"Please be my prisoner!" --Dug, "Up"

You know it's a Friday when you start quoting talking dogs off cartoon movies...where have I been? None of the Reader's business. You must be consoled with this succinct explanation: things got a little bit rough earlier this week and "the well was dry", and to spare you from an entire blogpost of dumping or a post that consisted solely of twaddle, I kept away from the Miasma and tormented myself with demands about why my life turned upside down. It occasionally does that, you know. Transitioning from one day to the next, getting through another week, pressing on through the months are always...so fun *irony* when you're a teenager. Best of times, worst of times? But I think that's a good thing, to be pulled in multiple directions and to get chances to cling to God in the middle of those "insecure" and "questioning" phases that hit at random intervals. I asked God for more chances to prove my faith, to cement it in more firmness, and He made me realize that getting through these spells ARE chances, I've merely been blind to them. Start small, conquer, and God will trust you to the larger pursuits. So life is all good, eh? *grins*
So what's been going on in my absence, keeping the information uplifting and far away from those tug of war phases aforementioned? For one thing, "Les Miserables" will be the longest book I've read besides the Bible, and I'm probably going to be finishing it next week. A school book, I've managed to grasp a good bit of what's going on and have actually fallen rather in love with it. Mom and I had an interesting discussion about it this afternoon because I (ever the snob) disagreed with what the curriculum's author had written about the moral and worldviews of the novel. That was fun. I've fallen way too much in love with finding an argument and attacking with it. Also on the education field, I learned that I'll be taking health, psychology and calculus my senior year. I love it when things start coming together. More decisions school-wise shall be mentioned in future posts.
I've discovered that I am not a very technical person, in the computer/cords/cyber world. Mom received a true desire of her heart, one of those Amazon Kindle things, and she has actually figured out how to use it. I'm sixteen and I had to have someone explain to me what an app was the other day! My mother is cooler than me. *sobbing* I'm content, however, to be one of those people who consider keeping a blog to be a major technical breakthrough. I mean, hey: I can set up an account, I can enter a password, I can Google. But that's about it.
Sleep has been rather sporadic as of late and I look like Dracula. Winds in the area have been crazy high, and somehow my bedroom window broke so that the top part is always open. Great for fresh air, perhaps, but I'm waking up at weird hours of the night to see that the power went off and blinking around, multiple alarm clock numerals flashing at me, I discover what woke me up: the miniblinds being sucked against the bare screen with a rattling noise that makes a disturbing noise similar to a wasp trapped inside my ear. I love wind, though, so lack of sleep is consoled. I took a walk after theatre today and the wind nearly ripped my scarf away several times.
And speaking of theatre, today's rehearsal was rewarding because I found out we're doing a workshop at a local middle school. The Players are going to separate into groups of two or so and walk the kids through the skit, "Jack and the Robbers", and narrate the story and feed them lines, etc. It's gonna be so cool! And we got our costumes back today (temporarily-owned gingham shirts and suspenders paired with the blue jeans we already have) so it's making a blaring paradox, hanging there in my closet next to a black cloak.
The biggest news I am saving for a blogpost this weekend when I won't have anything else to talk about. *smirks*
I was struck with the notion that you, dear Reader, might be surprised that I haven't mentioned anything about the Olympics. Oh yeah, I watch them; we do every time they come on, since it'll be two more years before the related event. I haven't had time to watch a whole lot, and figure skating (preferably men's because they actually wear something)is really the only event I'm that infatuated with. My little sister and I stayed up crazy late the other week to watch that American fellow, Evan Lysacek, skate a beautiful triumph with near tangible enthusiasm and trod out certain egotistical opponents. No screaming, because it was after midnight, but we shouted in whispers and high-fived, and it was weird because I (as a rule) never get that hyped about a sport, and even less common for me is getting hyped about an individual. Maybe it was because we all agreed he looked like a villain, or because he was so humble with all the publicity, or because I admire passion and love directed towards whatever profession the individual I am scrutinizing has taken up, but I am very glad that Lysacek won a gold, because he certainly deserved it and treated the victory a heck of a lot better than certain individuals might have (individuals whose names shall not be mentioned here). *waves a USA flag around* WAHOO!

Heavenly Grammar?

Ever since I discovered what that mysterious word "college" meant, I've been setting my eyes on an English degree. I recall once when my older sister took me along one day to a couple of her college classes, and one of her fellow students asked me what I planned to major in. My sister and I both promptly said English. She knew I wanted a degree in that field, I was (and still am determined) to get what I feel God is pushing me towards.
But English major-wannabes are supposed to master grammar first, right? I had a rather humbling experience this afternoon...
Time has not been treating us kindly lately, but Mom and I finally sat down and scheduled my grammar program into our busy afternoons. We read the lesson and she gave me a sheet. Nouns, adjectives and articles...okay, so this is easy, my mind laughed. I KNOW what a noun is, thank you very much. I began reading aloud my answers to Mom and she corrected the practice sentences one by one. My pride kinda screamed, rolled over, and died. *rueful smile* I must have made at least one mistake in every sentence! Naturally my first impression was something along the lines of "Oh my goodness, this is not good. I want to major in English and I can't even identify every adjective in one short, lousy sentence?! So much for an English degree, dear girl. You are such a failure!"
But that was ME talking. And lately I've been paying more attention to the whisper of God's voice, and have been pleasantly surprised that He is rewarding my efforts to follow His will more for every little detail of my time and the way I spend it. If you seek, you shall find, and I have found this to be true indeed. Along with seeking Him more fervently than I have been in recent months, I have been reading "Do Hard Things" [see post before this one] and attempting to integrate their wise advice into how I view what happens. I decided after thinking over my humiliating grammar lesson that experiencing the "humbling" was just another way God was showing me how small I am compared to what His knowledge is. If I am faithful to learn and to grow, He will reward me, and I will not be relying on what I know on my own, but what He shows me. And today He showed me that I obviously need to get a firmer grip on my grammatical knowledge.
He decided to cement this little life-lesson with a quote by Terry Lindvall, showcased in a wonderful book that Momsie lent me called "Humility" by C.J. Mahaney. Read this and chew on it:
"Laughter is a divine gift to the human who is humble. A proud man cannot laugh because he must watch his dignity; he cannot give himself over to the rocking and rolling of his belly. But a poor and happy man laughs heartily because he gives no serious attention to his ego." So true!
I read the chapter containing the above quote approximately fifteen minutes after the grammar lesson. God's point has been duly realized. *grins*

Staunch supporter of the GET: Generally Encouraged Typos

Okay, so in the most recent post I mentioned something in Charlotte Mason's "School Education: Developing a curriculum" book. Here's what she says in regard to 'masterly inactivity' in the mysterious realm of your kids' companions: "With regard to the choice of friends and companions, again, we should train children so that we should be able to honour them with a generous confidence; and if we give them confidence we shall find that they justify it." She goes on to say that if little Johnny has a less than desirable friend and he is told to keep away from Less Than Desirable, Johnny's loyalty to Less will become cemented instead of keeping their relationship at less gripping level than it should have been taken. In other words, if Johnny sees his mother "leaving him alone" in regards to his companionship with Less, he will go to his mother as confidante and own up that Less is no good, instead of continuing an intimacy which did not truly please him. But if he sees Less being boycotted for the reason alone that he is not to be desired, his faithfulness to that friendship will win out. Basically, Mason puts up that argument but presents what struck me as a hit and run situation which does not always work out that way. In my personal opinion, it depends on the individual child and how he was raised, not the sol judgment of children as a whole. "A child left to his own" and such must be taken into consideration, and Mason admits to this in a later paragraph, stating that the parents' actions must indeed be masterly. Should parents stand complacently by and let little Johnny choose for his friends any Tom, Dick or Harry doing drugs and chasing girls? Or should the parent dote upon Johnny, encouraging any and every friendship for fear of boycotting Less Than Desirables and cementing an unworthy relationship? Or is a child under the authority of his parents until he leaves the home (and then is trained to covet parental advice) and should seek approval before entering into deeper levels of intimacy with someone outside of his family? In short, Mason's opinion confused me. Friendships can so often go awry, so it would seem to me rather ludicrous to keep your restraint at a masterly inactivity as a parent, trusting that Johnny will keep his soul clean from destructive influences Less may have upon his character. Does this mean you're not to trust your child? Certainly not. I'm just thinking here that masterly inactivity may not always be the correct thing to uphold while training a child to choose friends carefully.
That said, Valentine's Day dawned bright and sunny, and we all got our first taste of actual European chocolates. Oh.my.goodness! I am SO moving to Europe. We always get those cheapy American cardboard boxes of stale cocoa dobbies with tasteless caramel, and Dad decided to get "the real stuff" this year. Needless to say, his efforts for "chocolate perfection" was well rewarded by our choruses of disbelief, not understanding how amazing chocolate could taste. *flails* Heaven on earth, baby!
We also found out that Jack Tales [http://www.ferrum.edu/jacktales/] starts up rehearsals again this very evening, which should be lovely for my dead inspiration (not that I'm looking forward to potentially beginning a new novel and running straight into The Brick Wall), what with all the lamps on campus and the cold, crispy night air. Nothing much to report on the school field, other than finishing my music course and the chemistry test that is still glaring up at me from the bedroom floor and being stubbornly ignored.
Rabbit Trail: tomorrow Laura [see under Followers on sidebar], her little brother, and I are going to read "Do Hard Things" together and exchange our viewpoints. I did a book discussion on the Hideaway [link in first post] for it last year, so if the dear Reader cares to, we would enjoy your thoughts on the book, and the discussion was never taken down, if you want to wade through those typos. And if you've never read it, I recommend it heartily! It's written by Brett and Alex Harris, and so widely advertised that I've seen local Wal-Marts carrying it for sale. *grins* The companion website is http://www.TheRebelution.com/ and I encourage you to check it out sometime.

"Come, and bring with you a heart that watches and receives." -Wordsworth

I hate that feeling of having something "productive" to do, and not wanting to do it. *grimaces* Since I've made a resolution to blog twice a week, and after being completely shocked that the Miasma now has five followers, I have decided to dump a bunch of random information on you, dear Reader, and then proceed to stalk around being all happy because one post is already done for this week. So I say to you, ha.
...it has obviously been way too long since I was in the habit of regular posting. Naturally not every blogpost will be stuffed with the terrifying content of my brain trickling down through my fingers with grammatically incorrect ranting paragraphs, and certainly reading the Miasma would get old if it was. But what would be the point of blogging at all if not to promote substance? Way too much of the world is without a backbone. I was talking with a good friend earlier this week and laughing over her rendition of a "normal" person, but in every right I shouldn't poke fun at them because it must be such a sad existence! The key is to be curious, I say. If you aren't living for a purpose, and if you aren't willing to exert some manner of passion and curiosity after a cause you truly believe is worthy, life kinda falls flat. It gets into a groove of school-eating-sleeping-school-beingdiscontentwithyourmeaninglesslife...and we don't want that, now do we?
I've been reading through a series of book by Charlotte Mason, who was basically the woman pioneer of home education when "teaching one's own" was considered a worthy option in the general public (as opposed to now, when the majority seems to be getting the upper hand; this ties in to not wasting your life, peoples. Show the world that we support home education and that it is a worthy alternative! *ends homeschooling promo*). In book 3, "School Education: Developing a Curriculum", Ms. Mason talks about how 'masterful inactivity' is a thing to be desired. Masterful inactivity impresses to me personally the idea of knowing when and how to savor life, as well as knowing when to step back and refrain from interfering in the lives of [in the case of the chapter, one's children]. (One objection I had regarding when to leave one's children to themselves will be dealt with in another future post. For now, let's just say that it makes logical sense but may not be the best realistic option.) I find it funny that one of my favorite authors, Edith Schaeffer, rather shares Mason's view of this masterful inactivity. Allow yourself to step back for a couple minutes and look at the world, how it's slipping into a dangerous rat race after fame and fortune. I'm sure God intends for His children to be able to relax without taking pills for it! I find myself too often pushing myself simply for success, when self-esteem and happiness actually comes from who we are in Christ, and not who we are on our own. Before a larger majority wakes up and realizes this, "harmony" and "peace" (watchwords for radicals who are ridiculously close to the foundation and yet so far away!) will be unattainable. There's nothing wrong with spending an evening lying in a dim bedroom listening to calm piano music, or skipping math when cookies are more the necessity. Ms. Mason has something to say on this, too: "[Good humor is] quite a different thing from overmuch complacency, and a general giving-in to all the children's whims. The one is the outcome of strength, the other of weakness, and children are very quick to see the difference. 'Oh, mother, may we go blackberrying this afternoon, instead of lessons?' The masterly 'yes' and the abject 'yes' are quite different notes. The first makes the holiday doubly a delight; the second produces a restless desire to gain some other easy victory." To me this says that if blackberries will be ruined if the picking is put off until tomorrow just so you can squeeze more plodding drills into your daily routine, the knowledge that would have ruined the berries can and should wait until the berries are safely in the freezer for tarts and fritters! However, the latter part of Mason's quote tells us that math drills [or any other sort of "lesson"] should not be put off just because the kid is tired or because you downright don't feel like it.
My two cents. But yeah, Charlotte Mason's series about homeschooling has proved itself to be endlessly fascinating, especially because she delves into the logic and psychology behind her convictions, and I like material that has a valid backbone. Check them out if you can!
While on the subject of school, my own has been crazy-busy, but thankfully I've been able to stay on top of everything this week. I've discovered such weird obsessions such as government and research (yes this is Pip talking), but also the scary fact that when I "feel smart" for all the school I'm doing or because an essay I wrote has referential quotes and dates or whatever, that sensation appeals to my pride. I've known for a long time that pride is my "thorn in the flesh" and perhaps the sin which God hates the most. Wasn't it pride that Satan appealed to in the garden? Wasn't it pride that reverted the Medieval age into all the Reformation business, displaying the desperate struggle of man after himself, rampant humanism while almost everyone tried to exist on the field with God on the sidelines? And wasn't it pride that spawned one of my loves (psychology) and makes us do stupid things even today amid all this "intelligent technical" stuff? Before we realize who we are without God and who we are in Christ after salvation, humility will not guide our actions. Something to think about.
On a couple closing notes, thanks to all you lovely people who took time out of your day to comment! Especially y'all's encouragement regarding my novel completion (see latest most recent post). I've not ventured into another novel, still gathering my wits after finishing "How Shall We Adore", and so no writing has been going on besides essays. Although, I have been plowing through multiple stacks of books in a sudden soul-searching expedition. If you think about it, please pray for me, that pride will not step in the way of a rather voluminous decision which I'm keeping to myself, perhaps for many months, until I know what God is doing inside of me. Rest assured that He has been showing His face in many little ways, and I love the times when He is so tangibly close, He seems to be walking by my side! Concentrate on His presence today, especially if He is convicting you to use your time with "masterful inactivity", and have a day filled with peace.

What's that noise! Oh. It's my brain cells imploding...

Jokes are cracked by non-writers about Writer's Block and the people heeding their jests actually laugh. This is a crime. I want you to realize that Block should be labeled as an official disease and anyone who contracts it should be prescribed with a hearty dose of coffee. I know what you're thinking: "Here she goes again..." Hey, don't say I didn't warn you. I told you I was going to rant.
But que the rejoice, for I come to the Miasma to bring you good news regarding my writing endeavors. After three months (plus a couple days) of quite literally sobbing, tearing my hair out, wasting a ton of notebook pages in futile attempts to make sense of a plot already so convoluted that an editor would run screaming, I DID IT. You might have seen one of the more recent posts at the old HSB blog that mentioned the novel I was planning for NaNoWriMo [http://www.nanowrimo.org/] and endured my gushings about oh, it's going to be so great and oh, I'm used to doing 9K a day so it won't be a problem. I knew before writing a single word in that novel that it would be interesting and probably frequently spooky because I was delving into multiple brains only a week after getting out of multiple others; not to mention sensory overload from Disney World, which I think has still not allowed me to get over shock at actually being there. If you consider writing 10K the first day of NaNo a tribute to insanity, I completely agree that "the writing lot" are a zany bunch. But I'm not sure what my opinion is of NaNo anymore; I can only vouch for its utter horridness (yes, I just invented that word) and can firmly state that I shall never do it again. Was the challenge too high, the dear Reader asks? I finished the entire 50K within a week, so no. Then what, the dear Reader presses? To be transparently honest, I don't know. NaNo just...took my precious words and slaughtered them. I'm temperamental when it comes to writing my novels because if it doesn't hit the right depth or if the descriptions go haywire, I actually get mad and prowl around vainly searching for something to jiggle my inspiration and send the chapter reeling into the tiny, nigh unattainable space it needs to be nudged into. Tricky? You have no idea. *delicious sigh* Gives me something to think about, anyway. So I guess you could say, for a while, I don't mind it. But when it occurs repeatedly and when 9K-a-day is a thing of the past, and when nothing will trigger some wild explosion of happy and furious typing on my part, something is wrong. Can I legally blame NaNo for this situation? Not really but it's nice having something to throw rotten tomatoes at.
The final outcome was sheer desperation, and you know how desperation can so often be helpful in completing the impossible. Dark before morning, storm before sunrise, breathless pause before "breaking out into song", etc. If I'm not doing something, I go crazy. And I yearned so badly to get the words out of me. So, I was prowling around the CDs we store downstairs in the entertainment cabinet thingy and discovered Chopin. Oh wow. No seriously. I associate piano music with this novel because a character in it plays piano as a de-stresser, if you will, and if I'm going through a scene in my head, it helps to accompany it with music and that music is usually piano. Turns out, the Chopin on this CD was almost nothing but piano, and as soon as I turned it on, everything clicked and I wrote and I wrote and I wrote. I hit all the right notes (pun possibly intended) and the next day was the same story. Hallelujah! This past Wednesday was a momentous occasion for me personally because I spent another several hours typing happily and FINISHED THE NOVEL. *confetti* Halfway through the last chapter I changed the title of the book (*smirks*) so it's now being called "How Shall We Adore". 152K give or take, the longest single piece of literature I have sofar written.
I am very happy.
But I want to make something very clear. *dramatic music*
It doesn't matter whether it's finishing a novel or cleaning the toilet or watching little siblings or becoming the President, every aspect of our lives should be somehow geared towards glorifying God. That is often a hard thing to do, and to stand by and listen to God getting praise instead of you would seem weird to anyone who has not experienced what it is to truly be praising God. In my own little way, I am praising God through my writing, trying to make it as good as it will sound (in a raw draft) because God has given me "words to speak" and I only had to shut up long enough for Him to whisper them into my ear. One has to be careful never to shout louder than God, because personal experience and Biblical accounts should make it very clear that He is not to be mocked and He will make His will known; fickle humanity, we try to "hear from Heaven but talk the whole time"! If you pray for something, don't go behind God's back and further your own glory just in case He won't measure up, or just in case His good enough isn't as nice as you'd like. I encourage you to "hear from Heaven" even if it means being quiet, being still, knowing that He is God. As for the old saying concerning God helping those who help themselves, I think of "helping ourselves" as filling up our plates at a heavenly feast table. God has put blessings right under our noses, if we would only partake of them! You plant the seeds, and God will water them. Writing this book was very hard; there were many times when I seriously considered just putting it down, moving on, spending my time in other pursuits which wouldn't leave me a tearstained mess. But finishing it was so exhilarating! I knew that if I trusted God and waited on His timing, the words would come and I would experience that thrill of wanting to write them, not being able to be drawn away because I had fallen in love with my book. Don't think, oh she's so spiritual, because I screamed myself hoarse trying to get God's attention, telling Him how the novel should go, asking (demanding!) that my Writer's Block be removed at once. How many times will God have to get in my face and grab me by the shoulders to get a point across? There will always be those types of people who can act like brick walls and whose stubbornness can be penetrated only by a word placed just so, a note played just right. God has all those words and notes, and I am one of Those People. But life is good, no? I'm still in celebration mode! And to share my joy at having finished my novel, I will now...not post any of it.
It's rather a good thing I finished when I did because our slice of town got dumped with almost two feet of snow. Dad heard from someone that this is competing with some huge snowstorm back in the 60s. Our yard is beautiful! We have a slope up the side of the hill our house is perched on (forgive my grammar), and everyone has been sledding with all the ecstasy that comes with possessing so much luxurious SNOW. Goodness knows when this decidedly Southern state will get bombarded like this again! And people dare to think global warming is an issue...I can legally state that I have helped to shovel the driveway, although we only got a tad shoveled to the side compared to what's still on the gravel, and it'll still be a couple more days at max until we can back the cars to where the scraper guy got the driveway cleared. Fun times! Especially since snow = Paula Dean's Hot Chocolate. Oh heaven.

Elementary, my dear Watson.

For several years, I have stubbornly haunted my old HSB blog while virtually everyone else moved on to "higher grounds", so to speak. Enough, one must declare! Is this an act of conformity, you might ask, the humble bystander to my unspeakable act of cyberconversion? Far from it. My old blog was simply more cluttered than I could stand, but on the other hand still possessing of the nostalgic charm it had been created with. Heaven forbid that I should delete all those precious hours spent sobbing over my template.
Recently, Dad took my two little sisters and me to the local library where a published authoress [ http://www.beckymushko.com/ ]was giving a presentation, explaining a little bit about her new novella and what aided her in the publishing process. One thing she mentioned caught my attention, and that was the fact that she blogged, at least twice a week, to insure that she actually wrote something and that she was being productive instead of simply watching her literary life slip like water through her fingers. Oh, how I know that feeling! Time is wasted simply wishing to be productive.
If you, dear Reader, have been in recent contact with me, or if you have read any of the older posts on my HSB blog [ http://www.homeschoolblogger.com/islanderhideaway/ ], you will be painfully aware that I am an obsessive writer and that publication has always been a dream of mine ever since I began writing when I was 11, although that possibility has been put aside for a while or at least until I am actually satisfied with something I've written. What be the goal of starting fresh with a new blog, on a new site? Consider this an outlet for ranting, of which you will have to bear much, and ministry, which you'll get whether you like it or not. Comments more than likely will not be returned, but I've made a habit out of asking my Reader what it thought of the post, or a quality in some argument posed within the bulk of the post. I will read every comment kindly posted and I thank you for them. I read a quote once that said that the best arguments sound like the stating of facts instead of opinion-spouting. Isn't that true? Therefore if you read something objectionable, such as something said regarding what I believe about my faith (and I do tend to be on the verbose side when talking about how God pours Himself into His children), keep in mind that posts will not be edited to be "politically correct". Given the limited recognition of the Miasma, and don't you love this blogs' nickname, I don't think this will be a problem. However, if you find my "preaching" to be an encouragement, I truly thank you for taking the time to step into my tiny corner of the cyber world. I hope getting inside my head and picking through my Personal Grammatical Regulations has benefited you today.