This almost made me cry. It's so sweet. I couldn't figure out how to put it here, so here's the link. http://www.godtube.com/watch/?v=W6GZ6WNX. And while I'm in a nostalgic mood, I'm going to post this quote from Pooh Bear. Yes, I'm a cheesy romantic sap, but I thought this was cute. If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day so I'll never have to spend a day without you.
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Tick tock. Hear my life pass by. I can't erase and i can't rewind...Today I'm gonna try a little harder. Gonna make every minute last longer. Gonna learn to forgive and forget, cause we don't have long, gotta make the most of it. Today I'm gonna love my enemies. Reach out to somebody who needs me. Make a change. Make the world a better place, cause tomorrow may be one day too late. We went to Pueblo today to go to the farms with family. It's a family tradition. Every fall, we go to Pueblo, go the farms and buy fruits, veggies and chilies. We had a lot of fun. The pictures say more than I can, so here they are. Oh, and this is Chris. My great grandma Rene found some stuffed animals and wanted to give some to all the grandchildren, so here he is. He's named after a loved one in my book that I'm still grieving. He'll probably sit on my bed and be a writing companion. :) Losing dodgeball was never so fun. We went to the Sanctuary youth group dodgeball/dance party. Me, Emma and Abby danced dorkily a couple of times to the loud music, got smacked with balls and ate snacks. All and all, we had a really fun night. Thanks so much everyone for making it so fun.
It's scary to watch your sister collapse unexpectedly. Today at Thursday Classes, we were looking at an art exhibit, which was freaky and cool, because the guy said that these were all original paintings from famous painters such as, Picasso, Van Gogh and Davinci, and they were about 500 million dollars worth. 30 plus paintings were arranged around the room in a wide spiral. From the 1400s to the present time. Sketches, paintings, chalk drawings. Abby stumbled forward and grabbed Caitlin from behind and started saying, "I think I'm going to faint," over and over again. I didn't hear her, but Caitlin told me later. 'She really shouldn't be goofing off in here with all these expensive paintings,' I thought. I kept having visions of someone tripping and putting a hand through the 1 million dollar Van Gogh. All of a sudden she fell over backward, stiff. I'm pretty sure my hearing diminished, because everyone said that her head hit the floor with a bang, but I remember thinking that it didn't make as much noise as it should have. Her glasses fell off and her eyes were wide, her pupils completely black. Her hand and one of her feet was shaking, uncontrollably, it looked like. 'She's having a seizure.' I thought.
Mom panicked and knelt down next to her. "Abby, are you okay? Can you hear me?" It took her about five seconds to respond. I know five seconds doesn't sound like a long, but it is when you're waiting for your little sister to break out of what you think is a seizure. Try counting to five, putting Mississippi in between each second. All this time I wanted to help, but wasn't not quite sure what to do. My always logical mind was racking my brain for ways to explain this. She was healthy. It wasn't too hot. Maybe she was locking her knees. Why? She couldn't be scared. I even went over the possibility that she had a psychological fear response to the sharp blades in the battle scene. She breathed heavily and clung to Mom. I'm still a little shaken up. Keep getting better, little sister, and don't scare me like that again. It's heartbreaking to hold your little sister as she's sobbing over the loss of "her" dog. Tucker was 10 years old and he lived downstairs with my grandma. His head reached about 4 foot and he was fat, slobbery, and black and white. Ella adored him. She'd try to reach her arms around his huge furry neck and hug him. She'd pet him and play tag with him, even though he was as slow as a slug. He got really sick yesterday and this morning my grandparents took him to the vet. The doctor said that it was probably kidney failure and there was nothing they could do. They put him down about a half hour ago. Ella got to pet him and say goodbye to him before he left for the vet. I wasn't particularly fond of Tucker, because he was slobbery. He'd rub up against you and your whole pant leg would be soaked in dog saliva. Gross. But it was sad to see him go. I remember when he was hyper enough to jump on you and knock you over. That was years ago. There was one time, I remember when we had a birthday party for Tucker and he had a dog-food cake and a party hat on. We sang happy birthday to that dog and he happily ate his cake. As we were doing it, I was thinking, I can't believe I'm doing this. One other thing I remember about him, is when my sisters were dog-sitting and one of the little dogs were in heat and Tucker was sniffing it. Abby grabbed the dog and held it high above her head and ran. That's the fastest I've seen Tucker go in several years, chasing that little dog in Abby's hands. We will miss you, Tucker.
I suppose it's what I get for asking for people help me with my story. So, what happened is I was doing a project for OYAN (One Year Adventure Novel, for you who don't know) that said to write a scene that starts a normal day for a character that goes terribly wrong. I wrote this scene in the middle of the book and I read it to my mom and she claims that she thinks that the book should start there. What? She explained why and the thing is, I saw her point. But I don't want to start the story there. Because it starts with a death scene (again) and I love this character and want to have more story with him/her. What do I do?
We went shooting today at my aunt's parent's house and I shot a gun for the first time. I had a blast. We shot a 12-something shotgun (can't remember what my dad told me it was) and a 9mm pistol. I didn't hit one single thing, but I did get close couple times. The thing is, with the shotgun, it was heavy and we were shooting at a moving clay pigeon. On my first time shooting. The other one was stationary, but it was a far-away, soda bottle. I don't care, though. We had a lot of fun. At first I didn't really want to come, but I went anyway. And I loved it. I wouldn't miss it for the world. I keep having to remind myself to cherish the moment with people and make memories instead of burying myself in my writing or books. Paper doesn't give you memories that last a lifetime. If someone I love dies suddenly, I want to know that I made the most of my time with them. Sorry. I'm getting all nostalgic, so I'll stop. Here are some pics from today:) Happy birthday, Cameo! We all love you so much! Sorry I didn't get a chance to call you today! Can't make this post very long, because it's really late. I just wanted to put up this quote that someone said in the Book Thief. I thought it was a cool idea to think about when you're describing things in stories. If your eyes could speak, what would they say? It's almost midnight. Good night all! I'm going to bed.
Today, I thought I was off to a really good start. I finished my math early, got a good start on my chemistry. And then I remembered at about 2: 30 that I hadn't done any of my homework for LifeSkills. *Sigh* That took me a long time. I had no idea how many questions there are on that thing. It was exhausting. Note to self: Don't procrastinate on Life Skills homework again. My parents took us to Garden of the Gods for a picnic and a nature walk. That was a good part of today. Can't wait for Thursday classes tomorrow. As Emma says, "The week lasts so long and Thursdays are so short."
I was thinking about these quotes today. What more is there to say? These say it all. Did you know there are thirty two names for love in one of the Eskimo languages? And we have just this one. We are so limited, you have to use the same word for loving [someone] as you do for loving [your favorite food]. Isn't that a shame we don't have many more ways to say it? Love isn't based on what someone can give or how much they can do. I mean, everyone loves the rich and famous, right? But it's all fake. People just want to hang around them because they've got money. True love is treating bums and outcasts like they have diamonds in their pockets, even when there's nothing there but moths and holes. It's simple to love someone, but it's hard to know when you need to say it out loud. Love is a beacon that keeps wayward ships from crashing into the rocks. This story is kicking my butt. Seriously. My characters won't cooperate. This was supposed to be a romance, people. Ray (my main character's little brother) is giving me all sorts of problems that I wasn't anticipating and am having trouble dealing with. He's trying to change the whole entire tone of the story. Should I listen to him? Ugg. He's insufferable right now. And I'm officially at a stalemate, because of him. Something Liam said today made me think. Emma was asking him what he wanted to be when he grew up and he answered that he wanted to be Liam. It made me think, that no matter what you do later in life, no matter where you go, stay "you." If my ramblings made any sense:) My pastor says this a lot, Be who you is, not who you ain't. -Pastor Eric And here's a poem I wrote today for school. I was going to post something else, but it completely slipped my mind and I can't remember what the heck I was going to post about, so this is all you get:). There's nothing like making a fire on a cold "fall" night and roasting marshmallows. We had s'mores and sang songs, my dad playing the guitar and sometimes the ukulele, Emma playing the guitar and everyone else pitching in singing whenever they knew the words. From Amazing Grace to Drops of Jupiter. There was harmony (sometimes good, sometimes not). Those are the kinds of nights you remember, that stick with you for life. Those are the memories that you look back on when you're old and gray and you're remembering. Cherish the moments as they're happening, because you'll never know how long they're going to last. There's this inspirational poster thing that a friend has that says, "Cherish the little things in life, because some day you'll look back and realize that they were the big things." This event is so going into some sort of poem or story. In this happy little house, the fire's here to stay. To light the night. To help us grow....I am here to stay. I got my braces off today! It feels so weird and smooth. Wow. I feel so different!
Breathe your life into me. Okay, so I've got quite a few prayer requests today.
My aunt is going through some family problems, I'm not going to specify, because I think it's private (not sure, but don't want to take any chances.) Jacob W. who's going through his third round of chemo. Pray that he is completely healed and that God does a miracle on his body. Christy H. who's recovering from Lymes disease. Actually here's a miracle and a prayer request all wrapped up in one. She had Lymes disease which I think is uncurable. This week, my mom saw her and asked her how she was doing, and she said the doctors said that all the lyme was out of her body. She was completely healed. We just need to pray for recovery now, because the disease made her really weak and thin. My uncle David who's going through a heart surgery on Tuesday. This same procedure almost killed him last time he tried, so we need to be praying. Also, be praying for me, because I have two interviews today, one Tuesday and one Wednesday. Please pray that I don't mess it up and that I feel completely comfortable around the people I'm interviewing. My mom thinks that this is good for me. That if I want to become a missionary, I need to get used to talking to people. I agree, but I'm still nervous and excited at the same time. I'm genuinely interested in hearing their answer to the questions. Started Thursday classes yesterday. It's getting SO big. Writing Critique was first hour and there were maybe twenty kids. Love that, as always:). Second hour is Chemistry, and I'm nerdily excited for that. (Yes, I know nerdily is not a word) Third hour I was planning on doing Girl's Health, but at the last minute decided to switch to Life-skills because everyone I knew was in that class. At first I had decided against it, because all of the homework, that I didn't know if I was willing to commit to, but I ended up in that class. I now have to schedule 4 interviews with people about their pastoring/missionary jobs. Okay, let me just tell you something. I can't talk to people. I literally get heat flashes, start sweating and getting red. So, how sad is this. I'm asking my uncle, who's a pastor for an interview and I get nervous, get a heat flash, etc. That's just scheduling the interview. What am I going to do with other people that I hardly even know? Whew. We'll see how this goes. It might be interesting, just telling you that.
Thought I'd share this poem I wrote yesterday. Hope you like it. We were reading a book called It is Well with My Soul, telling the stories of the authors that wrote the four greatest hymns. Forgot the name of the author that wrote It Is Well with my Soul, but we read part of his story today. He was saying that the way he came to Christ was through a street preacher. I thought that the pastor put this in an interesting way. He said:
Repentance is an action, not just a realization. It's like if you are on a train and you want to get to Chicago, but someone beside you tells you that you're on the wrong train, that this one is going to New York. You don't believe him at first, but when he finally convinces you, you do nothing. You just sit there, instead of changing trains, determined to go to New York anyway, even though you were planning on going to Chicago. I thought that was a neat way to put it, but I don't feel like I stated it as well as he did. |
About Me!Hannah writes to satisfy her imagination. She's written six books so far--five of which need to be rewritten--and is working on a seventh. She ranges through a variety of genres, but favors contemporary YA, fixing broken characters. She wants to use her writing to change people and bring hope. She's currently going to college for Nursing and that takes up most of her writing time. She's a rather stereotypical writer, talking to imaginary friends, eavesdropping on people at the store, secretly being nosy, stashing herself away in her room with a paper and pen and chocolate and her teddy bear. She loves Jesus, the way the morning smells, her family of seven (four siblings), old movies, fairy tales, candles at night and helping people. She writes on another blog at nerdywriter.blogspot.com to hopefully build her chances of publication. My Author Site:Archives
December 2016
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