Holy NaNo, Batman!

According to my sidebar counter, NaNoWriMo starts in 9 hours!!!

I'm getting all quivery inside! :)

It Never Hurts To Repeat Yourself....

In honor of my niece Sheila's starting a blog here at Blogger, and because she is the first and ONLY member of my family other than Thomas and the kids that I am (knowingly) sharing my blog with, I have decided to re-post an entry I did my very first year of blogging in 2005. This is a post that is in my Dusty Pages Archives blog, and features possibly her first attempt at diplomacy.

Dated Wednesday, October 19, 2005:

And that reminds me.........

Well, Sunday I redeemed myself by making homemade vegetable soup and cornbread, and as I sat down here to decide what I was going to write, the vegetable soup reminded me of a "soup" story. This story was written down by the family "historian/scribe", my sister Barbara, years ago, and I'm sure she did a better job than I'm going to do, but I'll give it a shot -- because it's a cute story.

I was about 10 years old, and it was a cold, snowy, blustery day. My nieces and nephew and I had been playing outside and were very happy to come in to my Mom's nice warm kitchen, smelling deliciously of her homemade vegetable soup. We gathered around the kitchen table, bowls of soup in front of us, my mom and four of my sisters ladling soup into their own bowls, pouring cups of coffee and talking away.

Suddenly in the middle of their conversation, my three-year-old niece, Evonne, piped up with, "Pidah in my tsoup!" The conversation continued, so she tried again, "Pidah in my tsoup!"

"What's she saying?"

"I don't know; sounds like she's saying there's a spider in her soup!"

"Well, there is! There is a spider in her soup!"

No one knew how the spider came to be in her soup, but the soup was disposed of, a fresh bowl was given her, and talk turned inevitably to such topics as -- places in the earth where spiders might be eaten -- times of famine in which perhaps we might be happy to have spiders to eat, etc. My seven-year-old nephew, Bill, always a picky eater anyway, stated, "Well, I wouldn't eat it!"

My seven-year-old niece, Sheila, (definitely her mother's daughter!), tried a compromise. "Well, if you cut its head off...."

Bill: "I still wouldn't eat it!"

Sheila: "Well, if you cut its legs off...."

Bill: "I still wouldn't eat it!"

Sheila: "Well, if you drained all the blood out!"

Bill: "I STILL wouldn't eat it!"

At which point Sheila's mother, my sister Dennice, offered reassuringly, "That's okay, Sheila. Sometimes no matter how you prepare something, the men won't eat it!"

I hope everyone enjoyed that, and Sheila, if you are reading this, I hope you don't mind! :)

{{Singing}} "Brush Up Your Shakespeare...."

I have been very bad about keeping up with my reading of Shakespeare for the past two months. I just really haven't been in the mood. I want to read all his works within 12 months, just to say that I read them all in one year's time, but it's hard to make myself read something I'm not in the mood for.

I shall persevere however.

Here is my updated LIST, if anyone is interested. I've recently read "Romeo and Juliet" (not ever a favorite by ANY means!!!), mainly because I figured it was a good one to use to introduce Eler Beth to The Bard, "King John" (a bit weak, but still Shakespeare), the Sonnets (again, because it fit in with Eler Beth's poetry unit we're doing), and two of my very favorite comedies, "Much Ado About Nothing" and "Twelfth Night". We read them, and then we watched the movies.

Has anyone else kept up with your Shakespeare lately?

Can anyone tell me (without googling) what the titular quote is from?

NaNoWriMo Just Around the Corner

Have decided I'm going to do NaNoWriMo again this year. I have an idea out of which I think I can get 50,000 words. My only problem will be not getting started on it until November 1!!

I Can't Sleep

It isn't unusual for me to have insomnia when it's a full moon.

I have tried, but sleep just isn't coming tonight. And I just keep having to step outside to see that full moon and that bright Jupiter sparkling beneath! That is just so neat!!

That was the best I could do with my camera. In that first one, you can actually see a planet shape.

Okay, so fall is here. Officially today it got up to 99°F in our area, and this was the 81st day of 90° or higher temps for the Louisville/Southern Indiana area. We broke a record set back in the 50s, I believe the news report said. But showers are moving in over the weekend and hanging around for much of next week, and the temps are going to be lower. I certainly don't want cold weather to take over, and I don't really want a lot of rain either, but it would be nice to have fall temps now that fall is officially here.

Patience and Love

I recently came across the following poem by Joseph Mills. I think it's a beautiful poem, and I believe you will think so too.

THE GUARDIAN

by Joseph Mills

I don't think my brother realized all
the responsibilities involved in being
her guardian, not just the paperwork
but the trips to the dentist and Wal-Mart,
the making sure she has underwear,
money to buy Pepsis, the crying calls
because she has no shampoo even though
he has bought her several bottles recently.
We talk about how he might bring this up
with the staff, how best to delicately ask
if they're using her shampoo on others
or maybe just allowing her too much.
"You only need a little, Mom," he said,
"Not a handful." "I don't have any!"
she shouted before hanging up. Later
he finds a bottle stashed in her closet
and two more hidden in the bathroom
along with crackers, spoons, and socks.
Afraid someone might steal her things,
she hides them, but then not only forgets
where, but that she ever had them at all.

I tease my brother, "You always wanted
another kid." He doesn't laugh. She hated
her father, and, in this second childhood,
she resents the one who takes care of her.
When I call, she complains about how
my brother treats her and how she hasn't
seen him in years. If I explain everything
he's doing, she admires the way I stick up
for him. Doing nothing means I do nothing
wrong. This is love's blindness and love's
injustice. It's why I expect to hear anger
or bitterness in my brother's voice, and why
each time we talk, no matter how closely
I listen, I'm astonished to hear only love.

"The Guardian" by Joseph Mills, from Love and Other Collisions. © Press 53, 2010.

I Like This -- I Think!

Check this out. I think it's cool, and at the same time, I'm not sure I could do it without cringing. I'd want to use books that I don't want to read again, but I'd also want to use books that reflect my own tastes and preferences. And if I used books I liked, would I be able to turn them into bookshelves? I guess I'd have to use duplicates of books I like. What do you think? It is a great way to recycle!