Blast.

The secretary at the Costco optometrist's is:
Young.
Attractive.
A return missionary.
Reading Harry Potter.
And (a new development) married.

On the upside, we bought chocolate-covered raisins.

Christmas

Oh, I know it's been overdone, but mine was TOO COOL not to tell you all about!

I started the day off right by still being up reading when the clock showed midnight.

It's a family tradition that Christmas Eve all the kids sleep in the same room. When we woke up, Lizzie and I dressed all of our dolls in their Christmas best (another tradition, and I pity any of you who don't have a sister to do it with. And before any of you get on at me for still playing with dolls, think of Toy Story. Yeah.) while Joseph read aloud from Luke.

Then it was time for presents! I got:

Chocolate

of many varieties

Shakespeare's Sonnets

I feel like Marianne.

Bottles

China and glass, from Joseph and Mom

A cute statuette

from Lizzie

A dress

adorable

And the Pursuit of Happiness by Maira Kalman

delightful--fills all my history nerd needs

A wonderfully soft beanie

I'm going to decorate it.

Speak Now

I love Taylor Swift.

Really pretty sticky notes

They're called "Forget-me-nots." Isn't that great?

And....ROBIN HOOD!!!!!

How I love him. I know what I'm doing this week.

Then, I read And the Pursuit of Happiness. Thick book, quick read.

I thought about watching Robin Hood, but decided to save it for my friends. However, I was in a very BBC mood, so I watched North and South instead. Who better to spend Christmas with than Richard Armitage?



Around 6:00, my aunt and uncle and cousins and their family came over for dinner. It was delicious: ham, potatoes, pumpkin biscuits, carrots, salad, and poni popo. (My uncle's Samoan.)

All in all, a thoroughly delightful holiday.

Merry Christmas!



I have my two front teeth, so here's what I want now:

Quick Christmas list, inspired by Catie at www.sobasicallyboyssuck.blogspot.com
Please don't take any of these seriously and get me them. For one thing, most are expensive/not available, and for another the large majority I know I'm getting. :) Feel free to take ideas for your own list, though.
1. BBC's Robin Hood on DVD, Season 1. (And 2, and 3...but I'll take what I can get.)

 

2. My driver's license. Really. A lot. But maybe not in the snow.



3. Chocolate! Yum.



4. A desk...Like, say, this one?



5. For the phone jack that currently resides in my brother's room to magically transfer into my room, so I can actually have access to the adorable pink phone I got from my cousin.



6. Glass bottles. I. Love. Bottles. I collect cool ones. (There's a great collection at Campus Crafts and Floral. Hint, hint.)



7. Green clothing. I have red hair, what can I say?



8. A horse. Don't question it.



9. To find my planner that's been missing for months.



10. Gilbert Blythe. Or, if that's impossible, a life-size cardboard cutout would do. (I seem to remember being promised one of these last year, but as of yet I do not own it. Sad.)



11. World peace. Why not?

(I searched "world peace" on Google Images, and this is what came up. Personally, I think it looks like they're poking each other, but hey, I'm not gonna argue with their peace. )



And while I'm at it...
12. True love. Makes an even dozen, anyway.



When Inner-Feminists Emerge...

I know, it sounds like the title of a fourth-rate horror film. Here's the story.
Tonight, my family went to clean the church building for Family Home Evening. The elderly gentleman in charge took one look at me and said, "I've got just the job for you, young lady." Oh, dear. I knew what it was before he even headed for the broom cupboard. As he handed me the broom, three distinct sides of myself immediately had something to say.
1. The girly-girl was delighted by the same Cinderella fantasy which allowed a five-year-old Kat to happily mop floors on her hands and knees, but never with a stick mop.
2. The history nerd gloried in the fact that the broom was old enough to have been made not just with yellow bristles but with actual broom corn. And noted that it had been stored the traditional English way, rather than the French.
3. The feminist threw back her head and howled. Because when a man your grandpa's age or older gives you that look, it means they're seeing you in frilly apron and heels, smilingly doing housework a la their mother's Lady's Magazine. The "little wife" of Beauty and the Beast fame. Noooooooooo! I mean, to that age group, I suppose any of tonight's activities would be considered the female's domain, but why, why is it always sweeping? Are these men aware that the making of brooms, at least was entirely a man's job for hundreds of years? Well, no. I suppose nobody but me and Colonial Kid are aware of that. Still. It's beyond frustrating that these archaic stereotypes are still around. His quick assignment almost made me want to do a bad job, just to frustrate his mental image. But then I took pity on the poor man. None of this was actually his fault, and he had no idea I was fuming at life's unfairness as I swept. So instead, in the interest of giving a good name to women's work ethics, the feminist made the walks cleaner than they had probably ever been. The feminist was then completely mollified when, returning the broom, said elderly gentleman asked how it had been. About to reply with a brisk, "The sidewalks are very clean now," she was startled when the man cut across her with, "I find it drags to the left a bit, and it doesn't accelerate as well as it used to. But then, it's a very old broom."

Winter Aspen

First off, I want to thank all of my wonderful friends for their comments and sympathy on my last post. You guys are amazing. But anyway, now I'm back to my usual, literary self. (I was never that far gone, to be honest. You may have noticed that even in the depths of despair I managed to sneak in a quote from A Knight's Tale  and one from Anne of Avonlea.) And so, I wrote my naturalist essay for English. And I really liked it, so I'm putting a bit of it up here. I don't want you to drown in the whole thing, but if you want the rest I'll add it later.

People say that winter is nothing but cold--cold and gray and dreary. It is cold. The rest is the sad mistake of those who can't see past what is right in front of their noses. Winter is magic. Winter is ice, snow, white, silver, sparkle, glide, black on white, the stark beauty of ink on paper. When you begin to see beauty in Winter, you see the very core of your surroundings. Without the shrouding bushes, mountains become monuments of stone, impenetrable as any medieval fortress, scraping the bases of the clouds. Without the enveloping greens of trees and grass, the bright red breast of a Robin flashes past in a blaze, striking in its confidence. Without the shivering leaves, the aspen tree seems an ancient goddess, every line a masterstroke of some forgotten quill. . .

Hope you like it. Happy winter!

It's Robin Hood I Want!!

Don't we all? I really don't have time for this post, so I'll just do a short one on the assumption that I'll come back later in much greater length. To cut straight to the chase: I. Love. Robin. Hood. I don't care if we're talking about the the somewhat pessimistic, sarcastic book version, the hilarious, gorgeous BBC character, or the aimated fox; he's my favorite. I think this probably has something to do with the fact that I grew up driving past Sherwood Forest almost every day, and watching the Disney movie literally every day. Here are some pictures to feast upon. (Anyone who has not seen BBC's Robin Hood, or read Robin McKinley's The Outlaws of Sherwood, get on it.)



Boys. Of the familial variety.

I think it was the Pevensies that first started my life-long wish for an older brother. Peter and Edmund filled the role perfectly--that stereotypical-yet-much-desired, teasing-but-protective not-quiet-perfect big brother that I've always wanted. My favorite doll from my dollhouse when I was younger was always the teenage boy--he had a ponytail and was AWESOME. (On a quick side note, I have nothing against my younger brother, who actually exists. But older brothers are different.) I've had ample opportunity to observe my friends' big brothers recently, but when I was younger most of my friends were oldest children like me, so my experience with the species was almost entirely literary. But I'll admit, literary boys are the best kind, and brothers are no exception. I have here compiled a quick list:
Peter and Edmund Pevensie (The Chronicles of Narnia)
Bill, Charlie, Fred, George, Ron, and yes, even Percy Weasley (Harry Potter)
Eomer (The Lord of the Rings)
John Ridd (Lorna Doone)
Ben Wheelock (Girl In Blue)
Tom Woodlawn (Caddie Woodlawn)

And there are more and more! But a while ago I got to thinking, there are just as many books where the "big brother" figure isn't actually related by blood. While this may seem like a pretty crucial credential, these brothers are just as good. Here's another list, this time of unbiological big brothers (please ignore any romantic implications that may come up later in the book, as this post is merely about the brotherly aspect):

Theodore Laurence (Little Women)
Harry Potter (to Hermione, Harry Potter)
Dickon Sowerby (The Secret Garden)
Nathaniel Eaton (The Witch of Blackbird Pond)
Calvin O'Keefe (A Wrinkle in Time)

The lightbulb went on! I do have big brothers--several, in fact, and the best you could ever wish for. They are my wonderful guy friends, of course. The first, whom we shall call...Colonial Kid, actually features in a book my friend is writing--and, no surprise, he's our "brother" in there, too. Then there's my red-headed brother, "Ron." This particular Ginny is very glad he's around. And we can't forget the "brothers" who are related to me but not actually my siblings. I have some incredible cousins, at least one of whom I think all of my followers know. We'll call him Earnest, after one of his favorite movies. Earnest is seriously one of the best people I know. He has such a strong testimony, is incredibly nice, and very funny. He's probably the most big-brotherly of all of them: in the absence of an actual elder brother, he's taken over the roles of Official Tease and Protector Extraordinaire. A great big thanks to all my brothers, real or surrogate...or even imaginary.

I'll finish up with a song from Little Women (the musical) and some pictures of the best brothers around.

Jo

I want to declare before everyone,
before the world,that on this day of
forgiveness and joy, that you
Theodore Laurence the Third--who
has valiantly lost all contest to me--
I declare you our brother: the
brother we never had
 Swear to us your
greatest oath of loalty.
An oath as dazzling as your charms.

Laurie

I swear I'll follow you like royalty

Amy/Meg/Beth

Come wear our royal coat of arms.

Jo

From now on we are joined
And we shall not be parted.
From this day on it's all for one
And one for all for life

Laurie

We'll live like musketeers.

Amy/Meg/Beth

Together we'll prevail.

All

We'll be five for all
forever from now on.

Beth
Now each of us must
swear for all eternity:
Our bond shall never be undone

Amy/Jo/Meg/Laurie
Nothing shall sever this fraternity.

All
We'll always live and die as one.
From now on we are joined
And we shall not be parted.

Jo
From this day on it's all for one.

All
And one for all for life.

Jo

Together we will fight

Laurie
Your battles will be mine.

All

We'll be five for all forever
From now on.
Speech! Speech!

Laurie

On this wonderful day.
One I'll never forget.
I am honored to say i am yours.

All
From this day on we swear
That we shall not be parted
From this day on, no matter what,
We're five for all for life.
We'll conquer every foe

Jo
With our brother by our side

Jo
We'll consider any friend.

Laurie
We'll be loyal to the end!

Girls

We'll be five for all forever

Laurie
We'll be five for all forever

All
We'll be five for all
Forever from now on!

On blogging...

Well, here we are. Where anyone could have told me I would eventually wind up, but where I kept saying I wouldn't. Such is life. The truth is, I'm a writer! I have to get it out somewhere, and I suppose a blog is a good place to start. Better this than simply in my head, making me so distracted that I can't accomplish simple tasks, anyway. Yes, this does happen. You know that part in Anne of Green Gables where Anne gets so distracted by the tragic story she's making up that she leaves the sugar out of the cake? Well.  One time, I was cooking, and I started thinking about that story, and then I went off on my own tragic thought-tangent, and got so distracted I actually did leave out a key ingredient. (Note to self: cakes are picky. Follow the recipe.) And a blog is better than a journal, too, because nobody ever sees your journal, so at least for me I have little to no success keeping it current. A blog, on the other hand, you can't completely neglect or the faithful followers come after you with knives and orcs. I myself have had very violent feelings when my favorite bloggers seem to forget their blog exists. So, moral of the story. I have a blog because I admit it will be fun, and it provides a really needed outlet for my insane imagination. After all, to quote Shannon Hale, "I can't write every daydream into a novel. Not if I want to do other things, like eat, or sleep, or breathe."