From every little prison, Elohim, deliver me

I may have posted this song before but you probably only read the post and didn't take the time to listen to the song.  Please listen to it, I think you'll like it.  It's based on the Litany of Humility, which is one of my favorite prayers.  Aren't you glad we have a great Catholic artist out there?  Matt Maher is, in my opinion, the greatest current song writer.  Too many Christian songs are too shallow and take no effort to understand.  While it is nice to have the monotony of "Christ is King, God is Love" to keep it all in the front of your mind, something a little deeper is greatly appreciated.  What do you think?  Isn't this song awesome?

(Much to my embarrassment, I just realized that I made my blog private while I was working on it and forgot to change it back.  My apologies - please go to the main page and scroll down to see what you've missed.  *turns bright red and scuffles feet*)

~Meggy

He has a beautiful voice, doesn't he?

A Letter from Audrey

Some time ago, A Wanderer In the Shadowed Land challenged us to write letters from literary characters, our own or otherwise, to get to know them better.  I thought I'd write a letter from one of the primary characters of the book I'm meticulously working on now.  She's a rather quiet person and even I don't know much about her so this was the perfect opportunity to get to know her better.  After writing the letter, I asked myself, Did I succeed?  Do I know her?  Well, I don't know.  This careful character is still pretty guarded.  But I'm finally figuring out what her relationship to Eva Locknob is, which is terribly important for later.

Dear Eva, If this letter comes to you under a name you do not know, it is because I changed my name at Brindleby to prevent anyone from tracking me here.  I am now in a little town called Wassying, which seems to be completely ignorant of magic altogether.  They think magic is either a myth or the complicated and outdated origin of the superstition to which they are so devoted.  I knew it would be safe place for me to hide, but I do terribly miss a society that believes as I do.

I have found evidence that there once was a vibrant magic community here.  There is a stone circle just outside of the old section of town, an area which long ago burned to the ground.  I was amazed to find that, instead of being abandoned, it was often used as a social meeting place.  I have been to several dances there.  --  I know it will not surprise you to hear that I have a suitor already, although it well distresses me.  The Wassy, which is what the people of Wassying call themselves, call us "swain", a word which I have not heard since Weatherby more than fifteen years ago.  Cedric Price is a handsome gentleman, and his manners exceed those of all else in Wassying.  The manners of Wassying are so very loud and comfortable that the whole place seems to be one family.  It is so different from what I am used to, but however superiorly gentlemanly Mr. Price  --

may be, I cannot make up my mind to be in love with him.  He left town on Tuesday, but first he asked me to take his mother's ring as a symbol of our pledge to one another.  Will I shock you if I admit that I did not take it?  I could not look at him and take his ring.  I am not aware of pledging anything and, I declare, he has never shown any interesting beyond a moderate respect.  Neither of us believe in superstition and he finds me sound of mind, he has said, although we disagree on matters of petitions, which he has resolved by saying in so many words that women do not have a full knowledge of such matters.  Leith still haunts my nightmares from time to time, and now more that ever, I with I was back at your inn.  I cannot seem to disspell him from my mind, although he has driven me even to open up my mother's books again.

Eva, it has been too long since Cedric left Wassying for Sidd.  I pray that you have seen him for I sent him to you.  But I have heard nothing.  No one else in town has either.  I do worry about him because, no matter how uncertain about marriage I may be, I still care for him very much, and he is so very foolish and young of mind.  He could not comprehend Octavius' full power, since he does not believe in magic, and he has no talent in negotiating.  The trip to Sidd from Wassying is, at most, fourteen days.  To have been gone a full two months and some is worrying, and I am not the only one who is concerned.  His best friend Ted is perhaps almost more concerned that I am.  he knows Cedric's naive nature far better than I and, he has confided to me, blames himself for letting Cedric go alone.  --  I have decided to come after him, and perhaps it would be wise for me to see Octavius.  i send this ahead of me, but do --

-- not bother to write in answer.  I am leaving as soon as may be.  Please expect me.  I have missed you very much and I hope you are well.  -- With all my love, Audrey

Unfortunately, the letter is blurry so I added captions.

I'd like to write letters for my other characters, so stay tuned!

 

"Guess that concludes negotiations."  I just love

these guys, don't you?  They possess everything

you wish everyone had: loyalty, bravery, simplicity,

oh, and awesome clothes!

 

~Meggy

Victoria (17)

    The black rider calmed himself and forced his mind to think straight.  “Come now,” he said, “think before your pistol shots gather the attention they rightly deserved.”  The last he remembered seeing of her was at the top of the hill by the barn.  He trotted back up there and looked around.  The Jargrare had not gotten up here before him, he knew that, and so she could have easily gotten away.  Perhaps she had made a run for it, trying to get back to her own country.  But she was wiser than that.
    It was strange that the Jargrare had disappeared as fast as they had come, and the black rider could not figure out where they had gone, or why.  He knew, however, that they had indeed gone so he called out warily, “Aritka.”  He repeated the call and whipped around when a noise finally answered.
    Nearly toppling the majority of the hay, Aritka pushed out of the stack.  She seemed hugely relieved to see him.  “I was afraid the Rikaks had gotten you, sir,” she said.  “I heard a scream.”
    “I have buried the victim,” he said, “and taken care of the murderer.  But now we must go on, and quickly.  So far as we are now concerned, there is no such thing as too much haste.”
    Aritka noted that his accent was Ganjak once more, but she had learned he didn’t like to discuss his background.  “How far must we travel from here?”
    The black rider tugged some hay out of her curls and straightened her cloak around her shoulders.  “This is a good cloak,” he said.  “It did not tear.  You are fortunate to have it.  We need only travel a little farther, and even on foot, it will not take long.  I suppose our proximity to the border is what made the Jargrare leave so quickly.”


To Be Continued....

A year ago now

To Whom It May Concern:

If you have come here looking for me, I am not here - it is because I am in Virginia.

A year ago today, I wrote a review on A Rose in Bloom by Louisa May Alcott.  A year ago, my siblings discovered the Archangel Song (parody on a popular song).  A year ago, I watched Hitchcock's Rebecca and got really interested in watching some of his other movies.  A year ago, I was posting a lot of Tangled videos and writing analyses on the movie.  I was babysitting for my neighbor, and I watched my first Glee episodes after the kids were in bed (and decided it wasn't healthy).  A year ago, I was wearing a homemade laced bodice (a pain to put on and lace up).  A year ago, I was feeling bogged down with my school work, wondering if it would ever end.  A year ago, I watched 'Lemonade Mouth' and loved the songs.  A year ago, I posted a great recipe for Strawberry-Rhubarb pie.   (For all the above, see: May 2011)

Today, I graduate high school.

Today, I'm in Virginia, graduating in a Seton Home Study School ceremony.  I'm in a darling outfit that I made myself, covered in a blue gown, wearing a cap, and I'm posing patiently for lots of pictures.

Today, I graduate.

August 22nd, I head out for Steubenville, Ohio to move into a dorm room and get started living on my own.  I start college classes, meeting new people, making new friends.  Learning to get along on my own - hours away from home.

But in the meantime, I still have a few months at home.  I have to work to save up money, pack up my things, get the house and family ready for my absence, and spend lots of canoe and fishing time with my dad.  I'll also be sure to assure my mom that I'm not abandoning her.

But today, I've left high school far behind.

My fondest, heartfelt thanks to all my readers - I'll post pictures soon

~Meggy

Victoria (16)

The black rider stiffened as the dismay swept over him like a wave.  They had captured Aritka!  His stomach flipped as a picture of her and the baby being ripped to pieces flashed through his mind.  He jumped down from the barn loft – not bothering with the stairs – and ran outside.  He knew the direction of the scream – he just barreled in that direction.
    The Jargrar’s den was not far.  The rippling back muscles stuck out of the hole in the ground and the black rider ran at it, screaming and waving his pistol.  He shot in its general direction, too blinded by nausea and hatred to bother with aim.  The bullet went wide but the creature jumped out of its den, immediately covering the opening with dirt.  It ran at the black rider, but it had no chance.  The black rider aimed and fired – when he was aiming, he was a perfect marksman.
    The black rider spared no time for the dead Jargrar.  He fell to his knees outside the den and scraped at the loose dirt.  Frantically, he hauled handfuls of it out of the hole, preparing himself for what he’d find there.  He knew it was hopeless – by the time he’d arrived, the Jargrar had had plenty of time.  Still, she had a right to be treated properly in her death.  He dug on.
    No matter how hard he tried, the black rider could not picture her lovely face marred by the vicious fangs of her murderer.  He could not bear to think of it.  Still, he knew how it would be.  Her curled hair would be strewn about in clumps.  Her dress would be stained too deep a red to ever be repaired.  But, most importantly, her large, clear eyes, which were a delicacy to Jargrare, would never look reproaching at him again.  They would never have a chance to look on him with favor.  Even if, by some miracle, they were still in her skull, they would be lifeless.
    He had reached the bottom.  Three feet down, the pit ended and the den curved away, underneath the ground.  He bent down into it and, with twisting stomach, forced himself to reach out.  He pulled the corpse out into the light and felt himself go dizzy.  It would not be so bad, he thought, if the vision of her as she should be was not haunting his imagination.  But it was.
    The body had not yet been torn into pieces, but it was badly mangled.  Eyes already gone, there were no distinguishable features to it, except that it wore a dress, which was bedraggled and torn.
    But then it struck him.  Now he was grateful for the vision of Arikta that persisted to haunt him, for the body before him was not quite right.  Firstly, the hair was not the right shade.  But what really assured him was the dress, torn as it was – for it was not the right style, nor the right color.
    Everything that was the black rider sighed in relief.  Of course, it was disgusting that an innocent girl had found death in such a way – he always found it sickening when he even heard the stories of victims – but this was not Aritka.
    And so where was she?  And where was the child she carried with her?  They must be safe – surely, they were safe.



To Be Continued....

You're a treasure

Hiya!  I have a shout out to you guys.  Do any of you have a great recipe for doughnuts?  My brother is thirteen and is a very strong critic of everything I do.  I love to bake and, while my various doughnut recipes haven't completely satisfied me, they haven't found any favor with him.

Some people would never watch 'The Mary Tyler Moore Show' and for very good reasons.  But Lou Grant makes a beautiful speech in 'The Happy Home Maker Takes Lou Home'.  Sue Ann starts flirting with Lou, of course, and he absolutely refuses, leaving Sue Ann confused and hurt.  But then Lou - adorable character - makes a beautiful speech about how she is too good for this - she's a treasure.

I can't find the episode online, but if you ever get a chance to see it, watch the section towards the end - he makes a beautiful speech.

Spring has arrived here for good.  The weather will be good all week and I've got all my planting done.  My baby sister (okay, she's eleven) has recently acquired a rabbit.  It's unidentified - mixed breed of sorts - and a lot bigger than the rabbits her friends have.  She doesn't like being taken out of her hutch but once on her leash and out in the yard, she seems to love it!

~Meggy

Victoria (15)

    Aritka was silent.  The baby fussed and she shifted the child up to her shoulder.  The light was already growing dim and every night sound made her nervous.  The night bird’s song was eerie.  Everywhere she wasn’t looking, she thought she could see movements in the shadows.  “Is there someone following us?” she asked once.  The black rider said nothing but looked sharply around.  Aritka didn’t dare say anything after that.  Somehow, she felt a little better with the cloak pulled close around her and the child, and something about speaking felt like revealing their position to the enemy.
    Even so, she was sure, a few times, that there was something lurking in the shadows.  So sure, in fact, that when she saw it dodge from one tree to the next, she finally said again, low, “I think there’s something there.”  She looked up to find the black rider staring into the shadows as well.
    “Aritka,” he said slowly, quietly.  “Just up this hill is a clearing.  At the top is a small farm.  Hide there if –” A horn sounded, quite nearby.  Aritka and the black rider jumped and turned to the sound.  The black rider leaned over and untied her pack mule.  “Go!” he shouted, slapping the rear of the mule.  It raced up the hill and Aritka grabbed at its mane frantically, clutching the baby to her tightly.
    Around her, the trees cleared as the black rider had said they would.  Above was the farm.  Aritka gained control of her mount and pulled him up short.  Down below, Jargrare were surrounding the black rider.  They had gathered fast to the sound of the horn, though the horn bearer was nowhere in sight.  The black rider was bravely using his pistol to bring some of them down, all the while backing his horse up the hill.  The Jargrare seemed strangely shy to simply take him all at once.
    Aritka kicked the mule on up the hill to the barn where there was a haystack.  She rode around it and dismounted, taking any necessary supplies off the animal and dumping them on the ground.  She slapped the horse and he ran off.  Stowing their things under some loose hay, she dug into the haystack itself, keeping her cloak around the child to protect it from the sharp straws.  Deeper and deeper she buried herself, the fear of being smothered in the stack weighing only on the back of her mind.  Instead, she was terribly afraid that the Rikaks would smell her out in the haystack and that she would not even have the chance to run.
    It seemed an age before she heard anything besides her own breathing.  She desperately tried to slow her beating heart, but it didn’t help that she held her breath every time she thought she heard a noise.  Finally, she detected the heavy falling of horse hooves.  That could only be the black rider, she reasoned, for Rikaks don’t ride horses, but she hesitated to call out.  The horse went away and silence reigned again.  It seemed hours before she heard another sound.
    There was a scream.  Aritka almost cried out herself for the horror it imparted on her.  The child in her arms jolted but Aritka was too shocked to soothe her.  She listened intently for another sound but there was nothing.  A horrible sick feeling grew in her belly and she wanted to die.  It was horrid to think of the black rider, dragged underground and torn to shreds by hungry Rikak fangs.  She was tempted to run out and reveal herself, to scream and attack the Rikak – kill it if she could – but the weight of the child held her sensibly back.  Tears rolling down her cheeks, she bitterly admitted there was nothing she could do.  And giving herself to the Rikak was suicide.  And what of the baby?
    With this decided, Aritka’s mind began to turn to more optimistic thoughts.  The scream had not sounded properly male – it sounded more like a girl’s scream.  This was hardly comforting, really, but at least it would not have been the black rider.  Perhaps her new acquaintance was still alive.  But, surely, there was little chance the man could have survived.



To Be Continued....

Betsy

I have been terribly busy of late and, it's not that I'm not doing anything fun, but I just haven't time to tell you about them!  :(  Here's something you could watch in the meantime.

This is my music teacher.  I haven't been able to get to many of her events so I enjoyed watching these recordings of her performance.  Obviously some of her charm is lost in the poor recording, so I pity you who don't know her in person.

~Meggy

Shaggy Blogs and Malware

There have been rumors going round about Shabby Blogs and malware, and a quick search on the web shows that it is not just a rumor.  So I am temporarily removing my Shabby Blogs stuff.  Hopefully the matter will be resolved quickly and I can put them back, but in the meantime, it is causing problems for people who want to read blogs customized with Shabby Bogs.  Sorry for the trouble!

~Meggy

Victoria (14)

The black rider swung into his saddle.  “I think the goodbyes have sufficiently been said,” he grumbled, and kicked his horse forward.
    “May rains give you prosperity,” Aritka called back.  As they disappeared between the trees, she pulled the cloak around her for comfort and hid the child in it.  “How far is it to Jinjan?” she asked the black rider quietly.
    “It would take only until it falls dark,” he said, glancing up through the trees, “but we will avoid the path.  It’s being watched.”
    They traveled at a fast pace, and now, with naught else to think about, Aritka worried about her future.  The time when she would arrive at Jinjan was fast approaching now, where she would be dressed up in the finest of Jinaj attire and presented to the prince.  The paths before Aritka were clear – she would be chosen as princess or she would become a slave to some stranger with a strange dialect.  A few feet down either path became hazy and worrisome.  Aritka now began to dread getting to the crossroads.
    “Why do you serve Jinaj?” she asked the black rider.
    “They are my people,” he said.  “I serve for the same reason you do.”
    “But you are Ganjak, not Jinaj,” said Aritka.
    “I am native Jinaj,” said the black rider, sounding confused.  “Born and bred there, with sweat and blood.”
    “Your speech slips into the Ganjak when you are comfortable,” insisted Aritka.
    “And when I am angry, it is Fiketian,” he said irritably.  “Your argument is naught.”



To Be Continued....

No one must be asked by me to leave room

Their best ever!

~Meggy

Lots and lots of music

I don't really have much to say.  I've been very busy finishing up my school work, doing my chores, gardening, and worrying about things in general.  I can't think of anything to write about except something that would tax my brain unnecessarily and so I think I will just share with you some music and videos that I enjoy.

I realize, because I've done this myself, that you aren't likely to watch most of these if any at all.  But some can be listened to while you're doing other things.  They really are very good.

The above video is one of those that you could listen to while you're reading, studying, or working, although it makes me think of hobbits and could distract me if I let it.  It isn't very long either.

This is a video of delicious nature sounds.

A long video of music and nature, perfect for studying - unless you fall asleep.

Victor's solo from 'Corpse Bride'.  I really like the piano music in that movie, although some are inclined to hate the movie because it is about death.  The way I see it, like all fantasies, it isn't real.  Now, if your personal taste finds it morbid, then you're entitled to your opinion.  I can understand why people don't like it.  It isn't a great film, really, but I find it entertaining.

Anyway, I wish I played piano like that.  Now that I'm teaching piano though, I do seem to be getting better.  I guess it's because I review what I know about piano on a regular basis.  I also have to be able to catch my student's mistakes.  Actually, that piece doesn't sound too hard.  What do you think?  If I just had sheet music for it, but I can't really afford to spend my money on something like that right now.

Say It With Dancing - O'Connor, Ryan, Jean

This is another great soundtrack.  I love how beautiful the blend of voices is.

Oh, there is something I want to blog about and hopefully get some comments on, but that will have to wait.  I haven't researched it myself yet so I'll do that first and then talk about it.

~Meggy