.

Angel Brother

2009-11-19T21:55:00.003-07:00

Amy and I sat on either side of Jordan's bed, rubbing his chilly feet and marveling at the heat we felt when we touched my brother's legs, half a foot above his swollen feet.

Jordan was dying.

It was Saturday, October 10, 2009, and my cousin Amy and I had flown to see my big brother before the end came. Amy had recently become engaged, so we had hoped to see each other in more favorable circumstances, but Jordan's cancer had rapidly and unexpectedly spread too far. As it turned out, neither of us would have passed up that short weekend with Jordan for anything.

As we talked quietly by the side of the hospital bed in the front room, trying to hide our tears so that Jordan would not feel worse about leaving us, we watched Jordan drift softly in and out of sleep. The peace on my angel of a brother's face was astonishing, like he was once again the little boy two years older than me, rather than a twenty-two-year-old man with a mustache. He smiled in his sleep.

Those of us who were gathered around Jordan--my parents, my two sisters and my other two brothers, my dad's parents, Amy, two of Jordan's college friends, and I--found that it was hard to be anywhere but at home. True, it was hard to see Jordan hurting and not be able to sooth his pain, but the peace that overflowed in our home could not be found anywhere else. There were a lot of tears, but so much more laughter.

As Jordan would reach up to Dad with his thin arms, wrap his arms around Dad's neck, and let himself be slowly drawn to his feet, just to sit in a wheelchair and be with the rest of us, I could not help but think of a little one, just as helpless as Jordan, holding up his arms to be held and loved.

By the time Amy and I had to leave on Monday morning, Jordan wasn't able to get up as often, and it was much harder for him to move. Amy and I helped Jordan get untangled from his clothes and covers, and then we could do nothing more than to just say our good-byes and remember the pure life he had led.

Wednesday morning, the 14th, Jordan passed away, on our brother Nathaniel's sixteenth birthday. I watched him sleep, the sleep of death, with a look of immense peace on his angelic face, before we buried him.

Yet, I did not lose my brother. He is with me still; I feel him there, by my side, every hour of every day, and he is happy now, no longer trapped by his weak body. God is so good.

The Princess and the Pea

2009-10-04T19:02:00.001-06:00

Many years ago, a prince desired to find a suitable wife, but she must be a true princess. So he visited all the lands round about and searched for a true princess who would be his bride.

Many months passed away, but each princess had some trait that caused the prince to doubt that she was truly daughter to a king. The prince was still without a bride.

One night, as a storm was tearing at the doors of the palace, a pitiful knocking was heard from out in the storm. The household was aroused, and it was found that a maiden had wandered to the door of the palace. The maiden was wet from the top of her beautiful head to her dainty toes.

Though the maiden claimed to be daughter to a king, the prince wanted to know for a surety if she was of royal blood. The prince consulted with his mother, the queen, who proclaimed that they must devise a test for the maiden. So in the room where the maiden would sleep, the queen placed a single pea on the bed, and then she stacked on top twenty mattresses, and on top of the mattresses, she stacked twenty feather beds. Said the queen to her son the prince, "Surely a true princess would feel this pea underneath the mattresses, for who else would have skin that sensitive?"

Thus it happened that as the maiden (who, in truth, was daughter to a king) lay in bed that night, she felt a lump underneath her back that was very uncomfortable. She tossed and turned, but then she heard a moan underneath all of the mattresses and feather beds. Climbing down to see what it was that made that noise, the maiden discovered, underneath the twenty feather beds and twenty mattresses, a small, green pea. Said the pea, "Finally you rescue me from my prison underneath this heavy load!"

Startled, the maiden was about to call out, but the pea spoke to her calmingly until he finally won her friendship.

The next morning, the princess was summoned before the prince and the queen, and she was asked how she had slept the night before.

As she told of the lump she had felt underneath her in the bed, the prince and the queen were startled and said, "Surely this maiden is, in truth, daughter of a king!" and the prince begged her hand in marriage.

The princess thus learned that the prince loved her sensitive skin more than he loved her. So she married the pea.

The End.

Sylvester meets Little Red Riding Hood!

2009-09-25T12:52:00.001-06:00

Thy Arms

2009-09-05T19:48:00.005-06:00

As I wake in the night,
I feel thee there,
Thy arms are twined around me;
As I rise the next day,
Thou art there, too,
Lifting me to heights that astound me.

When I lean on thy arm,
I need not fear harm,
For I am carried by thee still;
All that thou asketh is for me
To trust myself to thee--
To let my life conform to thy will.

Mara--Bitter

2009-09-05T19:32:00.005-06:00

Call me not Naomi, call me Mara: for the Almighty hath dealt very bitterly with me. Ruth 1:20

Growing up, I always loved the name Mary. Whenever we played house, I was Mary. When we played with dolls, I was Mary. When we played with cars, I was Mary.

Then I learned that my own name, Mariah, is, in fact, the English form of Mary. And that Mary and my own name mean “bitter.”

For a long time, I hated that! Why couldn’t my name mean something nice? My sister Katrina’s name meant “Pure”, and my brother Nathaniel’s meant “Gift of God.” My other siblings’ names also had what I felt were nice meanings. But mine--“bitter.” Even having such a name seemed bitter to me.

Years later, I finally realized what a special name I had and how my name so strongly symbolizes my own life.

Think of the bitterness of Naomi’s life--she lost her husband, lost her sons, lost her entire life that she had built up, and kept only a daughter-in-law. She said, “Call me not Naomi, call me Mara: for the Almighty hath dealt very bitterly with me” (Ruth 1:20, KJV). Mara. Meaning “bitter.” A big change from “Naomi,” which means “pleasant.”

Think of the bitterness of the life of Mary, the mother of Jesus. Pregnant with only a betrothed husband. Believed by all those around her to have been untrue. Facing the strict laws of the Jews concerning out-of-wedlock births. And that’s only the beginning of it. Having a Son who was hated by many. Being a lonely widow when she watched them crucify Him. Always staying true to her Son, her Savior, despite all persecutions. And so much more. Surely hers was a bitter life.

Yet, for both of these women, and even for me, it was only through such bitterness that their lives were sweet. Naomi’s daughter-in-law, Ruth, was married by a very kind and considerate man, Boaz, who took care of Naomi for the rest of her life. It was through Ruth’s own descendants that Christ would be born.

As for Mary--what could be sweeter than to be the mother of the Son of God? What could be dearer than knowing of His love, than knowing, even nurturing and teaching the Savior of the world? Truly, hers was a life of the utmost sweetness!

My life has not been as dramatic as these two women found life to be--Mary and Naomi, who renamed herself Mara. Yet I, Mariah, can testify that my own struggles, the bitterness of my life--so much of it brought on in my innocence, at times even coming because of my obedience to God--it has been because of, and through, the bitterness of my life that it is so very, very sweet. I thank God, in His mercy and love, for that.

Mary, Mara, and Mariah. Bitterness turned sweet.

Published!

2009-08-21T11:30:00.004-06:00

My book, Ferdinard and Other Unexpected Fairy Tales (by Mariah B. Forre) is now available online!

My estore:

https://createspace.com/Customer/EStore.do?id=3387392

Amazon.com:

http://amazon.com/Ferdinard-Other-Unexpected-Fairy-Tales/dp/1448607701/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1250530744&sr=8-1

Or, visit my website:

http://mariahbforre.weebly.com/

I'm Back! (Also: Mariah Being Excited about an Upcoming Wedding)

2009-08-05T08:13:00.007-06:00

Wow. Gone one week, and come back to four updated blogs. More than I usually see in a week. Not to mention that I'm expecting an update on my friend Mariah's blog soon... mission stories from France, posted by some relative or other.

And I also came home to one of those wedding announcements on the table--you know, like the other four on the fridge. But this one's pretty special. Not only do I actually know the people in the picture, but they are my third cousin, Tyrie, and his fiancee, Paige!

I'm pretty sure I'm the only third cousin who got one of those.

Of course, the only reason I know Tyrie is because he was in my ward (meaning we went to church together, Spencer) and we lived in the same apartment complex, until he deserted us for his family in Orem.

But during the two semesters we shared, oh, it was great. We always sat together in church (once we found out that we were related), and people would either think that we were dating or brother and sister. We disappointed so many girls! Until they found out we were related, when they would generally forbid us from dating. He, he. Good times.

Anyway, time for me to go. I have a lot to catch up on. Assignments to grade, blog posts to finish reading, groceries to buy, clothes to wash, Nerf gun shooting to do (complete with war paint, of course!), a book to get ready for sell, a family reunion to prepare for (hopefully Tyrie will come...), a new apartment to find,....

"GONE OUT/BACK SOON/C. R."

2009-07-28T06:35:00.003-06:00

To quote Christopher Robin (with an earlier sign):

GON OUT
BACKSON
BISY
BACKSON

C. R.

I won't be back so soon as Christopher Robin (he was gone at school), but I'll only be gone for a week, with limited internet access. But don't worry... if you email or comment, I will get back to you (eventually)!

-Mariah :)

Sylvester's Nightmare

2009-06-13T21:23:00.004-06:00

Sylvester slowly opened his eyes and stre-e-etched. Sleepily he climbed out of bed, slipped his four feet into his slippers, and combed his fur. Yup, he thought, today will be the perfect day for visiting those three little pigs! Maybe he could even invite them over for dinner. He doubted that they would come, though; for some reason they were convinced that Sylvester was out to eat them. Just because he happened to be a wolf.

As Sylvester walked down the hall towards the front door, he vaguely noticed that something was different about his home. It had always seemed like a cave before, but now it looked rather like a house.

By the time he had walked out of the house and onto the sidewalk, Sylvester was wide awake and very aware that he was in the middle of a city, not in his forest home. And he was the only wolf in sight.

Sylvester spent the day knocking on doors (little boy, little boy, let me come in!). He even managed to keep his temper when people threw things at him--so he didn’t end up blow a single house down.

Finally Sylvester reached my neighborhood. I heard a knock on the door and a voice called out, “Little girl *sniff*, little girl *snuffle*, let me come in!”

“Oh, poor Sylvester!” I cried out as I hurriedly opened the door. “What are you doing here? Did you get lost?” And then he sobbed out the whole story.

“Mariah,” he said at the end of his story, “you’re the author. Can’t you write me back home?”

I thought for a minute. A lazy-author ending, if you ask me. But on the other hand, I was the one who wrote him into the problem in the first place. It would be mean to just leave him in the middle of a city. Then I thought of something else.

“Sylvester, why don’t you take a nap?”

“?”

“Trust me on this, okay?”

So Sylvester curled up in the corner of my front room, and I watched him carefully. Sure enough, he began to fade away.

And then I woke up.

Just a Thought...

2009-06-11T15:38:00.003-06:00

This is what randomly popped into my head this morning in the shower:

"Little pig! Little pig! Let me come in!"

"Not by the chair of my henny hen hen!"

I'll make something of it sooner or later... but it'll mess up the formatting on my book if I add it to this one!

:)

Or maybe I'll do it anyway...

"Advertisements" Madlib

2009-06-10T22:24:00.004-06:00

Do you remember my poem, Advertisements?

Now I have made it into a Madlib. Wanna try it? Here's the link:

[no longer a valid link]

And here's what happened when I tested it (I have since fixed a blank or two):

http://airpaints.blogspot.com/2009/03/madlibs-advertisements.html

A Surprising Discovery

2009-06-06T19:44:00.003-06:00

I walked just onto the road, off of the sidewalk but still before the bike lane, and waited for the cars to pass. There were two of them in a row. The first, I knew, was too close to start breaking; the other would be past me just a few seconds after the first.

Then the fellow who came down the stairs after me walked right out in front of the second car, so that it had to slow down and stop. I followed him, knowing that if I didn't, the car would wait there until I did.

"You have to just go and show them you're in charge," the fellow said, turning to me with a smile.

I found myself unable to smile back, and soon after his back was turned again, I was finally able to release the tears that wouldn't come before.

That was when I somehow solved the puzzle that has perplexed me since I was in high school: why in some instances I avoid attention like the plague, and why in other cases I do things that I know will attract a lot of attention, and I couldn't care less.

For example, when we moved to California when I was twelve, I absolutely hated it when people asked me about myself, and where I was from. Yet last year it was very well accepted that I brought a teddy bear to church, and I often climbed the tree in front of the apartment complex while holding my bear and wearing a long, white dress (that I made out of a sheet) and a cloak.

But tonight, it dawned on me that it's not attention that I'm really trying to avoid--it's interaction with other people.

So I'm really not shy--I don't care much about others' opinions of me, and I have no problem making a spectacle of myself in front of the whole ward. There are just certain ways of interacting with people--particularly if it is negative or overcritical in nature--that are difficult for me to deal with. It's hard for me to function in those settings, and I know that it is, so I try to avoid them. This allows me to avoid the frustration of not being able to express myself and of being frightfully misunderstood.

It also means that I can appear to be very shy--which is how I have been labeled since I was a child.

For example, I know that I get to know people better, when I first meet them, by watching them, not talking to them. And it is hard for me to carry on a conversation when I don't really know someone. So my monosyllabic answers to questions and my tendency to answer questions without posing some of my own makes me seem shy.

And there are countless other examples of this.

And now it makes sense. So I'm not so inconsistent, after all! :)

Dehydrated Fairy Tale

2009-05-27T21:02:00.007-06:00

Cinderella was compelling in all of her moods: feigned indifference,

"Hey, we're going to the ball tonight, and you can't come!"

"Whatever."

sadness,

"I really wish that I could go to the ball. Now I don't have anything to do all night except mope around by the fireplace."

shock,

"Whoa! Sparkly, shiny lady with wings in my kitchen!"

indignation,

"Why'd you have to spoil my best pumpkin? I was going to make it into a pie!"

frustration,

"Fairy godmothers! only give me until midnight and then waste the time until eleven fussing about the dress!"

flustered excitement,

"Oh dear! oh dear! oh dear! oh dear! I can't believe I'm actually in a royal ball about to meet a prince!"

surprised discovery,

"Hey, this guy is kinda cute!"

disappointment,

"Midnight already?! I'll never see him again!"

panic,

"I can't let them catch me like this. I look ridiculous, dressed in rags, carrying a pumpkin, and with mice running around my feet."

anger,

"Let me try the slipper on, already! It obviously doesn't fit you!"

triumph,

"Ha, ha! I get to marry the prince!"

and most of all, happiness.

"Is this the part where they usually say, 'And they lived happily ever after. The end'? I guess I can live with that--except for the 'the end' part."

And there's the dehydrated story of Cinderella. Just add water. And duck and cover.

Disclaimer: I have no idea where this Cinderella came from. She just kinda showed up on my doorstep, metaphorically speaking, and demanded to be heard. Yeah, she caught me off-guard, too.

Preview

2009-05-23T17:01:00.004-06:00

I have created a preview of one of my stories; it is the first of my Three Beanstalk Tales. This one is in verse. The other two will be in narrative form.

https://www.createspace.com/Preview/1057714

Please help me out and visit the link above to tell me what you think!

Thanks!

-Mariah :)

Attn: This preview is now inactive; you can no longer access it. Thanks!

"I will not forget thee. I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands." (see Isaiah 49:15-16)

2009-05-23T12:13:00.014-06:00

Never before in my life have I so firmly felt the hand of God in so many different aspects of life.

I've known all school year that I was supposed to stay in Provo for the summer, but I had no idea for the longest time what I would be doing, as I have no classes to take right now.

The past few weeks, however, things have really begun to fall into place, and everything feels so right. I am amazed to see how well everything is working out, and it is also amazing that I know that I am doing exactly what God wants me to be doing.

I have found myself doing things I never thought I would. I've volunteered to help with New Student Orientation in June. I'm volunteering as a writing tutor. Last week I submitted my retelling of Gladys to a writing competition--that I learned about on the last day. All of these things were unexpected; all of them feel so right and good.

But that's not all. This week, I felt like I was supposed to stop looking for a job. Instead, I've been home a lot--writing. Writing a book to publish. ?!

This is the most unexpected part of my summer. Me? Publish a book? How? Will people even want to buy it?

Yet I know it is what God wants me to do, and already I have felt it change me. Somehow, I am now more confident, happier, more fulfilled, calmer, more radiant, more me. I've discovered a lot about myself, about the way I write, about what God has in store for me in my life.

After I decided to publish, I have found that my Heavenly Father is now more intricately involved in my writing than He ever has before. It caught me totally off guard when suddenly I knew which of my stories I needed to start working with. It surprised me even more when I realized that He cared what name I wrote under.

I mean, I thought if I used a pen name it would just be for me, and that it might be nice just to use my real name. But that didn't feel right. It just wasn't right. So I went through a long process to find what was right. Lots of pondering. Playing with math. Thinking about various Greek and Roman roots. Going through favorite books. Researching what other authors have used as their pen names. All of this, more than all of this, and still no idea.

Then, after working on a pen name for a while and not coming to any conclusion, I was taking a break, grabbing a snack in the kitchen. And that was when I was given a pen name. I am now Mariah B. Forre. "Before" what, I have no idea. And I'm not sure why I ended up using wordplay. I don't know why God even cared. But He did, and I now have a pen name that somehow, strangely, fits me better than any of the others I've thought of.

It amazes me how much some of these seemingly insignificant details apparently matter so much to God. And if He even cares what my pen name is, how much more does He care about me?...

(Oh, and apparently God is also my editor now. He's guided me a lot as I have decided what to keep and what to change.)

I feel so peaceful about everything. It is all so right. :)

The Sad Little Sentence

2009-05-20T13:19:00.011-06:00

Another story written for family emails (written May 8). (I've been noticing that quests are popular in these family stories...):

Once upon a time, long, long ago, in a galaxy far, far, away, there was a sentence.

Now this sentence was a very sad sentence because, despite the fact that it had all the necessary elements to qualify it as a sentence (i.e. subject, predicate, beginning capitalization, and end punctuation), it was not a very well-liked sentence. I suppose you can hardly blame people for not liking it, because, well, its name was "I don't like butterflies." See? It is a very valid sentence, but how many people go around saying, "I don't like butterflies"? So this poor little sentence didn't get to meet very many people, and it was a very lonely little sentence.

So this sentence decided that it either had to gain or lose words so that it could be a happier sentence to say.

Hm... but which words? I think this calls for a quest!

The little sentence left the next day on its quest. The first person the sentence ran into--wasn't really a person, but was a butterfly-eating purple walrus that was very rude.

The sentence decided that its quest was fulfilled. It changed its name to "I don't like purple walruses that eat butterflies."

The little sentence was now a very happy little sentence and lived happily ever after.

The end.

Alternate Ending:

So the little sentence changed its name to "I don't like purple walruses that eat butterflies."

Despite the fact that it was now a sentence that would be used even less frequently than the original sentence (people don't often talk about butterfly-eating walruses that are purple), the little sentence was now a happy little sentence.

So you see, the moral of the story is that one's view of oneself affects one's happiness more than others' opinions do.

Either that, or (more likely) the little sentence, though used rarely, was now used by nicer people.

The End.

A Part of Speech Love Story

2009-05-20T13:15:00.007-06:00

This is a story I wrote for my brother (my family sometimes likes to email short stories--very short stories--to each other, just for fun), written May 2:

Once upon a time, there was an adjective.

This was a very silly adjective.

He went for a walk with his ladyfriend, who was a noun.

They decided to go get advergers for lunch.

When they got to the restaurant, the owner, a rather lively verb, jumped up and down with rage (he was jealous because the noun was such a sweetheart). He frightened the poor noun, who started to cry, and the adjective, taking a cue from the adverger, sweetly put his arm around her.

Two months later, they sent out some very silly wedding announcements.

The end.

Of Insect Collections

2009-05-19T10:09:00.005-06:00

In light of Spencer's recent adventures with bugs, I thought I'd share the story of my first gift from a guy...

Sky is a friend from church (he lives just a couple streets away from my family), and we happened to have the same biology teacher in 9th grade--although we weren't in the same period. Sky, who at the time wanted to be a biologist, was a lot more excited than I was when it was announced that we would be making insect collections.

As for me, tender-hearted little Mariah cried the first time she had to kill bugs for her collection--this was not a happy time for her (even though she got to see the gorgeous inner wing of a rather large ladybug).

But some good did come to me from the experience. We had a list of different kinds of insects we needed, and one of them was a grasshopper or cricket. Which I couldn't find.

Sky went to a pet shop to buy a cricket. And he bought one for me, too.

It was such a fat little thing--maybe even the biggest in my collection. Because it was raised to be fed to pets, it wasn't really built to jump well.

So one morning, at early morning seminary (Sky and I were in the same class), he delivered a great big pickle jar to me--containing my cricket.

Thanks, Sky!

!!!!!!!!!!!!

2009-05-19T10:06:00.001-06:00

Kirsten and Chas have a new baby boy!!!

Yay!

Even though none of my readers know them. That's OK; Mariah's excited. :D

Announcement:

2009-05-16T12:03:00.003-06:00

Yesterday I rewrote Gladys and submitted it to a writing contest. The new version is written as told by Gladys, and I will post it after the contest is over.

(I haven't decided which version I like better; I like them both, but the new version would make more sense to someone who has never met or heard of Gladys, and it also removes the need for background information. So it's better for a writing contest. Not necessarily better writing, though.)

I've never really done anything like this before, so I'm kinda nervous... and I don't know what my chances are.... Wish me luck! :)

Background?

2009-05-14T21:59:00.005-06:00

This started out with me planning on making a background... but the pictures I chose didn't work for something that big... but here it is... Yeah, Mariah likes to wear warpaint...

"Addie's Birthday" Egg Hunt is Over

2009-05-14T09:26:00.001-06:00

My "Addie's Birthday" Egg hunt is now officially over. I want to get things back to normal again. So some of the changes will remain (like the snail at the bottom of the page), but some will return to their previous state (e.g. "comentarios" will change back to "comments").

The end.

Animal Friends

2009-05-13T16:41:00.005-06:00

Soft white cat,
From whence do ye hail?
Ye sit quite silently,
Just twitching your tail.

Let me pet you, little cat;
Let me feel your soft fur.
Ye rub thyself against my leg,
Ye begin to purr.

Little blue bird,
Why have ye come here?
Ye land outside my window,
Ye cause me to wipe away my tears.

Ye are outside, and I am within,
But let me listen to your sweet song.
Perhaps ye are a gift from above,
To help me forget all that today went wrong.

*Note: "Ye" was, way back in the day, the form of "you" that would be used as the subject of a sentence. "You" would be used as the object. I.e. I said, "Ye begin..." because the cat, or you/ye, was the subject. However, I also said, "Let me pet you," because in that sentence, the "you" is the object; it is receiving, rather than doing, the action.

"Addie's Birthday" Egg Hunt

2009-05-08T15:54:00.019-06:00

Maybe I'm a little late for Easter, but... let's have an "egg" hunt anyway, for my roommate Addie's birthday!

And since this is a blog, and there are very limited hiding places for eggs on a blog, we can't use real eggs either. So think of it like Easter eggs on a DVD.

These "eggs" will be little unexpected tidbits that I have recently added to my blog (like my comments on the "Followers" gadget). I won't make you go back to way early posts or anything, but... you will find an "egg" if you comment on any post. (Sorry to those of you who don't usually see my blog... you may not know what to look for. If it makes you feel any better, my followers probably don't, either.)

Note: These are not in the text of posts themselves. Many are on the sidebar, and some are on the bottom of every post, though.

Here's a list of hints (so you know what's an "egg" and what doesn't count):

Followers: ____
Click on the link to add a comment (Lewis Carroll).
Speaking of which, did you catch the change to Spanish?
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind?
Did you find the snail?
Does anybody want a peanut?
I hope you haven't had too much of my writing...
If you only read one or two things, what should they be?
Find two exclamation marks within one set of parenthesis.
Does this one make sense to you?
Dinner rolls, anyone? (Yes, Mariah loves wordplay.)
Mariah is rather colorful--but that's not what this one now says. (It usually says "log.")
For all of you who wear their flannel nighties in the winter when it's not hot... (oh, dear!)
Where's Waldo? Besides in the posts (and in the MOA). (There are five places on the sidebar this month, but next month, only four will automatically show.
We've changed from blue to silver now, have we?
Now Mariah writes, not posts.
And, along with that, I now have what sort of labels?!!!
Can you find the three dud labels on this post (labels that I've never used before, and that don't fit this post)?

Comment away to share what you've found! ;)

Sorry, no prizes, though. Unless you want a virtual teddy bear or the Mother Goose stamp I made in Paint.

Happy hunting!

-Mariah :)

Where's Waldo? In the MOA?!!!

2009-05-06T17:42:00.017-06:00

Recently, a small stir was created on BYU campus by large food items and... Waldo wandering around the Wilk.

The walking, talking foodstuffs were present for advertising purposes, but Waldo was an unexpected visitor.

Waldo was really Mariah, an Elementary Education major who had been "found" by trick-or-treaters in a production her drama class had put on earlier that day, in the MOA. Mariah says, "It was really exciting to portray someone who people recognize so easily. I was 'found' all over campus--in the MOA, in the Wilk, in the Smith Fieldhouse and RB. It was rather fun."

Mariah as Waldo, in her apartment,
after an exciting day of being "found"
throughout campus. Picture taken by Wex.

Mariah was found by Anna in the MOA ("I found Waldo in the MOA!!!! =D I win."), by James (wearing camouflage) and by a banana in the Wilk, and by Lydia (from the dorms two years ago) in the RB.

While James and Mariah were eating ice cream in the Wilk, the two friends agreed that if the banana came to sit with them, they would look like they were at a costume party, what with James in his BDU's and Mariah in her stripes.

Mariah's day as Waldo was also the day of the non-written part of her final for her dance class: teaching a line dance called Rodeo to her classmates. Mariah says, "Teaching as Waldo helped me feel less nervous--because, after all, Waldo is always wandering around in the craziest places, and he is always perfectly calm. He could be in the middle of a battlefield, and he wouldn't care."

Vocabulary/Abbreviations:
* BYU: Brigham Young University, located in Provo, Utah.
* Wilk:the Wilkinson Student Center, the social center of campus.
* MOA: the Museum of Art.
* Smith Fieldhouse:the George Albert Smith Fieldhouse, location of the indoor track and many PE classes.
* RB:the Richards Building, location of many PE and dance classes.
* BDU's: Battle Dress Uniform (aka camouflage)

Back Home

2009-05-05T22:05:00.015-06:00

Home, sweet home...

Back to my roommates, to my friends, but leaving so many others who I miss, too.

Back to living on my own, to making fruit salads, to having house plants to pamper.

Back to a place that is far away from my closest friend. But back to a place where that friend still supports me in all I do.

Back to where I need to be, back to much work to be done.

Back to a place where I'm not sure if the Celtic music is helping or making it worse.

Back to my harmonica, but away from the piano.

Back to teaching. Back to learning.

Back to memories. Back to looking toward the future. Back to my present.

Back to writing, back to art, to helping, to watching the ducks in the duck pond.

Back to walks around Provo, and very glad to be back to a grid system of streets and blocks.

Back to the University, although it is rather empty.

Back to dashing across University Avenue with groceries--always an adventure. (Maybe someday they'll put a light there, instead of just a crosswalk... Or maybe someday I'll decide that walking a block north to a light, and then a block south again, with a backpack full of groceries, plus bags I carry, isn't so bad.)

Back to Sylvie and Bruno (two of my plants)... and to Sylvie and Bruno (a favorite book).

Back to Wex and Addie--but away from my family, and not wanting to say goodbye to Addie so soon.

Back to my fireplace, made of poster board.

Back to my two Nativity sets, which are up year-round.

Back to studying nursery rhymes.

Back to writing lesson plans.

Back to warpaint when I'm stressed, and dancing in the front room (and the kitchen--almost running into Gladys--and between the two beds in the bedroom... and sometimes even right outside our apartment door, by the tape person) whether I'm stressed or not.

Back to my cloak, my pirate hat and sword, to my teddy bear and bunny.

Back to building forts in the front room, since our couches are so easy to move.

Back away from animals and children.

Back close to cousins, but far away from my great-grandmother in the rest home.

Back to a place where I am loved for who I am, even though I had to leave another place where I am also loved.

Back to hikes in Rock Canyon and to the Y.

Back to finding quartzite and limestone--and knowing what they are and how they were formed.

Back to textbooks, to teaching ideas, to my vast collection of sheet music, but away from Mom's Leroy Anderson piano scores. :(

Back to making things (you don't get to make messes when you're trying to sell your house, even if you're going to clean up after yourself) all the time, with all my construction paper, ribbon, finger paints, pen and ink, ...

Back to Mariángel, to Gladys and Ralph, to all my imaginings.

Back to a very lived-in apartment, away from what is becoming a "model" home.

Back to living a block south of Diane, but rarely seeing her. (I've got to do something about that this summer...)

Back to learning to play the recorder flute.

Back to practicing the calls to various dances (like "Alunelul", from Romania... one of my favorites.) Back to raising my voice as I do so, even when I'm just calling for myself. :)

Back to my books, lined up from shortest to tallest.

Back to my birds, butterfly, and snake.

Back to the two leaves I painted gold.

Back to the "Choose Best" on my wall.

Back to my Christmas music.

Back to all that stationary I hardly ever use.

Back to my own bed. (Although I don't have a top bunk to retreat to anymore. Aw...)

Back to life pressing forward.

Back to that article on Waldo sightings that I still haven't written... ;)

Goin' Home

2009-04-22T21:32:00.000-06:00

Just a note... I'll be visiting home for a while--until May 5. So if I seem to disappear from off the face of the earth, that's why. But don't worry; I'll be back!

Base-11

2009-04-22T13:21:00.010-06:00

It looks like Waldo's going to have to wait a while longer; Mariah's writing about math today!

Actually, this was a writeup on a presentation--my final for my math class. I have only modified it slightly, so if it reads like a school assignment, that's because it is. (But there are enough strange interjections in there that I think we're OK.)

Enjoy!

Mariah’s Base-11 Number System

The Task: Create a base-11 number system. Be able to explain how it works and be able to talk about it without reference to our base-10 system. This number system should be able to represent any number and allow you to add, subtract, multiply, and divide.

The Number System, Introduced: Before you get to meet this base-11 system, let me mention that a diagram that shows how to count using my number system and a multiplication table using my number system are attached on my website.

Now for the introductions: reader, meet my number system; number system, reader. Some of you may have seen a bit of her in the works, but here she is, complete and whole.

Let us start with the numbers, the equivalents of zero through ten. Below, the first symbol is the number; this is followed by its name; and last of all is its equivalent in our base-10 system. To pronounce each number, u=oo, a=ah, oh=oh, i=ee, and eh=eh. The consonants are pronounced as written.

= Nu=0

=Za=1

=Roh=2

=Li=3

=Meh=4

=Ba=5

=Foh=6

=Ki=7

=Teh=8

=Pa=9

=Quoh=10

As you can see on the attached page, with this number system, it is fairly easy to count to any number or to multiply as we are accustomed to doing with our base-10 system. I also found a surprising number of patterns as I constructed the multiplication table. For instance, I found that doubles (such as
) occurred more frequently towards the middle of the table than on the borders of the table.

The Development of the Number System: I started what developed into this number system while my group was working on our own number system. The system we were working on was a (mostly) additive system, using five symbols, O, A, B, C, and D. While we were doing this, I wondered what would happen if I used these symbols to create a base-5 system. However, as I was writing out the numbers to see what would happen as I counted, I very soon became confused and rather annoyed because I kept on spelling words. By the time I reached “BOO,” I decided I was done with the letters. That was when I developed my numbers nu through meh (my equivalents of zero through four).

Soon enough, I tired of base-5, because it was too similar to our base-10 system. Five and ten are such logical numbers to use in a number system and work really well, but I wanted to see what would happen if I used a number that was totally unexpected and did not seem as useful, such as eleven or thirteen. I suppose that that base-11 system really wanted to come into being, because the thought of using eleven was very persistent. So that was the beginning.

Now a few words about some of the symbols I chose. I knew that in order for this to make sense to me, I would have to use symbols that do not mean anything else to me, so I developed my own symbols. Nu’s symbol (see above; it's a pain to copy images in a blog post) was the first for me to develop, if I remember correctly. As you can see, it kind of floats above the other numbers, instead of being on the same line as them. I chose to do this to signify that nu, in and of itself, did not mean anything. It either signified zero or was a place-holder, so I wanted to make it smaller than the other numbers. After I created nu, I played around with different squiggly shapes and lines to create the others.

Meh (see above) is a bit bigger than many of the other symbols because, initially, in the original base-5 system, meh was the largest number. When I moved on to develop my base-11 system, I kept the first five symbols, as I was already becoming used to them, and I decided I had the choice to either keep meh where it was or, since it was bigger, move it to the end and change it so that it meant ten. I decided to keep it as a value of four, largely because I was already used to it, it seemed to fit there, and I did not want to go through the process of trying to change its meaning that had been developing in my mind.

After meh, I played around with different shapes, until I reached quoh (see above), which, surprisingly, is smaller (shorter, at least) than the other numbers, besides nu. I am not sure why I did that, besides that the shape was pleasing to me and it felt like it fit there. So I allowed it to remain.

After I developed the different numbers and named them (using mostly Spanish vowels, as I have studied the language for several years), I worked out how to count to , the first three-digit number, and also the patterns that I would follow in naming the progressively larger numbers. I then experimented with different math problems, and then constructed a multiplication table. (Which was really hard.) And now, my numbers are beginning to come (kind of) naturally to me, and to have more meaning.

In Conclusion (Or, The Number System and Understanding Children’s Mathematics): This project was very useful in understanding the process that children go through to understand our number system. It is not something they are born with, and there are many different ways to organize and think about numbers. The process of exploring a new number system has given me plenty to think about in terms of what would be the best way to teach a number system to children. Rather than merely drilling the children on the numbers 1-10 and expecting them to catch on to a base-10 system, I believe that what would help the children most would be to give them a chance to have some guided exploration.

Mary Kay Party

2009-04-16T12:59:00.005-06:00

This is what happens when Mariah goes to a makeup party (in her kitchen):

Anna

Wex

Mariah...

...wearing warpaint....

Too bad I didn't get a picture of the mustache, though! ;)

I've come to the conclusion that I should probably get some face paints. Because I don't own any makeup, and the only paint I have are four colors of finger paint.

Also, I liked the brown and green eyeshadow as warpaint better than the orange-ish blush, but I ran out of the eyeshadow a lot faster. So just a few arrows on my cheeks, and then I had to resort to blush.

And the lipstick wasn't dark enough to work for freckles. :(

Tag: 15 albums that have impacted my life

2009-04-14T19:55:00.002-06:00

My friend Spencer tagged me (expect a virtual teddy bear to be chucked at you sometime soon... as soon as I can figure out how to do that... not that I mind being tagged, but... yeah... just for fun). I am supposed to list 15 albums that have impacted me. So here goes! (In no particular order.)

1. An album called Celtic Magic, which my family has on tape, and we sometimes listen to it in the van. My most-defined memory of this album was on our trip to Yosemite a couple years ago and... I can't say more about this one; it's too hard to put into words, and it hurts. But suffice it to say that at a time when I had no idea what was going on around me and could hardly even hear, this haunting Celtic music was the only thing I could hear, loud and clear.

2. This one is a song, not an album. Because I've never owned the entire album. The song is Dave Grusin's "Heaven Can Wait," from the album "Cinemagic." A bit of jazz, I guess? But as kids, we absolutely loved this song. Maybe our name for it wasn't quite politically correct, though; to us it was the "fat person and fairy song," or alternately, the "elephant and fairy" song. We used it in one of the videos we filmed in our basement, and I, especially, loved to dance to it (I guess I've always loved to dance, huh, Mom?). It was a song I've remembered all my life, and recently (aka Christmas break), I finally asked Dad what the song was, as I could remember the melody. And then I bought it. Yay!

3. En Accord, an album of piano music that was a birthday present from my friend Diane. She is the artist, and the album is home-recorded, so sorry, folks; it's not available. Calming classical, etc. music. Some of it religious, some of it from the Phantom of the Opera or from The Lord of the Rings (neither of which I have ever seen, by the way). This CD has shared countless APUSH (AP US History) reading assignments with me.

4. Paul Cardall's Hymns Vol. I and II. These gorgeous piano solos have brought a lot of peace to my soul when life has been tough. Vol. I has been with me two years; Vol. II joined Vol. I and me about a year ago. They are so peaceful, especially two of the original compositions on the CD's, The Release and Journey Within.

5. Saturday's Warrior. Now don't laugh. Because Saturday's Warrior was part of my quest for light in a world of darkness at school in middle school, a world where I was not accepted and didn't belong, with darkness that I didn't help create.

6. Consider the Lilies is one of my all-time favorite Mormon Tabernacle Choir albums. Very peaceful and calming. (Hm... a bit of a theme emerging?)

7. Noel--One of my all-time favorite Christmas albums, and it also happens to be by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. Yay for Christmas music! (I listen to Christmas music year round...)

8. Uncle Billy--OK, now he prefers to be Uncle Bill (which complicated matters because that means that I have two Uncle Bills on the same side of the family). But growing up, my siblings and I loved to listen to Uncle Billy's music... some favorites being "Take Me Back to the Asylum," "Crazy People Sing the Weirdest Songs," and "Junk Mail." Good times. :)

9. 18 Musical Highlights: Ballet Music CD. This one came with a book of ballet stories that belongs to my sister and me. I kind of adopted the CD... Lots of Tchaikovsky, lots of really intense emotions, and it helps me to listen to this when I feel the way it sounds.

10. Serenity--Again, very peaceful and often helps me calm down.

11. Nauvoo Brass Bands--part of my heritage. These are songs that my early Mormon ancestors would have been familiar with, and they're really neat. They tell part of my story.

12. Canciones para los niños--Primary songs in Spanish. (Children's songs--sung at church and in the home.) I think I got these when I was studying for the AP Spanish test. They helped my Spanish vocabulary, or at least my Spanish religious vocabulary, and they are calming to listen to, and help me sometimes satisfy my craving for Spanish.

13. Young Women Camp Manual Songs. We sometimes listen to these in the van, too. Most of these are not actually songs I learned at girls' camp, but I love them.

14. Silly Songs with Larry. Yeah, I had to stick Veggie Tales in here somewhere. Mariah is officially a Veggie Tales fan. My favorite songs including The Pirates who Don't Do Anything. Always good for a smile.

15. Temple Pageant. My CD of music from the Oakland Temple Pageant, which my entire family besides my dad has participated in (Dad was--and still is--serving in the bishopric, so... he didn't really have time to drive up to Oakland that often). We listened to that CD sooo many times in the car while we were trying to learn the songs!

Oh, and I'm supposed to tag people, too. Bother. Let's see...

I'll tag:
Matelia
And any of my other followers who want to (that means Zevran Man, Aunt Merri, and Wex.)
David, if you want to, you are welcome... but I know you're ridiculously busy, so don't worry if you don't have time/don't want to. :)
(Added on May 8th: Even though I never informed anyone that they were tagged... so they really don't have to do it...)

Coming Soon: Waldo Sightings

2009-04-09T08:06:00.003-06:00

Waldo Sightings at BYU...

Unfortunately, I only have one picture, of Mariah-Waldo in my apartment, and none of a banana finding me...

So when I have time (?) and finals have calmed down a little bit, expect the story behind all this...

To a Little Friend

2009-04-05T20:48:00.001-06:00

The whirring of tiny wings,
***six miniature feet touch my hand.
I smile, delighted to make a new friend,
***a friend, although it is so small.

Such a tiny breeze you make,
***and how you tickle my skin!
Such a delicate little creature,
***yet one that is so little appreciated.

The little fly bends forward,
***as if it was a dog, smelling for food.
Its simple actions, cleaning itself
***or exploring my finger, touch my heart.

A fairytale tells of a quest
***for a dog small enough to fit in a walnut.
It seems such a waste,
***for a fly is just as simple, and very small.

Jet black, with a body almost invisible,
***it is so small and vulnerable.
Let me protect you,
***here is my hand for you.

Tiny fly, thank you for bringing
***the simple pleasures of life to me.
Your little life has no troubles bigger
***than scavenging for food.

You fly away from me,
***but soon you are back,
Wanting to be loved,
***just like us big creatures.

I long to stroke your back,
***but you are too small.
Let’s touch fingers instead,
***so I don’t crush you.

Perhaps it may seem strange
***to be so touched by an insect,
But you bring my heart such joy,
***simply because you are alive.

A reverence for life is a wonderful gift.
***It gives magical lenses
Through which I can see
***all the wonders of the world.

Little one, you are so perfect!
***God took great care to craft you,
Each wing, each antenna formed
***with the greatest skill in the world.

Your six legs, in perfect symmetry,
***your teardrop-shaped wings,
Antennae thinner than a pencil stroke,
***All of you small enough to fit in a seed.

Little fly, if God formed you
***so carefully, if He loves you so much,
How much must He love me,
***His very own child!

Think of the skill of the Master’s hand,
***forming all of His creations,
Small and great, it makes no difference,
***for He loves them all.

He makes no mistakes,
***but carefully guides each one of us,
Hoping that we will someday see
***how precious we are to Him.

Thank Thee, God, for this world,
***I thank Thee for wind in my face,
For peace that soothes my heart.
***Thank Thee, God, for tiny flies.

A True Friend

2009-03-29T15:50:00.001-06:00

The following poem is dedicated to a good friend, whose name is hidden in the poem. Thank you for your support!

Dear friend,
Caring, not judging,
Inviting, easy to turn to,
Stairs to help me reach higher and be better,
Would always support me in my greatest times of need.

Coming Soon on Blogs Near You

2009-03-27T09:17:00.002-06:00

I haven't been writing much lately... on my blog, I mean; I've been writing plenty of lesson plans/lesson ideas! ;) Which are fun, too...

So... expect something (mildly) exciting soon! (Like a song on playground safety that I'm supposed to write for my health class?)

Or maybe a preview... since this isn't doing too well at being one...

Thought of the Day:

2009-03-23T19:20:00.003-06:00

It's kinda sad when you have to defrost your carrots (in the front of my shelf in the fridge, of course) before you can eat them.

Poor Ralph!

"Let's Hijack Them!"

2009-03-15T17:30:00.002-06:00

I love my roommates.

Today we were running late for church (Addie apologized...) so Leah, our roommate with a sprained ankle and a car, left about a minute before Addie and I did--for once.

There was no way for Addie and me to get to church on time walking at a comfortable pace, and as neither of us wanted to run/speedwalk, we hurried down the stairs as fast as we could to catch Leah before she left.

When we reached the parking lot, she was just starting the car, and a guy in the ward was just climbing into the passenger seat.

And what did Addie do?

"Let's hijack them!"

So I ran over to the left of the car while Addie ran over to the right, and we hopped inside at the same time.

Leah was surprised, shall we say? One minute she was starting the car, and the next the car was shaking and there were two people in the back seat.

:P

Mr. Rulean's Story

2009-03-11T15:31:00.038-06:00

Mr. Rulean is my sock puppet I made for my drama class. He is balding, with a bushy fringe of light brown hair around the back of his head, bushy eyebrows, and a nice mustache. He has very light blue--almost white--eyes (they're beads), and he wears an argyle sweater. He speaks with a slight English accent, can sometimes be easily flustered when in a group, loves his daily routine, and, surprisingly, is rather fond of adventures. (He just doesn't like starting out on them.) This is his story.

I was born on March 9, 1967, to Charles and Beatrice Rulean. My parents named me Charles, but I grew up being called "Charlie" or, alternately, "Charlie B.," (my middle name is "Between"). I was never "Charles Jr." My father strongly disapproved of being called "Charles Sr.", so that is how it stayed for the duration of my boyhood.

I was the firstborn child in the family, and after me were born ten girls and finally, the last child, a boy. We were thus born in this order: myself, Alice, Cynthia, Clarabelle, Thomasina, Rozella, Louise, Caroline, Mabel, Josephine, Sofie, and our little brother, who simply was called Rulean.

You see, by the time he was born, Mother and Father were so used to having girls that they had planned on calling the baby Mandy, but the baby proved upon his birth to be a boy. They decided that they were tired of trying to keep so many names straight, anyway, so they gave him our last name as his only name. Although that confused teachers terribly, we all grew to be used to it very quickly. After all, this way we didn't have to learn a new name.

As children, the ten girls proved to be quite adventuresome, while Rulean and I were the more timid ones, always careful and loving regularity. However, the two of us have followed in our sisters' footsteps to some degree: we both enjoy the occasional (or even habitual) adventure. We don't like being dragged into them, but once we are involved, we see them through--and thoroughly enjoy them.

Our childhood days were not all that notable--we went on the normal camping trips, explorations, and scuba diving trips, and had no more adventures than meeting the occasional alpaca, penguin, or unicorn. It was when we started out on our own that life became very interesting for all of us.

Being the eldest, I naturally was the first to leave home to see where life would bring me. So one day, at the age of fifteen, I packed up all of my belongings (along with a sack full of Mother's wonderful cooking) and set out to find my fortune. As luck would have it, I met with adventure almost immediately, for as I was walking toward the street to take the trolley, I happened to trip over a boa constrictor.

Oh, dear! I can still picture her sprawled across the walkway, lazily smelling the daisies in the grass, and then, as I tripped, jumping up into the air! She smoothly coiled her body around me as she came back down, and I found myself staring straight into her face, with my arms pinned to my side and my bags lying on top of my mother's favorite flowerbed. Bother!

I decided right then that I certainly do not enjoy having a boa constrictor I don't know stare me straight in the eyes. Rather uncomfortable, that. As it turned out, Lucy (I later learned that that was her name) happened to need a babysitter, so she brought me home to meet her husband, Richard, and their four children, Kristy, Misty, Justin, and little Dinah.

I spent the next ten years in their service before I decided to seek further adventure. The children were rather attached to me, especially Dinah, the youngest and by far the sweetest and gentlest of them all. So when I left, she was permitted to come with me, particularly as her parents hoped that new adventures would make her more predatory and more like a boa constrictor. (It didn't work, by the way.)

So Dinah and I left, side by side, firm friends and determined to face together any foe that would come our way.

Which proved to be a bit of a struggle, considering traffic regulations. But we finally discovered that if she wound herself around me, like a long scarf, we could get by with only strange looks and few interruptions.

Finally, we made it out of the city, although I was obliged to walk the entire way as boa constrictors were not allowed on trolleys.

Wandering through the countryside hand in hand (figuratively speaking, of course), Dinah and I soon met a young farm maiden, who shyly introduced herself as Rita. Well, this sort of adventure was not what I had anticipated, but I accepted it rather more cheerfully than one might think. Dinah and I soon found ourselves boarding with Rita's family, and soon enough, her parents consented to our marriage.

Word was then sent to my family back home, and my parents and all eleven of my siblings gathered together from their various adventures to attend our wedding. Dinah was Maid of Honor, and Rulean was Best Man. We were married, and settled down rather comfortably in the countryside, snug and safe in our own little home.

Meanwhile, my siblings had also been enjoying their adventures--all with similar endings to my own. Alice, Cynthia, and Clarabelle had set out not long after I had, and soon the rest of my sisters followed suit, as soon as Mother and Father let them leave. By the time of my marriage, Alice was married to a prince, Cynthia had been captured by five different dragons before settling down with a farmer, and Clarabelle was wife of a great general in the army. Soon after my marriage, Thomasina, Rozella, Louise, Caroline, Mabel, Josephine, and Sofie also found suitable matches for themselves and rather enjoyed all of their adventures.

Rulean was the last of the family to be married, as he always had trouble making decisions. Naturally he would not settle for less than the very best, and the maiden who became his wife was said to have fairy blood in her veins. By this time, he had also managed to become knighted, so he was now Sir Rulean.

After we had all settled down, Mrs. Rulean and myself found ourselves longing for more adventures, and Dinah was becoming rather jittery. We all left one day (our neighbors wondered for months what had become to us), and wandered in the nearby forest to our hearts' desire. There Dinah met a handsome boa, Thomas, who came back to our home as her husband. They now have three new babies, two boys, Nate and Reuben, and a girl, Kathrine. Mrs. Rulean and I soon found ourselves in possession of a large family ourselves, and our home has since been a very happy one.

We all love to gather around the fire and drink hot chocolate, wrapped up in dressing gowns and blankets and, for us humans, with cozy slippers on our feet. We love our daily rituals, our toast in the morning and stories by the fireside in the evening, but every once in a while, the whole family, people and boas alike, wander off in the deep woods to see what adventures we can find.

THE END.

Some notes: In preparation for making sock puppets, we experimented first with using our hands as puppets and then using objects in our backpacks as puppets. In using our hands, three of us volunteered to act out a scene our class chose for us. They decided that we would be on the moon, looking for cheese. One girl was assigned to be Summer, our drama teacher. Another girl was--oh dear, who was she now? That's right; she was Jack Sparrow. And I was Barney. That was interesting. I didn't know what to do, besides give the other hands/puppets hugs. Then we chose objects; I was a cerulean blue crayon, Sir Rulean, who was scuba diving and ended up meeting some rather hyperactive fish (Nemo and Dori) who were looking for jellyfish jam. Oh, dear! This was what helped me most in developing my sock puppet's character, although it was changed substantially enough that Mr. Rulean (Charles B. Rulean) became his brother instead of being a sock form of the same character.

So adding these three roles, along with the pea in The Princess and the Pea and a couple of aunts, I have, indeed, a formidable array of roles performed.

I'm done.

Missionary Scriptures

2009-03-08T16:54:00.006-06:00

My missionary friend, Heather, sent me a list of scriptures she has found in her recent studies that she wanted to share with me, so I thought I would pass them on to you.

Philippians 4:13
"I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me."

2 Timothy 4:7
"I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith."

:) 1 Timothy 5:7
"And these things give in charge, that they may be blameless."
(The footnote says the original Greek word here translated as "give," could also be translated to mean "instruct" or "command") :P

Ephesians 5:19
"Speaking to yourselves in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody in your heart to the Lord."

Doctrine and Covenants 25:12
"For my soul delighteth in the song of the heart; yea, the song of the righteous is a prayer unto me, and it shall be answered with a blessing upon their heads."

Doctrine and Covenants 136:28
"If thou art merry, praise the Lord with singing, with music, with dancing, and with a prayer of praise and thanksgiving."

Ephesians 5:25-33
"Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the church, and gave himself for it;

"That he might sanctify and cleanse it with the washing of water by the word,

"That he might present it to himself a glorious church, not having spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing; but that it should be holy and without blemish.

"So ought men to love their wives as their own bodies. He that loveth his wife loveth himself.

"For no man ever yet hated his own flesh; but nourisheth and cherisheth it, even as the Lord the church:

"For we are members of his body, of his flesh, and of his bones.

"For this cause shall a man leave his father and mother, and shall be joined unto his wife, and they two shall be one flesh.

"This is a great mystery: but I speak concerning Christ and the church.

"Nevertheless, let every one of you in particular so love his wife even as himself; and the wife see that she reverence her husband."

2009-03-05T10:27:00.015-07:00

Aren’t you lucky?
This medication will magically heal.
Our pork chops are not imaginary,
But are 100% real.

Best value in Provo!
If you live elsewhere, you’re out of luck.
We offer real savings—
Provided you buy this frozen duck.

10 for $10,
Collect all four toys with your meal!
This super premium food
Is such an unbelievable deal.

Buy now, pay later
Even though you will end up paying more;
We know how to create customer loyalty
Without helping anyone reach the shore.

This is a limited time offer,
Although you know it’s not the last;
Come on, just buy it—
Don’t you deserve the best?

If you buy two, you’ll get one free—
Nice how we can get you to purchase more than you plan…
But that’s not all—ain’t it grand?
You can buy this product for
****less than more expensive brands!

(I initially got this idea from my shampoo--I was reading the back and noticed that it was talking about all that it can do... for "less than more expensive brands." Hmm... tricky... of course it'll be less than more expensive brands! So this got me thinking about the language used in advertising that is intended to produce a gut reaction... that may not match up with what we would do if we really think things through. The results being this poem. With lots of big, brightly-colored fun. That really get your attention... and can be kind of muddling if that's all we looked at. Like advertising. The End.)

Madlibs: "Advertisements"

2009-03-05T10:26:00.000-07:00

My Madlib version of the poem (try out the Madlib!)

Aren't you lucky?
This dwarf will magically heal.
Our hooves are not imaginary,
But are 100% real.

Best value in Rock Canyon!
If you live elsewhere, you’re out of luck.
We offer real savings—
Provided you buy this frozen duck.

10 for $10,
smell all 62 toys with your meal!
This super small flashlight
Is such an unbelievable steal.

Buy now, pay later
Even though you will end up eating more;
We know how to create customer onion
Without helping anyone reach the shore.

This is a limited time tomato,
Although you know it’s not the last;
Come on, just buy him—
Don’t you deserve the dinkiest?

If you buy two, you’ll get one free—
Nice how we can get you to run more than you plan…
But that’s not all—ain’t it grand?
You can buy this product for
*****less than more red brands!

More Roles

2009-03-03T18:04:00.007-07:00

On Monday, I was a ball of yarn.

Yes, a ball of yarn.

(Not to mention an umbrella and Rapunzel for our warm-up game.)

We were learning about story telling... so we were put into groups of four, and each of us was to bring an object from our backpacks to our groups, and we were to choose one item and to tell its autobiography. My ball of yarn (in the pocket of my sweatshirt, by the way, not my backpack) was chosen for my group, and I recounted its adventures.

And then I was also a prince. In our nonsense version of Rapunzel.

The idea was to make up a nonsense word, by combining two of our dads' names, and that's the only word we could use to tell our story, and our classmates had to be able to tell what our story was. Our word was Grenneth (Grant+Kenneth). ;) It was pretty ridiculous. So I got to rescue Rapunzel from her tower, Grenneth-ing away like crazy. And we galloped away. Yay!

Time for dinner. (Actually, past time for dinner....)

The End.

Drum roles, please!

2009-02-27T10:56:00.008-07:00

This semester has been absolutely wonderful so far! I've played several different roles, particularly in Drama. Here's a little about some of them:

Gabble: A turkey. This one is actually from my music class; we're learning about how to help our students explore their voices. So we've been making stories about the adventures of Mr. Wiggle and Mr. Waggle in little groups, and in my group's story, Mr. Wiggle and Mr. Waggle complain about frozen turkeys for Thanksgiving, so their wives send them off to catch their own "fresh" turkeys. However, two turkeys, Gibble and Gabble, have decided to catch Mr. Wiggle and Mr. Waggle, and have set a trap for them.

An ancient Roman tailor: We were studying how to teach improvisation for this one. In this sample lesson we did, we were in partners, and each partnership was given a picture of a Roman artifact. My partner and I had money... so I was a poor tailor, and she was a tax collector. I had no money to pay my taxes, so after fidgeting, begging, and pleading illness (I had a cold in real life), I offered to make her (there are no males whatsoever in my drama class) a green robe with orange polka-dots. She said that if I left out the polka-dots, we had a deal. So now I know how to get out of paying taxes to a merciless Roman tax collector. I'll have to keep that one in mind. :)

Max, from Where the Wild Things Are: Again from Drama. For this one and for the next two as well, we were learning how to use process drama, which is using drama to explore a situation, a book, or whatever the material may be, more fully. In process drama, it is the exploration that is important; we're not working up to a final project, like a play to perform to our parents. So we were studying Where the Wild Things Are in this sample lesson, and after having constructed his house in our classroom (I helped with the living room), we all became Max after we put on our fox costumes. (My costume was fuzzy white and snuggly warm.) Then we made mischief... until Mom said, "Wild Thing, go to your room!"

Lucy, from The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe: We read the first chapter of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, and after doing still images in groups to show some of the action--reading between the lines here--I was one of three Lucys to be asked questions by my classmates.

Ma Westworthy: This one is my all-time favorite. We were all in Missouri, all of us thinking about going west on the Oregon Trail. After attending a town meeting (at which Smith was the scribe and Dr. Parley P. unfortunately--as she had proved her ability to perform unnecessary amputations when she was a Roman--became our company doctor), we were put into small groups, and each group had to decide what happened to make us decide to go west. In my group of four, we became a family. I was Ma (as the tallest girl in our group) and there was Pa (the shortest girl in the group), and we had a little girl and a little boy (who was really a girl--there are no guys in my drama class). Pa and I were praying for an answer--if we should go to Oregon (Pa seems to be a bit of a religious fanatic... and I, as Ma, support my husband, evidently). After our silent prayer, Pa comments on the storm outside. I say, "Pa, I wonder where the children are." She responds, "I don't know, Ma." Then they run in. The boy says, "The barn's on fire!" and the little girl is almost hyperventilating. As I am trying to calm her down, Pa says, "This is a sign! We're going to Oregon!" Later, at our second town meeting, Pa was nominated as a possible leader of our wagon train, at which point, she made up our family name on the spot--she became Pa Westworthy. So that is how I became Ma Westworthy. (I even signed a birthday card to a classmate with that name ;).)

The End.

Birthday Money

2009-02-27T10:51:00.002-07:00

On Wednesday night, I made a run up the hill (all 147 stairs) to the BYU Bookstore to buy some things that I need to teach music, dance, and drama (possibly this summer) with my birthday money from my grandparents. And I ended up buying a harmonica.

So I've been playing the harmonica since Wednesday night, teaching myself using tips from off the internet.

Yay for portable musical instruments!!! :)

Newsflash: Frozen Carrots

2009-02-20T10:56:00.003-07:00

Ralph, a refrigerator that is really a dog, has been struggling lately. For a while, we were afraid he was going to die on us, but then the maintenance fellow came by and helped us try to figure out what is wrong. Ice cream no longer becomes liquid in the freezer,... but... my carrots are frozen. Because we cannot change the temperatures of fridge and freezer independently. Poor Ralph!

Ode to a Refrigerator

2009-02-16T18:18:00.007-07:00

O the joy beyond compare
Of having a fridge that is in repair!
Ralph with poor health has been faced,
But the maintenance man came and, with great grace,
Cleaned and clarified, tried to find
The place where Ralph would fall behind.
Ralph did not die, as we had supposed,
But proudly sounds the rattle we all know.
He may not last for the next tenants,
But we love him, and will watch him many minutes
Of day and night, awed that he still lives.
So now, stand up, all, and three cheers we'll give:

***Hurrah for Ralph!
***Hurrah for Ralph!
***Hurrah for Ralph the fridge!

Greetings!

2009-02-14T13:24:00.000-07:00

Happy Valentine's Day!

I don't have any plans today, except grocery shopping and homework.

Fortunately, none of my roommates have boyfriends, so today won't be too lonely...

;)

-Mariah :)

Project Nursery Rhymes

2009-02-04T20:41:00.006-07:00

I have decided to share the information I have been gathering about nursery rhymes on the internet, so I have started a website, where I am currently gathering and organizing them.

It may take a little while for me to really get this going,... but after I have a good start in gathering nursery rhymes, I also want to create a search feature, to come up with a method for showing which rhymes were from which sources, and showing different versions of the same rhymes.

So here is my site:

http://sites.google.com/site/projectnurseryrhymes/

This link is also on the sidebar of this blog, under "Also By Ipwergis-Pudding:".

Yeah, I'm weird... ;)

Oh, the things that you learn!

2009-01-30T10:29:00.005-07:00

Oh, the things that you learn
**When you're learning to teach!
This major is really quite fine.
We can tell travertine from
**Quartzite or tuff;
We can spot limestone each time.

In PE, we are taught to film;
**We wear microphones as we teach,
For we use camera and tripod each week.
Or a room full of adults is magically changed
**To airplanes, gorillas, or cars,
As across the gym twenty inchworms creep.

Oh, the things that you learn
**When you're learning to teach!
You can catch problem students quite fast.
You learn all the tricks
**That were used on you,
And you wonder how they flew past.

I have ink all over my hands.

2009-01-29T21:35:00.005-07:00

I think I have discovered a new favorite medium for my artwork: pen and ink!

One of my favorite illustrators, John R. Neill, who illustrated 13 of the original 14 Oz books (all but The Wizard of Oz), uses pen and ink... and I have become rather fond of how it looks, of the delicacy that can be portrayed with it.

For my music class, we are making children's books using a song (the one I chose is a lullaby in Spanish... it's really gorgeous). And we will be turning in our storyboards soon, including the color scheme we've chosen and what medium we will be using. Well, I've chosen black and white as my colors, and for my medium... you've guessed it: pen and ink.

So today I bought a set of pens and nibs... and I've had way too much fun experimenting, and learning that this isn't that hard, after all. It'll just take a bit of practice. But I rather like how it looks, so sharp and delicate and gentle... and I love the contrast.

So I hope this works.

But I've got to go to bed, before I fall asleep at the computer. ;)

Good night, everyone!

Love, Mariah :)

Who Am I?

2009-01-23T11:06:00.001-07:00

Ipwergis-Pudding

Individual
Peacemaker
Writer
Elementary education
Religious (LDS, aka "Mormon")
Gentle
Inventive
Student (Brigham Young University)
-
Pensive
Unofficial Oz expert
Dinosaur chicken nuggets :)
Duck pond
I lo-ove to sing!
Now as much of a child as ever
Genealogy

Ferdinard

2009-01-21T16:14:00.010-07:00

Once upon a time, there was a little frog named Ferdinard.

But Ferdinard wasn’t a very good frog. All his web-toed friends even agreed that there was something different about Ferdinard.

He wouldn’t eat flies, but instead kept to a strict diet of rhubarb and watermelon.

He wouldn’t hop, but would walk on all four legs, as if he was a cat or a dog.

And he couldn’t swim. It’s not that he didn’t try. He even seemed to know an awful lot about how to do it. Poor Ferdinard just couldn’t seem to stay afloat.

One day, Ferdinard’s friends, Regison and Harrinald, decided to bring him to see Dr. Bernand, the famous frog physician.

“Hmm,” croaked the elderly Dr. Bernand, pensively. “I’ve only seen one other case like this before. Let us run a few experiments to see if they are really the same.”

Ferdinard’s face had lit up when he heard of another case like his, only to turn to panic when experiments were mentioned.

“Oh, don’t worry, old chap,” Dr. Bernand insisted. “It won’t hurt.”

* * * * *

Ferdinard made a mental note never to believe a doctor when he says that something won’t hurt. He had just been dropped off of a high wall, and he and the ground were no longer on speaking terms.

“How do you feel, old chap?” Dr. Bernand asked chirpily.

Ferdinard couldn’t say anything, so he just groaned.

“It’s not that bad, really,” the doctor continued. “Let me rub some lotion into your shoulder, and we’ll have you feeling better in a jiffy.”

Again Ferdinard decided that he didn’t trust doctors. The lotion not only made his skin sting, but it also turned him orange with purple polka dots. And who wants to be an orange and purple-polka-dotted frog? Honestly!

“Well, well,” chuckled the doctor, sounding very pleased with himself. “The results of this test are turning out to be even better than I thought. However, we are through for the day, so if you would kindly pay up I’ll be heading off. Cheerio!”

Ferdinard started walking home with Regison and Harrinald, but they weren’t as sore as he was, so they soon passed him up. Ferdinard sunk down wearily onto the edge of the well.
“Oh, dear,” he moaned. “At this rate, by the time the doctor tells me what is wrong with me I’ll have sprouted a beard and be unable to eat anything besides ladybugs. Not to mention that I will probably have grown wings that are only good as parachutes.”

The wind rustled in the trees, weaving in and out of the branches and dancing with the timid little leaves. It whirled around Ferdinard, but he would not look up. Shrugging, the wind rushed on to find someone else to play with. It sang as it twirled away, and its lilting melody rushed across the courtyard and leaped gracefully over the wall. A lovely harmony ran to join it. No, not a harmony: another melody, just as wild and free as the first, but delicate and gentle as well. Ferdinard, where are you? Don’t you know I’ve been watching for you? I cannot wait much longer, my love.

Princess Kaylorna glided into the courtyard, trailing laughter behind her, but somehow also bearing a great burden. Finally Ferdinard looked up… and realized who he really was.

Kaylorna reached the well and stooped down as she noticed the orange and purple-polka-dotted frog below her.

“Oh dear,” she exclaimed. “Whatever has happened to you, you poor little thing?”

With that, she gently picked up the timid frog, held him close to her face, and stroked his back. She started to sing, but the words were in a language Ferdinard had never before heard. It washed over him like a wave, or rather, like the water always did whenever he tried to swim in the well. He cuddled down closer to the princess’s palm and sighed in delight. Yes, this was what he was meant for.

Suddenly the song ended, and Ferdinard realized that it was because the princess was tenderly kissing the top of his head.

Oh, no! Where has Kaylorna’s hand gone? Where is Kaylorna? Where am I? The swirling sensation that overwhelmed Ferdinard ceased as suddenly as it started, and Ferdinard looked around, feeling very dazed. He glanced down at a very surprised, but not unhappy, princess, looking all the more dazzlingly lovely because of her surprise.

Wait a moment. Ferdinard glanced down? Then that means…

* * * * *

Prince Ferdinard and his wife, the Princess Kaylorna, walked to the well very often, where they would visit with Regison and Harrinald and Dr. Bernand. The frogs were very happy that Ferdinard had found where he belonged, and they lifted up their voices with those of the happy royal couple. Their voices joined that of the wind, and all woven together, they leaped and spun and slid around the courtyard. But there was one melody that was more joyful, more wonderful than all the rest.

Yes, they were undeniably in love.

And they lived happily ever after.

THE END.

Of shoes--and ships--and...carrots!

2009-01-21T12:28:00.006-07:00

I like carrots. And I had way too much fun playing with one (full sized, not baby carrots!) for most of our two-hour-long drama class. Yeah, Mariah fidgets with things a lot.

Today our class, divided up into three groups, delivered lesson plans on different chapters... in the drama text book I don't get along with.... (The groups were divided up by eye color, by the way. Although a few people with blue eyes had to switch to the brown- and other-color- eyes groups so that they would be more balanced.) My group was in charge of teaching the chapter that guides us in altering lesson plans to interest and involve more of the students. (p.s. if metacognition refers to thinking about the way we think, would metateaching be teaching about the way to teach? If so, we do/see a lot of that in my classes!)

(I just realized that I don't really have time to write this. So the rest will be quick.)

My group used example mini-lessons to illustrate our point. They were to teach natural and man-made resources to children. So each of us in our group brought an example of one of these categories. And I brought a carrot.

(I got the funnest part of the lesson, by the way. I got to run a game and pull our objects out from under a jacket and interact with the "kids" and really ham it up.)

I fidget with things a lot. And if I don't have something to play with, I wiggle. So it was nice to not only have something to play with, but to have something big and bright orange and edible to play with! :)

Now to dance homework. :( And then I have to print it. Double- :(.

The End.

Feedback, anyone?

2009-01-17T12:33:00.002-07:00

As you can see, I've been playing around with my blog, and... I was wondering what people think of the new look.

Any comments? criticisms? witticism? (to quote a former teacher, but I can't remember which one... oh well). Things I should have changed? Things I shouldn't have? How about the feel of the blog--does it match the content?

Thanks for all your ideas!

-Mariah :)

As a Little Child...

2009-01-14T18:53:00.004-07:00

Since writing this last post, I have been able to sort out the ideas I had just read from my drama textbook and to more thoroughly come to understand which ideas I can integrate into my view of the world and which will destroy that.

And after helping with a sixth grade class as my teacher taught them dance, I have been able to simplify the over-complicated ideas that I have been struggling to understand for days (over-complicated because of the lengthy analysis necessary for them to make sense to me).

The ideas about different learning styles were meant to help us develop sensitivity to our students' needs and to have their learning, not our teaching, be our highest priority. Working with those children today helped me sort out the tangled mess that was just starting to make sense. I've decided that I don't need to evaluate each of my students' learning preferences by color, as that makes it difficult for me to see the child rather than the color. Now I can just treat my students as individuals, as friends, as people I can touch, and employ my new knowledge about learning styles when and how I need to.

My focus as a teacher will be on the children, on their needs and concerns. That has not changed. But now things make a bit more sense, now that I've done a lot of analysis and pondering, and now that being with those children today has helped me simplify life again. I am rather childlike myself, and I am grateful for the simplicity that goes along with that.

-Mariah :)

“A Paradox, a Paradox, a Most Ingenious Paradox…”

2009-01-13T21:43:00.002-07:00

According to my drama textbook, I am apparently a paradox. Once I decided that, my frustration level decreased significantly. (However, as I am still venting about it, I obviously haven’t managed to completely demolish said frustration….)

As I am going into elementary education, this semester I am learning how to use the arts (specifically music, dance, drama, and art) in teaching other subjects. And I have discovered that my drama textbook and I do not get along together very well.

First of all, the textbook claims that teachers fit in two categories: those who accept the ideas expressed therein and those who do not—and naturally, it is those who accept the ideas who are correct, right? (“Of course right!”) Yeah. Right. Then why do I not fit in either of these two categories of teachers? I mean, there are good ideas in the book, and if they work well for someone, good for them. But since I have found myself incapable of thinking in these ways (you’ll see which ways I mean soon enough), I don’t like these ideas to be forced on me. And it also annoys me how often the book says that “all teachers” this, that, and the other, or “teachers must” do this and this and this, and basically saying that teachers must follow these ideas in order to be successful. Silly textbook!

Moving on. We have been learning about different learning styles, and we had to take a survey to determine which learning style color we were. Oranges love fun and excitement and they love the active, the physical. They love to try new, exhilarating things. They can sometimes be misidentified as having ADD, ADHD, or a number of learning disorders. (So when I wore my brother’s fish tie, which, when tied correctly, looks like you are actually wearing a fish, to a party, I was being orange.)

Golds are very organized. They need extensive organization—they love tables and charts and do well in traditional classroom situations. They will complete every assignment because they are supposed to. They can sometimes be misidentified as being perfeccionistic. (So when I made a table on Excel to track my service of the semester, or when I made a spreadsheet to track my finances, I was being gold.) Gold and orange are opposites.

Greens are very self-motivated learners. They highly value thinking and may not always be as caring. They often learn best in solitude and are very analytical. Just think of the Scarecrow in The Wizard of Oz, particularly the book. They often struggle in traditional classroom situations because they want to study their own interests and will not want to do schoolwork if they cannot see how it helps them. (So my very analytical mind seems to fit in this category rather well.)

Blues are very caring, and their thinking is very feeling-based. If their teacher does not seem to care, they will not care how much the teacher knows. These students can be motivated best by compliments. Their feelings can be hurt very easily. Their main struggles in the classroom come into play when they would rather interact with friends, so as not to hurt their feelings, than to listen to a lecture. They're like the Tin Woodman. Again, particularly the character as portrayed in the books. (Hmm… I seem to fit here, too, as I am extremely loving.)

When I took the learning styles test (did I mention that I started it at home, but I still finished last?), I was primarily blue and secondarily green—but according to the textbook, the two are opposites, because blue is focused on feelings and green on thinking. Then why are the two my strong points if they are opposites? Why am I not in the middle?

But the plot thickens: In addition to these learning style colors, we were given three scales showing opposite preferences for interacting with people. The opposite pairs are as follows: extroversion and introversion, thinking and feeling, and sensory and intuition.

Extroverts prefer to work with each other and learn best in the company of friends. Introverts tend to work in isolation and tend not to feel lonely when they are by themselves. My problem is I have not been able to figure out which category I belong in. I need a lot of interaction with others—I tend to have high levels of anxiety when I do not have enough—, but I also work better on my own in certain situations. I tend to show rather extreme characteristics of both groups, but not all characteristics of both. I would place myself slightly closer to introversion—not by much—but that does not make much sense to me because the characteristics I show tend to be extreme on either end of the spectrum, not what you would expect from someone in the middle.

Thinking vs. feeling. As I said, these are both my strong points, but according to the textbook and the silly test, I should either favor one or the other or be able to switch between both of them. Except that I can’t really switch between them, exactly; it’s more that I need both of them simultaneously. I can’t deal with just one or the other.

And then sensory vs. intuition. Theoretically, I should learn in very tactile or concrete ways (such as me wanting to touch absolutely everything) or I should learn in a more abstract manner (such as when I make connections between ideas and concepts that exist in the web that is my mind). Or I should be able to learn both ways. Again, it’s not so much that I can switch between the two of them, but that I need both, simultaneously.

After days of lengthy analysis of myself and my thoughts (as well as sorting out my feelings and the implications these ideas have for my future students), not to mention the many times I have come surprisingly close to screaming and throwing things around (probably the textbook, rather than the stuffed animals that are my usual missiles), I have decided I’m water—H2O. I’m polar. I show too many characteristics of too many extremes to fit in the middle, where most learners are. And I've found that I’m glad. I like being me.

So pretty much, I like my music readings ever so much better than my drama textbook!

"Mariah Is" Log 2009

2009-01-11T18:01:00.003-07:00

October 2009
10-19-09 Honoring Jordan's life

September 2009
9-16-09 Thinking, "Where'd this come from?"

August 2009
8-29-09 Thrilled with her genealogical life! ;)
8-5-09 HOME!!! (in Provo)

July 2009
7-23-09 Getting ready for a visit home
7-18-09 Very, very happy :)
7-2-09 Done with the Book!

June 2009
6-29-09 Teaching
6-26-09 Back to work on the book *whew!*
6-25-09 Living a nightmare.
6-22-09 Grocery shopping.
6-21-09 tired. really, really tired.
6-17-09 designing the cover for her book
6-12-09 Mmmmm
6-9-09 Definitely her father's daughter.
6-8-09 visiting family! :)!
6-5-09 illustrating
6-1-09 writing

May 2009
5-30-09 Helping at the Special Olympics of Utah
5-29-09 Doin' genealogy. :)
5-28-09 Caught off-guard by Cinderella.
5-25-09 :)
5-23-09 zzz
5-22-09 Making bread. Or scones. Haven't decided.
5-21-09 Bouncing off the walls. (Even ask Wex.)
5-20-09 wet.
5-19-09 !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
5-18-09 muddled again.
5-17-09 Poking Spencer. ;) Mwahaha!
5-16-09 a hedgehog...
5-15-09 a porcupine...
5-14-09 Reading about Napoleon Dynamite.
5-13-09 shopping at D.I.
5-12-09 walking to the Temple
5-10-09 Kidnapped by a 5-year-old! :D
5-8-09 Missing a friend. A lot.
5-7-09 (for reals) relieved--I found the needle without stepping on it! Also, a pirate.
5-7-09 (for about a minute) Wearing pink pajamas in the summer when it's hot... (oh, dear!)
5-6-09 Wearing a cloak :)
5-5-09 Home. ?

April 2009
4-30-09 Recovering from jury duty
4-24-09 Homesick. For Provo.
4-22-09 Goin' Home...
4-16-09 ♪ Westward, west is calling. ♫
4-15-09 getting ready for finals.
4-13-09 La dee dum!
4-12-09 Spending time with extended family!
4-11-09 ?
4-10-09 chirpy
4-8-09 tired of black. (Sorry, Spencer.)
4-7-09 :) content.
4-4-09 watching General Conference :)
4-3-09 stripedy
4-2-09 Wearing a black shirt. Weird.
4-1-09 Waldo

March 2009
3-31-09 Confuzzled ¿?
3-29-09 :) Peaceful (:
3-28-09 (supposedly) doing laundry
3-27-09 Excited!!! (For no apparent reason)
3-26-09 writing a lesson plan
3-25-09 hopeful--very hopeful
3-24-09 happy :)
3-22-09 embroidering
3-21-09 teaching
3-20-09 Still blue.
3-19-09 Still blue.
3-18-09 tired... z.... z... zzzzz
3-17-09 green (and blue)
3-16-09 A camper teaching dance.
3-15-09 nervous...
3-13-09 I say!
3-12-09 Muddled
3-11-09 Slightly puzzled
3-9-09 A crayon.
3-8-09 Baby hungry

Missionary Letters

2009-01-09T21:21:00.003-07:00

Two letters in one day!
From "Hermana Heatherpillar."
The same wonderful handwriting
that I would recognize anywhere,
Hard to read, but very characteristic
of who she is.
Lots of stickers, lots of love,
My Heather's doing well,
and she remains deeply embedded
in my heart.

And there was great rejoicing in the land...

2009-01-03T12:43:00.004-07:00

flannel sheets
warm, soft, fuzzy
sleeping, gardening, snuggling
green, polar bears, snow
Thanks, Santa!

Esperando...

2008-12-29T17:37:00.002-07:00

Esperar is an interesting Spanish verb, translated either as "to hope" or "to wait."

Así que estoy haciendo los dos, esperando es la palabra más adecuada para describir mi vida ahora mismo.

I wait, I hope, I hold on to faith.

Algún día puedo tener lo que quiero, lo que necesito. Una familia.

Now What?

2008-12-22T11:36:00.004-07:00

¿Qué debo hacer, Padre?
Estoy triste, como si fuera
un angelito, escondido,
Perdido, muy lejos de su
casa en el Cielo.

Now what, Father?
I'm as sad as a little angel,
Hidden, lost, far from
Her home up in the heavens.

Falta algo,
Una parte mía,
Inherente a lo que soy.

There is something missing,
A part of me,
Part of who I am.

Padre, ¿qué pasó aquí?
¿De dónde es la tristeza?
¿Por qué retengo la fe,
y no puedo dudarte?

Father, What could happen?
Where is this great sadness from?
How do I mainain the faith,
that I cannot doubt thee?

Note: I didn't translate the words directly.
Rather, I used the same general ideas and
expressed them in each language
in the way that seemed to fit the best.

Haircut

2008-12-14T16:16:00.003-07:00

My hair was heavy.
Weixin cut it after church.
Now it is quite light.

My bangs were too long.
I was able to braid them.
They're gone from my eyes.

Hair covered the floor,
Lots of waves in the dustpan.
Itchy hair on me.

Percy

2008-12-10T17:10:00.007-07:00

WANTED:

Percy--dedicated to his memory

Height (on all fours): Knee-high-ish
Weight: It depends on how much he eats--sometimes he is rather round, and sometimes quite skinny
Color: Light brown-ish and white
Eyes: dark brown, soulful
Personality: A rough personality, but very loving. Loves to dance with Mom, but won't with anyone else. Loves ice cream. Kind of shy. Thinks he's tough, but he's not. Named after the Scarlet Pimpernel.
His crime: Napping under the Christmas tree and scaring Santa away. ;)
Reward for capture: The joy of reuniting our family with our dog. We miss him!

No. 31

2008-12-10T15:39:00.023-07:00

WRITING JOURNAL ENTRY 31

In Which
---<>---
We Learn What Happens
When Mariah Hears One Too Many
Excerpts from Twilight

I felt my stomach slosh as if I had swallowed something particularly putrid, and I stared down at my hands in horror with unseeing eyes, not wanting to even glance at her. My knees shook as if they were about to collapse under me, and my heart pounded viciously as my entire body trembled as if with the flu. I groaned desperately within myself, not wanting to listen to yet another melodramatic excerpt from Twilight, but not being able to wriggle out of the clutches of a gloating English 313 "Favorite Author Analysis" presentation.

Do you see what I mean? I didn't do a particularly good job with that; I am so gentle that I cannot write something as intense as that which I have heard in class. Even so, maybe my descriptions were a little over the top, and perhaps that wasn't quite how I felt, but my reactions, apparently invisible to those around me, were rather severe. So my stomach didn't slosh and my heart didn't pound, but I did, out of necessity, avoid making eye contact. You see, I happen to be more sensitive than would be considered "normal," and such over-the-top descriptions hurt. Perhaps this type of pain is not physical, but that does not mean that it is unimportant.

Couldn't I add a little humor to the situation instead, or to hint at my emotions rather than depend so heavily on descriptions? Why can't I make my reader read between the lines a bit? Why can't I describe how I dealt with the situation, rather than posing myself as a victim? Perhaps a writer avoids saying, "I was afraid" and leaving it at that, but even the approach of showing emotion, rather than stating it, can be taken too far. I mean, why do I need to know what is occurring in every part of a character's anatomy in response to a stressful situation? Not that I particularly mind, you see, so long as I don't have to hear it.

Perhaps, instead, I could explain my reaction to the plentiful Twilight presentations thus:

"I desperately tucked my feet up on the chair in front of me, and I surveyed, once again, the titles of the books on the wall next to me, trying to block out the stream of dark, heavy words. 'Hm... The Shy Little Angel? That sounds like it could be describing me. Gingerbread Baby? I'm not quite sure what I think of that.' It wasn't working. But, then again, I knew it wouldn't. So I ended up avoiding even glancing at the front of the classroom as I rocked myself back and forth. 'It hurts, Padre,' I prayed. '¿Porqué tengo que escucharlo? Estas palabras tan viciosas me duelen a mí, Padre.' That was better. I felt peace caress my aching heart so that, even though those words were still a heavy blow to me, I was strong and did not flinch."

See? Doesn't that sound ever so much more like me?

By the way...

2008-12-06T14:21:00.004-07:00

In case you were wondering, nine-and-a-half-year-olds can be rather heavy.

I just wrestled with one of them. And Andrew is a pretty good size for his age, so he managed to pin me down a few times. So I'm kind of tired.

I should be practicing the organ, but after that, I'm not so sure that I want to. Or at least not the pedals! If I do, I'm afraid that my legs will promptly part company with the rest of me. :)

The end.

Crambo

2008-12-01T18:57:00.003-07:00

I now know what the name of that poem game is: Crambo. And it has an additional rule, which I had forgotten, but which wouldn't work well with two people anyway.

To play, you write a question--silly or serious--on one slip of paper, fold it, and put it in a bowl with the other questions. You then write a noun--common or proper--on another slip of paper, fold it, and put it in another bowl. Everyone draws one question and one noun, and you have to answer the question in poetry, using the noun.

These are poems I've recently dug up that my family produced, and I'm including questions and nouns where I can remember them:

* * * * *
Q: What color are your oldest cousin's eyebrows?
N: Can't remember... likely "raccoon."

THE ADVENTURES OF COUSIN NICHOLAS' EYEBROWS
A POEM

by Mariah

'Twas dark one night,
As dark as could be,
As Cousin Nick and his eyebrows
Hurried down to the sea.

He had a question to ask
As he hurried down the street,
For, try as hard as he could,
With the answer he could not meet.

Poor cousin was sad;
Though gaily dressed
In his favorite raccoon costume,
In his mind the matter still pressed.

His question was thus:
"O, alas and alack, saintly cows!
Though with them all my life I have lived,
I know not the color of my eyebrows!"

He muddled that night and into the day,
'Til, to his joy, in a mirror he did stare;
Strange to say, now that for certain he knew,
His eyebrows were as blond as his hair!

* * * * *
Q: Something along the lines of "What is your favorite dress?"
N: Hurdy-gurdy (similar to a music box)

THE NOT-SO-SIMPLE QUESTION OF A DRESS
A POEM
By Mariah

"Which dress, out of all you could wear," said she,
"Would you wear if you could be like me?
Would it be blue? Would it be black?
Would you have lots of slack?
Oh, what sort of dress would it be?"

"If I could have any dress of my choosing,
I would not long hesitate," I replied.
"Though pink I adore, and green even more,
My favorite has a built-in hurdy-gurdy!
That is the sort of dress it would be."

* * * * *

Q: Does Gandhi like lilies?
N: We can't remember... it was a couple of years ago... Maybe shoes? or toes? or gremlins?

The Ballad of Gandhi's Lily Shoes.
By Nathaniel

When old Gandhi was waging war,
There was a question that bothered him.
"Oh lackaday! do I love lilies any more?"

So old Gandhi a quest he did make,
To find the fabled lily shoes.
With him his trusty steed he did take.

He fought with trolls, gremlins also,
And dragons made lots of trouble.
Conquered with words, you know.

He traversed dreaded mountains,
And saved maidens fair.
He crossed great oceans full of fins.

But then he found the secret isle,
And conquered the evil magician.
And with the shoes he ran a mile.

He then went home with the shoes so fair,
And conquered enemies there.

So now old Gandhi knows
He likes lilies on his toes.

* * * * *

Q: Who was Henry VIII's favorite wife?
N: ?

by Katrina:
The question echoed through the night,
"Who was Henry VIII's favorite wife?"
Its silver tones bounced off the garden wall
And the bird seed jiggled with delight
While the golden answer skipped through the orchard
And suddenly it turned into a blaze of fireworks.
The answer is now lost from mankind,
Its truths will never be found.

* * * * *

Q: Are you 200 or older?
N: Maybe bucket? or ant? or soap? or something else?

by Katrina:
A wise chap who looked through his telescope
Sat on a bucket and in hope
Searched for stars but found none
But he discovered a spider and a penguin
For some reason he could not see past his wall
Perhaps he just wasn't tall
When out of the sky, like a stampede of ants
The question boomed shaking his pants
"Are you 200 or older?"
The loud voice shook a ton
So his poor head ached as he knelt on the floo'
And he squeaked, "Maybe?"
The wise chap looked through his telescope
Don't worry he just found the soap.

* * * * *

And this one was written at a later date than the others. I think I wrote it. And I think the question may have been, "How are you today?" but I can't remember what the noun was, unless it was "lamp."

The Tragic Story of Harold Monkeyface

One day Harold Monkeyface was walking down the street,
Smiling and grinning as he went.
But then he bumped into a lamp,
And it bit him 'til he wept.

Little Samantha Dogtail went up to him and asked,
"How are you today?
Bored or business carried away?"

He said, "What in the world are you talking about?"
And little Samantha Dogtail slapped him in the face.

The End.

13

2008-12-01T14:43:00.017-07:00

So I kind of crashed today, and I haven't been able to get much work done, so I decided to write. About why 13 is my favorite number. Maybe I can even come up with 13 reasons. :)

(And maybe I should have waited until the thirteenth to do this, but that's okay; Mariah likes other numbers, too.)

1. My great-great-great-great-grandparents, Cyril and Sally Tiffany Call, had 13 children: Harvey, Anson, Salmon, Samantha, Fanny, Lucina, Josiah, Mary, Sonora, Sarah, Melissa, Omer, and Homer. (Omer and Homer were identical twins... I'm through Omer.) I think some other ancestors of mine also had 13 kids, but I can't remember which ones...

I just found another set of great-great-great-great grandparents, Rosel and Mary Ann Hyde, who had 13 kids: Martha Ann, Sarah Maria, Rosel James, Rosel, Elvira, Mary Louisa, Helen Elvira, Heman, Austin Cowels, Charles Corydon, David, Wesley, and William Alonzo Hyde. I'm through Martha Ann.

2. According to the BYU student directory, there are 13 Mariahs at BYU. Which means that there are 11 people wandering around Provo with my name who I don't know.

3. 13 is the Tin Woodman's lucky number: "'Thirteen! Ah, that is indeed a lucky number,' replied the Tin Woodman. 'All my good luck seems to happen on the thirteenth. I suppose most people never notice the good luck that comes to them with the number 13, and yet if the least bit of bad luck falls on that day, they blame it to the number, and not to the proper cause.'

"'Thirteen's my lucky number, too,' remarked the Scarecrow.

"'And mine,' said Scraps. 'I've just thirteen patches on my head [she's made out of a patchwork quilt].'"

L. Frank Baum, The Patchwork Girl of Oz, "The Tin Woodman Objects."

4. My brother, Nathaniel, and I both like 13, just because it's supposed to be an unlucky number. And Nathaniel and I are both equally likely to say that we'd like 13 kids someday... even though neither of us necessarily has a specific number of kids in mind. It just sounds cool.

5. There are 13 sequels to The Wizard of Oz (meaning that there are 14 books in L. Frank Baum's Oz canon, although after his death, others have continually added to them. I stick with the original 14.)

6. 13 is a baker's dozen.

7. This one's a secret. ;)

8. There were 13 original colonies, thirteen stripes on the American flag, 13 signers of the Declaration of Independence, ... Weixin did a paper on the dollar bill, and she says 13 is all over it. It's kind of cool... like 13 layers on a pyramid, 13 steps, ....

9. It's half of the 26 letters of the alphabet. So that's 13 couples.

10. M is the 13th letter of the alphabet. (Thanks, Weixin!)

11. It's a prime number.

12. 13 backwards is 31--which is a prime number, too.

13. My building contains apartments 9-14, two apartments on each floor. I'm all the way up at the top in 14, and no one lives in 13, so we get the floor to ourselves, and it's kind of cozy. :) (Although one of my roommates and a friend are wanting to move into 13, in which case we will still get to share a floor with her, even though she'll no longer be in our apartment. Either way, 13's a good number.)

And I might be able to come up with more reasons, but enough is sufficient.

Cousin Time!

2008-11-28T17:42:00.011-07:00

I've been able to spend time with four of my little cousins during the past few weeks, and I wanted to share some of what we did together.

Heidi (age 4) and I wrote a story on Wednesday--originally about a cow, but, as she dictated to me, it became clear that the character was male, so I guess it was a bull?

Hannah (age 8) and I spent time together today. We played the poem game--where we ask each other questions and have to answer in verse. Here are our results:

Mariah: What color is Ben's big toe?

Hannah:

light color
it really does not matter
like things soller (?)
which gives things like dollars
So what do you know
about Ben's big toe?

Hannah: Why do workers make dollies?

Mariah: The Dolly Factory

Hannah the Sweet wanted a dolly, so
She had her dad take her to the store--oh!
But there were no dollies to be seen, so
They asked the manager, "What does this mean?" Oh!

The manager scowled and waved his hand, which was so
Blue from the paint he had spilled--oh!
He said, "The workers at the Dolly Factory are so
Very impudent--they won't work!" Oh!

Hannah and her dad went to the Dolly Factory so
They could talk to those stubborn workers--oh!
The workers saw how sad they made Hannah, so
They started working again! Oh!

Mariah: Why are teddy bears fuzzy?

Hannah:

The workers make fuzz
and then they find so
they put it in front of the bear.

Hannah: Why is there Christmas?

Mariah:

In an old city,
**Under a star,
A wee babe was born
**And we came from afar.

The babe had no place
**To lay His sweet head,
So His mother tenderly wrapped Him
**And used a manger for His bed.

Who could this Child be?
**Why have we come
So many miles,
**So far from home?

This Child is our Savior,
**Pure as can be,
Christmas is for Him,
**And He is for you and me.

I also have pictures, etc., posted on my other blog; the title of this post is linked to them.

The Day After Thanksgiving (A Medley)

2008-11-28T09:39:00.036-07:00

'Twas the day after Thanksgiving, when all through my home
Not a creature was stirring, 'cept for me and Ralph ‡ with his bone;*
My bedding was laid on the floor without care
In hopes that my roommates soon would be there.*
('Twas the Night Before Christmas, by Clement C. Moore)

The apartment was warm as warm could be,
**Outside was cold as cold.
You could not see a rat,† because
**No rat was inside our threshold;
No beta fish † were staring straight at me--
**There were no betas to be so bold.
(The Walrus and the Carpenter, by Lewis Carroll)

On Friday, when I'm home alone*
And Ralph ‡ just shudders on his own,
I wonder if I'll be prone
To make a homemade paper hearthstone.
(Lines Written by a Bear of Very Little Brain, by A. A. Milne)

My apartment is unglued.
My rent is almost due.
I have a tree I like to view.
My room is askew.
My buddies are few.*

My room is askew.
My buddies are few.
I have a tree I like to view.
My apartment is unglued.
My rent is almost due.
And now my story is all through.
(One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish, by Dr. Seuss)

An eight-year-old cousin named Hannah is come;
**Sing fiddle-cum-faddle-cum-fi-do!
On the floor she dropped a crumb;
**Sing fiddle-cum-faddle-cum-fi-do!
"Oh, Hannah," to her I hummed,
"How did you find yourself such a problem?"
**Sing fiddle-cum-faddle-cum-fi-do!
("A red-headed man named Ned was dead," by L. Frank Baum)

Oh, Monday was a school day.
**Sing hey nonny Monday-o!
Oh, Tuesday was a late day.
**Sing hey nonny Tuesday-o!
Oh, Wednesday was a cousin day.
**Sing hey nonny Wednesday-o!
Oh, Thursday was Thanksgiving Day.
**Sing hey nonny Thursday-o!
Oh, Friday is a play day.
**Sing hey nonny Friday-o!
(Rosella's Song, by Gail Carson Levine)

My eyes are fully open to my lonely habitation--*
I shall call at once my uncle, my cousin for to summon,
I shall tell her I am ready with books and toys all handy,
And I have crafts and dolls and puzzles for us to enjoy my bounty.
Now I do not want to be alone all day and night and day,
But folks are scarce this time of year as they're at home to play,*
And although a little food would be welcome to grace my platter,
I'm not shopping till tomorrow, so it really doesn't matter!

So it really doesn't matter,
So it really doesn't matter, matter,
So it really doesn't matter,
So it really doesn't mattter,
So it really doesn't matter, matter, matter, matter, matter!
("My eyes are fully open," by W. S. Gilbert)

The day changed into night, to the stars the sun did whistle,
And away daylight flew light the down of a thistle.
But I heard the sun exclaim, ere his rays were out of sight,
"Happy Thanksgiving to all, and to all a good-night."
('Twas the Night Before Christmas, by Clement C. Moore)

*Oh, the joys of Thanksgiving! And of everyone else being gone, roommates and friends alike... I camped out in our front room for two nights in a row because I was home alone, and the front room wasn't as lonely as my bedroom. And I learned that if you fold a comforter into thirds, it makes a fairly good pad to sleep on.
†For an explanation of the references to beta fish and rats, see: Of Empty Apartments
‡For the story behind Ralph (the fridge/dog), see: Gladys

Of Empty Apartments

2008-11-26T21:55:00.006-07:00

What I wouldn't give for a blue rat, a pink rat, and a beta fish!

Yes, that was what I had for company during most of Thanksgiving Break last year. And this year, I am again home alone at night, this time camped out in a fort my cousin and I made in the front room because it is too lonely in the back of the apartment.

I am grateful, though, because this year I do not have to be alone too much during the day--because I had a four-year-old cousin visiting today and I will have another cousin, an eight-year-old, over on Friday, and Thanksgiving dinner will be with relatives. But sometimes it can be unbearable to be home alone at night.

Oh, I am so very grateful that this year is not as lonely as last year at this time! Very few know what happened Thanksgiving week last year, and I want to keep it that way, but I can promise you that this year will not be a repetition of that.

So pretty much, I hate being home alone so long, but life is good. Life is good.

What Is Love?

2008-11-26T09:08:00.004-07:00

Love is caring about His joys and sorrows.
Love is being happy when He is around.
Love is a void filled--completeness.
Love is being two parts of a whole.
Love is a smile exchanged.
Love is selflessness.
Love is joy.
Love is never giving up.
Love is security.
Love is knowing, not being able to doubt.
Love is a bubbly, warm, comfortable feeling.
Love is a special friendship.
Love is understanding.
Love is total trust.
Love is continuing onward, through fatigue, through pain, through sorrow.
Love is not wanting Him to hurt--but knowing that through his pain He will grow.
Love is working side by side.
Love is laughing and playing together.
Love is the meaning to life.
Love is the greatest healer.
Love is a need.
Love is a dreamland.
Love is someone to cry with.
Love is hurting together.
Love is never being completely alone, even while facing struggles alone.
Love is an antidote to fear, and also a cause of fear.
Love is the deepest desires of my heart.
Love is somewhere deep inside of me.
El amor es decir, "Te amo," y mostrarlo en todas mis acciones.
El amor es querer algo más que todo lo demás.
El amor es el cielo en el mundo.
Love--love is heaven on earth.
Love is hope, faith, trust.
Love is why I dare.
Love is adventure.
Love is excitement.
Love is calm.
Love is safety.
Love is strength.
Love is truth.

A Song of Love

2008-11-25T22:10:00.002-07:00

Today I did a poor-quality recording of a poem (of Lewis Carroll's) that I have put to music. It is on my other blog, and the title of this post links to it. Enjoy!

-Mariah :)

Somewhere

2008-11-24T19:28:00.006-07:00

I lost Something Precious,
**Somewhere.
Except that it isn't really Lost;
**It's just out of reach.
I can see it, but I can't touch it,
**For Somewhere is too far away.

I am guarding Something Precious,
**Somewhere,
Somewhere just within reach,
**Waiting for the day,
The day when my Something Missing
**Can be Somewhere Close to me.

It is missing; I feel a void
**Within me.
It is just a little too far away
**For me to touch.
But I will find it Someday,
**Somewhere,
**Somewhere.

Angel

2008-11-24T19:23:00.004-07:00

Yesterday I sat next to an angel. She had large, innocent eyes and a nature that was completely free from guile. She had tears in her eyes because of the beautiful music we were listening to. My arm was around her, her head leaning against mine. Then she asked me to scratch her back for her, so I did, ever so gently, for the rest of the hour. And then she held me close to her. She loves me, and I love her, my sweet little child friend. Then it was time to leave; the fireside was over. I said good-bye to my friend after one last hug. Her name is Mary. She is a woman whose mind functions as a child's does. She is precious. I thanked God for allowing me to help take care of His little angel. And He whispered back to me that she was taking care of one of His little angels, too. That must be why I love her so--because we are both God's little angels.

Alone

2008-11-24T19:14:00.005-07:00

Alone
am I--it feels
empty inside. Where have my
friends gone? One is at school, another at work.
Some are miles and miles away. And it hurts to be so alone.
But then I feel an arm sneak around me. I feel someone's
finger stroke my cheek. A gentle kiss on the other
cheek brings my smile back. I do not look
around; I do not ask who it is, for there
is no one who I can see. Someone is
there, though, because I do
not feel so very
Alone.

The Very Hungry Mariahpillar

2008-11-24T18:51:00.006-07:00

In the light of the stars a little Mariah sat in a tree.

She was a pretty little Mariah, with a sparkle in her eye.

Then one day she came down from her tree. She was a very hungry little Mariahpillar.

For breakfast, she ate through one egg. But she was still hungry.

For a snack, she ate through two carrots. But she was still hungry.

For brunch, she ate through three sandwiches. But she was still hungry.

For lunch, she ate through four apples. But she was still hungry.

For another snack, she ate through five dinosaur chicken nuggets. But she was still hungry.

For dinner, she ate through a bowl of chicken noodle soup, some yogurt, a glass of milk, spinach, cucumbers, some crackers, a piece of cherry pie, ice cream, cheese, and a granola bar.

And then she was a very full little Mariahpillar.

That night, her tummy felt funny, so for a midnight snack, the little Mariahpillar ate through some magic beans. Then she felt all better.

The next morning, the very hungry Mariahpillar looked out her window and saw a humongous beanstalk outside. She climbed all the way up to the tippety-top and found a magic harp in a giant's castle.... Wait a minute!

The End.

(This story is dedicated to my very hungry Heatherpillar. Yes, Matelia, our Heather, from the 65th ward... "I will not forget thee.")

Snowangels

2008-11-22T21:12:00.006-07:00

Mmm...
Cinnamon rolls,
flour, cousins, mess,
Madelyn, Mariah.
She had so much
flour on her
that she was turning into a snowgirl. I was becoming rather whiter
than usual, too. Then we got the powdered sugar out. An even
bigger mess than before! We had fun together as a six-year-old
and a nineteen-year-old. Her nose started to bleed and I
helped her clean up. We both got lots of hugs. My sisters
are in California, so I like having little girl
cousins in Utah. When
the cinnamon rolls were
done, we made a wreath
for the front door. I gave
most of our cinnamon rolls
away. It made people happy.
Madelyn is a sweet little thing;
we can be snowangels instead of
snowgirls--because of the innocence
that we share, as two little girls of two
different sizes. Friends.

(I have pictures of our adventures today on my other blog. The title of the post is a link to them.)

To Matelia:

2008-11-21T18:40:00.001-07:00

Matelia,

I tagged my brother on my other blog, but I thought I might as well tag you, too... you can respond in the comments. ;)

-Mariah

p.s. Llama, llama, duck!
I still have my duck. Do you still have yours?

Oh no!!!

2008-11-21T09:18:00.003-07:00

I've been tagged, and I had to write 15 things I'm not afraid to admit about myself. If you're interested in reading my responses, the title of this post is linked to it, or you can copy and paste the following URL:

http://ipwergispudding.blogspot.com/2008/11/oh-no.html

You're really lucky you don't have a blog, Matelia, or you would be tagged, along with my big brother!

-M :)

Warmth

2008-11-20T11:34:00.004-07:00

Last night I was reading The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus by L. Frank Baum and one passage jumped out at me. It is talking about the young Claus making friends with the children. Baum says, "So the children romped and played games with Claus, and the boys rode upon his shoulders, and the girls nestled in his strong arms, and the babies clung fondly to his knees." Well, as I am probably just about the cuddliest person in the world, the image of a little girl nestling down in his strong arms spoke to me very deeply. I don't think I can explain this in prose. Let us try verse.

Warmth
Warmth of my father's arms around me,
Warmth of a friend's hug,
The security of having a big brother,
The joy of having a little one on my lap.

Feeling protected, safe from harm,
"You'll be okay, Little One."
Rocking a baby to sleep,
Someone to care for, to love;
Safety I can feel, but nothing to see.

This is why family is important,
Because of the love,
Security, safety, tenderness, trust, truth,
Warmth.

Warmth of strong arms around me.

Warmth.

Confused

2008-11-19T21:56:00.001-07:00

Sitting all alone, with just my bear,
My back hurting, my muscles tense;
Trying to talk, wanting to explain,
Not knowing the words, feeling lost.

Thinking, all alone, without even a bear,
My heart aching, my spirit tense;
Trying to connect, wanting to smile,
Not being understood, feeling lonely.

Looking up, no longer alone, not needing a bear,
My soul filled, my smile restored;
Seeing a new light, feeling warmth and safety,
No longer confused, understanding.

Strong arms slipped around me,
Arms I cannot see,
Words of comfort spoken,
Spirit no longer broken;
Who has come into this room?
Who has given me the words?
He calls me "Child," I have come home;
I feel like I could fly with the birds.
He is my Father.

Theodore

2008-11-19T21:30:00.008-07:00

WANTED:

Theodore--a teddy bear

Height (sitting): Not even close to my knee!
Weight: Next to nothing
Color: Reddish-brown
Texture: Rough/course fuzzy
Personality: Very cuddly, sweet, likes Alexis the bunny, friendly, flies through the air with the greatest of ease, loves to go to church and all ward activities.
A dangerous criminal--apt to be thrown at people who bother Mariah :)
Reward for capture: A warm, fuzzy feeling inside and something to cuddle with!