quid nunc?

One of my friends had a camera when she came over to study. So this is what I looked like at school...

Almost. Though my stack isn't so big now, I am still reading this summer. ND Wilson's 100 Cupboards trilogy--so far they are really good, Animal Farm, and select books in the latin Vulgate are on my plate now. It's been fun being able to understand (for the most part) the Bible in a different language and seeing a slightly different view of the gospel and letters from Paul. Never knew how cool that'd be! Also, I'd like to get to some other godly womanhood books...we'll see.

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sewing projects:

dress 1

dress 2

shower curtain (I really am hoping to finish the bathroom-redo with Risse this summer before I head back to ID! small things do eventually add up, right?...maybe one of these days)

and I have an apron in the works ;-)

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Enjoying coffee with my Sister!! (this one was Risse's with all the syrup and milk....mine would be much, MUCH darker. haha)

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This summer is going to go by so fast, I can already tell. What else I hope to accomplish in the next 2 months:

learning to paint in B&W (just picked up my canvases yesterday!)

cook dinners

write more letters

help Mother Dear plan school for the boys

cut hair

games/bowling/wii

sewing/lessons

swim!

dates with my brothers

and of course some girl-time

blooms around here

staying busy

(painted the bathroom and baked a cake for Risse's graduation)

School is over. I am a sophomore. Moscow isn't home for a while and summer is around the corner. Thirty-two finals and 8 papers, countless cups of coffee (mostly Americano's), and thousands upon thousands of pages later, I am home.

Home is the one place in all this world where hearts are sure of each other. It is the place of confidence. It is the place where we tear off that mask of guarded and suspicious coldness which the world forces us to wear in self-defense, and where we pour out the unreserved communications of full and confiding hearts. It is the spot where expressions of tenderness gush out without any sensation of awkwardness and without any dread of ridicule.

-Frederick W. Robertson

So far I don't have any big, gargantuan plans for the next 2.5 months. I'll be helping Mother Dear with the 3Banditios and cooking meals and hopefully getting into some creativity. I want to paint and draw and sew and decorate and scrapbook and journal and write. We'll just have to see how much I can actually get done. =)

This last year at NSA has been a blast. I've read more than I thought possible and thought harder than I have over the last several years. I've met smart people, little people, famous people and found ever so many mutual friends I don't know where to start counting. I've made pizza more fridays than not and I know all the baristas in Bucer's. I've watched the clock tick past midnight and seen the sunrise. I've seen the world through new eyes.

Today is ginger cookies and english muffins and pesto pizza; today is 60*; today my heart is home.

finals week isn't always studying...

Miss Kayla and Lydia Erb came over for the afternoon and we made cookies, did hair, and took lots of pictures =)

wine theology; bottled poetry-a foretaste of consummation

Dry heat of the arid vineyard, trellises of wooden green and leaves of paper cells, clusters of fruit dark as plums, a perfect clump of must. Months of watering and weeding and the grapes are firm with skins stretched tight, primed to be crushed; matured grapes frosted with perfect age and sunburned to consummate tinge. Peels split and cracked, the flesh of the fruit is pulp—fermenting juice. Glass jade thick and cork half stained, a richly printed label, golden cursive letters scrawl around the bottle, the darkness sloshes against the sides. Fragile stemware next to a corkscrew, cheese and crackers on the board. Tended, harvested, fermented, on the table ready to drink; wine is a picture of the Christian life, rich in symbology and a tangible reminder of Christ’s suffering and the glorious conquering of death and the bringing of the new creation to life.

this is, by the way, part of my rhetoric paper that I'm turning in tomorrow afternoon

Mother Dear

You've always been there for me; whether I needed a hug and encouraging smile, a reality check (cause, you know I never get carried away thinking...), someone to cry on the phone to, accountability (I've need it ever so much more this year as I have been away!), a shopping buddy (if only we could buy all our "inspiration" at Anthropologie...although, I think I'm kinda with Anne, I like having to figure out how to make it ourselves), or just a friend, you've been right there at my back telling me I can do it, praying for me, helping me through the trials and rejoicing with me in the triumphs. I know I can always count on you. Thank you, Mom!! I have learned so much from you and I so appreciate all that you've done in my life to make me who I have become. I can only hope to become more and more like you as I grow older. I love you so much.

Ice Creamery

redo: yep, that's right. I wrote another declamation...whatcha think?

Cotton-candy air; my skin tingles as each hair prickles up my sunburnt arms; the chill of Coldstone refreshes. A collection of squeaking chairs are in the window filled with sticky faces and drips of already-enjoyed goodness. Crumpled napkins are on the floor and streaky fingerprints are on the door. Exuberant workers greet new guests with a song and continue scooping, mixing, scraping, serving.

Sweet-tooth cravings melt in my mind as idea posters and menu boards burst with delightful mixes and sugary sweet suggestions tempting my taste buds. Milkshakes, sundays, cones, frozen cakes or take-home-gallons. Any combination imaginable—I wait in line.

Buckets of multi-colored sherbet and velvety rich ice cream are arrayed beneath shiny silver-trimmed glass, miniature spoons for tasting the wild possibilities, a visorred smile behind a hand ready to scoop whatever I wish. Vanilla is too boring, Double Dunked Death By Chocolate couldn’t be sweeter, and White Raspberry Coconut Cheesecake just shouldn’t be an ice cream. Intense frosty green speckled mint, definitely the best. A rainbow of tantalizing jars of jellybeans and marshmallows and crushed cookies and salty nuts. Hand-dipped sprinkle waffle cone? or maybe a dish to share?

Two scoops of frozen gold, chunks of Ande’s mints and a ribbon of thick fudge worked in. A swirl of whipped cream to top it off.

Macy's Makeup Machinations

Step up to the cosmetic counter—thirty minutes to be completely made-over.

Tall white chairs and convex mirrors, color palates and free lipstick samples.

                                  Soaps

and washes

and gels

and cleansers

and toners

and lotions

and creams

and foundations

and concealers;

shelves upon shelves are stocked with beautifying supplements and smoothing agents, lip plumpers and lash extenders, tinted mascara and defining pencils.

Take a seat and gamble.

Tall slender women in white knee-length coats, faces a perfect velvet sheen, hair sprayed stiff, and lipstick spread thick, stare across freckles noting every “imperfection.”

Out come the tweezers and the exfoliating sponges. Next are countless “mineral enriched” powders and the tubes filled with “moisture locking” shades of brown, just a bit darker and a little hotter. Plaster on the cheeks, a creamy solution of color. Pinks and bronze are liberally applied to achieve a faux “natural” look—a flawless complexion. Eyelids twitch as black runs the edges. A bristly wand combs through eyelashes several times to ensure voluminous and extra long, sexy lashes. Foam brushes, blending sparkling sultry shadows, enhance the new foxy persona. Add a spritz of a seductive fragrance and walk out of the mall, a perfect goddess of Sephora.

But really, its all worth it, especially when it all washes off tonight in the shower.

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This is my final! declamation, but I still have some time to change it. Any ideas?