Thursday, December 24, 2009

Defiance Party!!!!!!

Hi everybody, just making sure everybody is remembering the Defiance Party next week. We should have plenty of extra seats to take girls home in after the New Years dance. Your all invited to come home with us and stay through Sunday when we can bring you back to Church. If you can't make it that way, will be happy to have you any time we can! :-)

Please reply and let me know that your remembering and can make it!

Miss Pickwickian

Friday, December 11, 2009

Vivo Per Lei (I Live For Music)

Andrea Bocelli and Hayley Westenra

I saw this and cried.
Never have I seen anything so beautiful.

Thursday, December 10, 2009

A Friend's Poetry...

So this is a poem a friend of mine wrote. He's a guy, so I didn't think it would be totally right for him to join our "ladies" society, but his work should be published, otherwise no one will see it.
It doesn't have a title, but it's really good!
Feedback would be awesome!

When Mountains be high and seas be rough,
And oft we say, "it's just to tough!"

But, then we look, and then we see,
How much closer it seems to be.

The seas have calmed their billowing roar,
And we see the bright and beautiful shore.

With renewed energy we blunder,
Right into more lightning and thunder.

But once more we look up to the Son,
To see our labor is almost done.

Stepping through the gates we behold,
A million more travelers from days of old.

And before passing into that place,
We leave our mark on a younger race.

Monday, December 7, 2009

Next bit of No-name-story

Here's the next bit. Valete.

All I could do in my shock was huddle, staring in horror at the beast staring back at me, waiting for death. But after several horrible moments passed, the dragon hadn’t moved and I wasn’t dead. Then I sat up shakily, laughing at myself – for I now noticed that the Dragon’s back was covered with dead leaves, and his serpentine body was grey and stony. The dragon was a statue; horribly life-like and life-size, but only a stone statue!
I had fallen through the wall into a grassy courtyard, surrounded by high stone walls; and my dragon was not the only inhabitant. After brushing myself off I peered cautiously around my dragon. My eyes beheld more statues – the courtyard was filled with them! I stepped out from behind the dragon and walked by their silent figures. Most were animals, such as a leaping dog, a crouching wolf, and a magnificent horse armed for battle. There were also some strange figures my eyes could not remember ever seeing before. The only human figures were two knights, and a maiden. They looked both young and sad. I marveled; what a strange place for all these stone figures to be, and how strange to have this stone garden adjoining the graveyard and obviously secluded from intruders! No one else must have known about it, for the statues were so beautiful and life-like that someone was sure by now to have taken them away to a museum or turned the place into a tourist attraction. There was no entrance into the garden, either; it was completely surrounded by high walls (except for the new gap which I had made). I was exceedingly puzzled.
That night I lay long awake, thinking about my discoveries; and when I finally slept, the stone dragon entered my dreams.
Over the next few days I visited the graveyard and the stone garden regularly. It became my secret hide-out. I would spend all day reading, stretched out along the dragon’s back, frightened no longer of his roaring mouth. Of all the statues he was my favorite. I would make up stories about him, pretending he was mine, and how he flew me all over the hills. The other statues became my friends as well; the War Horse was the noblest of all, and the leaping dog was his trusty companion. I grew very fond of them.
But I started having very uncomfortable dreams; my dragon would actually come to life; but he was not the friend I had imagined. He would chase me till I nearly died of fright, or he would eat my other friend the War Horse. On one particular night my dream became so frantically, horribly real that it jerked me awake, and I sat up in bed, panting. It was still dark, about two in the morning.
I got up, and looked out the window. Now that I was awake, I felt restless, as though I was waiting for something I-didn’t-know-what to happen. I paced the room a little, trying to get tired enough to go back to bed. I sat down on my bed, yawning.
And as I sat down, a scream tore through the air, splitting my head with its shrillness. I leaped up in fear and covered my ears as it rose, a piercing cry of pain or despair; and I had a horrible feeling that it came from the direction of the graveyard. I rushed to the window, but I could see no one. The Scream ended with a moaning wail, and then I heard hoofbeats, galloping heavily. I cowered as they came near, but peered out trying to catch a glimpse of whatever it was – but it was too dark to see anything, even a vague form, and the hoofbeats passed away. With head nearly as bewuthered as it was filled with fear and pain from the Scream, I pounded down the stairs and out the door. But the night outside was once again as quiet and still as it had been when I had first awakened. I shivered, then went back into the house. It passed briefly through my mind that it was strange Uncle Remus hadn’t been wakened by the Scream.
I went back to bed, but my nightmare returned and this time, the Scream rose and fell throughout it.
When morning came I took my book and headed up to the graveyard as usual, but my nightmare and the strange doings of the night before had not left my mind, and I was filled with a fear and sense of foreboding as I neared the old stone wall. As I went passed the archway and glanced up at the gargoyle, it seemed to me that his expression had changed from his usual sneering grimace to a look of mourning and despair. The change disconcerted me, but I went on resolutely toward stone garden. I didn’t strike me till then that a graveyard can be a creepy place.
I ducked through the gap in the wall, and patted my dragon on the nose – and as I did so noticed that a tooth of his was missing. I stared for a moment, then assumed I must have carelessly knocked it off without noticing. But as I walked passed him into the courtyard, what I saw when I entered startled me- or rather it was what I didn’t see. The War Horse was gone. There was nothing but a light patch showing where he used to stand, and the dog that had been leaping near his side lay crumbled upon the ground.
Unknown terror filled me. Why had he gone? Who had taken him? What was wrong with this place? It suddenly seemed to be haunted with evil. The other statues stared mournfully at me, and the dragon leered in a menacing way that he had never done before. I was filled with a desire to escape, to leap through the gap in the wall that in my terror seemed to be closing in, trapping me in the dreadful courtyard of stones. I raced down the hill with fears of who-knows-what chasing me, and didn’t stop or look behind till I had rushed into the house and locked myself in my room. I looked out the window, but nothing of the graveyard could be seen from where the house was. I slid down to the floor, shuddering.
That was yesterday, and I have not gone back to the graveyard since. The memory of the Scream haunts me still; but though I am fearful, there are still many things I would know. What has become of the Horse that is no longer there, and why, and how he was taken? I wonder too about the dragon – what part did he, and will he, play in these strange happenings? It is still two months till my parents get back. Filled with fear as I am, I have a feeling that this story has only begun, and that the Statues in the graveyard have not finished with me.

Friday, December 4, 2009


What ho, comrades all! So, I'm writing a little story for a little writing contest, and I wanted your opinions and constructive criticism. It's actually a dream I had a while ago; I just tweaked it a little. Also, do you have any ideas for titles? I can't think of one.
Tinkerty tonk!
P.S. Oh and I forgot to mention- this is just the first part. I decided to post the story in two parts, as the whole thing might be kinda long for one post. I'll post the second part tomorrow or the next day.

I love castles. And graveyards. They both represent the same things to me; both remnants of a by-gone age, monuments of once-living people. They both have an air of mourning, of grand quietness, of remembrance.
Initially, when I was informed that I would be staying with Uncle Remus instead of Uncle Peregrin and his children, I was disappointed. Uncle Peregrin owned a castle. But I couldn’t stay with him while my parents were away because he was on vacation in Greece. Uncle Remus was willing to let me stay with him, and since he was my only option, I had to reconcile myself to staying only in his old country house and not in a castle. However, I was told that there was an old military graveyard near his house. I agreed to let that be the compensation.
But for the first few days of my stay I had no time for exploring. My uncle was a bachelor; consequently his house was a disaster. You wouldn’t have thought he had planned on my visit, and from the way he ignored me and spent his time away from the house, I couldn’t figure out why he had agreed to let me stay with him. But his absences turned out for the best, since I spent the first four days pulling the house apart in an attempt to make it habitable. He may have been able to live in a nearly destroyed house, but I couldn’t.
The fifth morning of my stay dawned bright and sunny. Up till now it had been dull and cloudy, and I felt that I couldn’t waste a day like this cleaning. I was disappointed and fed up with the creaky old house and the creaky old uncle who was never there. I packed myself a lunch and a book, and felt ready to finally do some real exploring.
It was November, and the hills and trees about the house had looked desolate and lonely, but the sun had dried up the puddles and changed the land from winter back to autumn. The land was frosty and the trees looked mysterious without their leaves. It was the perfect atmosphere in which to find a graveyard.
I didn’t know where the graveyard was; when I had asked him, Uncle had told me vaguely that it was ‘north’. But I must have only gone a mile from the house when I saw an old moss covered stone wall peeking through the bare trees. As I drew closer the trees revealed a high arched gate, and peering through this I could see the familiar solemn gravestones. The archway was hideously ugly, with a gargoyle of death perched atop the archway, leering mischievously at me. I didn’t want to pass under the arch to get to the graveyard; I had an uncomfortable feeling that the gargoyle would know I was there if I did. I jumped over the wall.
Inside the graveyard was deadly quiet. I always say, if you want somewhere to read or study in undisturbed silence, a graveyard was the place to go; and this one was no exception. As I walked about, studying the gravestones, I felt almost as though I was wrongly disturbing the eternal quiet and the bodies resting beneath still ground. The graveyard must have been either very old, or not well-tended, for the stones were crumbling and the inscriptions were for the most part worn away. A few of the more readable ones merely stated the name and age of the body beneath it. The names were very odd, I thought. Shalamanzar, Abimalek, and Hepsiba, were some of the more legible ones; even though the gravestone said their bodies weren’t at the actual graves because they couldn’t be found. Every so often a little carving of a knight or crossed swords was engraved on a stone; but this was the only sign that the burial ground was a military one.
It wasn’t a very large graveyard, and eventually it dead-ended in a high ivy-covered wall. Now, I have a natural suspicion of ivy-covered walls; in all the books they always seem to be hiding something behind them. I pulled back the ivy - but there was no hidden door. Nothing daunted, I kicked the wall and punched it, trying to loosen the stones to see what lay behind the wall. I finally threw my whole body against the crumbling stones. I felt the wall suddenly give way, and with a rush and a crash it fell apart, carrying me with its avalanche to the other side. As the dust settled, I sat up groaning – then yelped and jumped a foot in the air. I was staring straight into the open mouth of a dragon.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

High On A Mountain- Cathie Ryan

High On A Mountain
By Cathie Ryan

"As I look at the valley down below
It is green just as far as I can see
As my memory returns, how my heart does yearn
For you and the days that used to be

High on a mountain living free
Thinking about the days that used to be
High on a mountain standing alone
Wondering where the years of my life have gone

I wonder if you ever think of me
Or if time's blotted out your memory
As I listen to the breeze blow gently through the trees
I'll always cherish what you meant to me

High on a mountain living free
Thinking about the days that used to be
High on a mountain standing alone
Wondering where the years of my life have gone

I like alot of here lyrics. I know this isn't a lot of your guy's style, but she sings with John Doyle and Tim O'Brian. I like her voice and the songs she picks....for the most part...except when their in Celtic gibberish.

Miss Pickwickian