Listen to Poetry

http://www.bbc.co.uk/arts/romantics/

I found this other site http://www.rc.umd.edu/editions/poets/toc.html which includes a reading of Wordsworth's Intimation of Immortality, but the reader doesn't have a British accent.

What European City Do You Belong In?

You Belong in Dublin

Friendly and down to earth, you want to enjoy Europe without snobbery or pretensions. You're the perfect person to go wild on a pub crawl... or enjoy a quiet bike ride through the old part of town.

What European City Do You Belong In?

What's Your Personality Type?

We've been having fun with this online personality test. I scored INTJ, Mr. B scored ISTJ, and Tim scored INTP (gee, we're all a bunch of introverts here!) J just took it and scored ESFJ, but I think it's still too early to tell - so much of what he does is by default because of his family. I'd love for some of my friends to take it - Miss Roxie, Ginger, Sis and her mom, my Bioluminescent Twin, my AO friends.

One thing I found about the test - if you truly don't understand a question or strongly feel like you could go either way (they ask "yes" or "no" and don't give an "I could go either way" option), you can leave it blank so than an erroneous answer doesn't throw off your results.

This is my first time posting to our updated blog.

Edit: Here's a second variation of the test - you can take both to see if your results jive.

Calligraphy in the Sky

(the above is dramatized; below is closer to how it actually looked)

(taken November of last year)

But a week since...

500!

That last was our 500th post. This makes 501 and still counting!

(here let there be imagined sundry exclamations of exceeding pleasure)

I Might as Well Have Let Her Carry Them

I brought some things upstairs this afternoon - a bag of apples, a head of lettuce, a bag of mixed greens. And I was carrying Miss M at the same time. She said, "Mommy, I can carry the apples!" I said, "No, because if you drop the bag, they'll fall on the cement floor and be bruised. I'll carry them." So we started up the steps. I fumbled to open the door at the top of the steps - and the bag of apples went bump-bump-bumping down every single step until it bounced off the last step, rolled onto the cement floor and hit the cement block wall.

Miss M was shrieking with laughter. I don't think I've laughed that hard in a long time. I can't wait to see the condition of those apples when I cut them up for breakfast in the morning.

Hula on youtube.com

Here's a kahiko (ancient-style) hula on Youtube. The ladies are wearing long red skirts and black sleeveless tops, and they're from pretty far away.

and a modern hula to the song Ke Aluala. I love this song! Knee-length white dresses, long sleeves. Too bad the sound acts weird.

God is Like . . .

Miss M wanted me to read her a book. She picked it (the Little Golden Book of Prayers) and sat down and said, "No, I'll read it. First you read it." So I did, and then it was her turn. She opened the book and began:

"This girl is praying, and there's a very dangerous . . ." (I could see her grasping for the most dangerous thing she could come up with) "a TABLE!" I guess it's early, the cobwebs still aren't all out yet. Next page. "God is like . . . a butterfly."

This reminds me of people who won't believe in the God of the Bible because "a loving God wouldn't . . ." or "I just don't think God could . . ." or "I just don't see how a merciful God would . . ." So instead, they make up their concept of God. I googled the phrase "I think God is like" and here are some I found:

I think God is like abstract art.
I think god is like Yoda.
I think God is like the fiery yellow-orange-red power that comes out of the big explosion they call the Big Bang.
I think God is like a little kid, fascinated by this new toy he has: a little doll house with little dolls that he can play with. No real implications, no consequences for what he does with these dolls, whether that be playing dress-ups or throwing them in the bin when they get ragged and worn out.
I think God is like my kitten. I love my kitten, but she isn’t real anymore.
And then Miss M's "I think God is like a butterfly."

And then I found this, which is the truth:
"It doesn't really matter what I think God is like. What matters is what is He really like."

Hula

Miss M's current obsession is hula - I have some kahiko (ancient chant style) big time competitions that I ordered online and she's been asking to watch those. Her newest thing is that, as she dances (with a few ballet moves mixed in), she chants, like the dancers she sees on the DVD. She stops mid-dance, holds her arms out, and yells out gibberish. In the real dances, they introduce and end dances with a Hawaiian phrase - I know they end with a line that starts, "He inoa . . ." and it says the name of the dance they just did (but that's all I know!) And now she wants me to be the kumu hula, the hula teacher who sits on the stage and beats the ipu. I have nothing gourd-shaped, so we're using a flashlight.




Can you see the resemblance? No? Well, I guess you have to really stretch the imagination . . .