"Trick or treat?" asked the witch in a raspy voice.
"One sec." Brian ducked behind the door for the candy bowl, but came back empty-handed. "Sorry, we're out. I had a bunch of candy, but it looks like someone else already took the last of it."
"It'll have to be a trick, then, sonny. Don't say I didn't warn you."
Brian eyed the witch cautiously. Her costume was impressive: she looked exactly like the evil witch from the Disney movie of Snow White, right down to the hooked nose with a giant wart.
"Apple?" she offered.
"Umm. I'm good, thanks."
"Not for long," Cackling, she turned and hobbled away.
Brian blinked at the retreating figure. That was weird. He shut the door, went into the kitchen, and started mixing another batch of drinks.
Brian's dorm room was decked out with jack-o'-lanterns and fake cobwebs and full of costumed undergraduates. It wasn't every year that Hallowe'en fell on a weekend, and they were making the most of it. Mandy and Diane, best friends since middle school, had taken advantage of the noise level to talk privately in one corner of the kitchen.
"So, I know I don't know Aaron very well, but he's just so cute," Mandy admitted, blushing through the space between her scarf and her ski goggles.
"I knew you liked him!" Diane said, and giggled, her neon plastic earrings rattling. Her outfit was straight from the 80's. "Made a move yet?"
"No! Of course not! I don't even know what kind of move I should make!"
"It's too bad your costume isn't cuter," Diane sighed. "What's the point of coming to a costume party in that if you want a guy to notice you? You might as well wear a burkha. Oh well."
Mandy looked discouraged.
"Aww, I'm sorry, hon," Diane said soothingly. "Don't listen to me. Just go talk to him! Maybe he likes snowboarding, too."
"OK, I'll try."
Mandy's ski pants rustled as she crossed the living room to the couch where Aaron was sitting with Becky and Chuck. Aaron saw her coming, and smiled, but instead of smiling back, Mandy froze, then sat down awkwardly on a nearby chair. Crud, she thought. That was a great start. Now he probably thinks I'm shunning him or something.
Before she could say anything, Kelly interrupted. "Hey guys! Brian made margaritas!" She squeezed onto the couch next to Chuck, who was staring appreciatively at her Playboy bunny outfit. "Want to get one with me?" she asked, grabbing his bicep through his academic robe. "Ooh! Chuck! Have you been working out?"
They left. Mandy sighed. Well, I guess Kelly doesn't freak out whenever a guy looks at her. As usual when she was nervous, she wanted something to hold and fidget with.
"Where did I put my snowboard?" she asked, looking around.
Aaron put down his plate and turned to reach it from behind the couch. "Here you go," he said. As he passed Mandy the board, one end caught the plate on his lap; it flipped, spilling salsa across his apron.
"Oh no, your costume!" Mandy exclaimed. "Do you want a towel or anything?"
"Meh, it'll be fine," he shrugged, cleaning it up with his napkin. "This is actually my old uniform from the butcher's, so it's been through worse. Does it still count as a costume?"
"Sure, why not?" Mandy said. "Yeah, I kind of did the same thing. I don't go out much anymore, but I used to snowboard all the time. Mostly I just wanted to wear something warm in case we go trick-or-treating later."
"You are so smart," said Becky. "I'm pretty sure last Halloween was about forty degrees warmer than this. If I get frostbite, I will not be happy." Dressed in a Flintstones-esque cavewoman outfit, complete with a giant club, she was already shivering.
"Yeah, I tried to tell John the same thing, but he really wanted to come as a boxer," Aaron said.
"Seriously? With the teeny little shorts? Ha."
"With the shorts. See?" Aaron pointed to the far corner of the room, where John was throwing inexpert punches at the air. "If we go out later, you can wear my coat," he offered.
"Oh, thanks!" Becky said, then jumped up in excitement. "Alice!" she exclaimed. "Your costume is genius!"
Alice was wearing a blue Alice in Wonderland dress, and had dressed her dachshund, Gavin, in a Cheshire Cat costume.
"Hey Gavin," Mandy said to the dog. "Is your mom embarrassing you?"
"How late am I?" Alice asked, filling in the empty spot on the couch.
"Not much," said Aaron. "Although, you did miss the creepiest trick-or-treater of all time who was here a minute ago. Who was that, anyway, Brian?"
Brian was coming towards them now, swishing his red and black cape. "I didn't recognize her," he said. "Too much old-lady makeup. She was dressed like the witch from Snow White, though." He noticed Alice, and brightened. "Oh, hey!"
"Hey stranger!" Alice jumped up and hugged him. "Um. Who are you?"
"Jafar. From Aladdin? Now fetch me the genie's lamp from the Cave of Wonders!"
"Oh, of course," she said. "You even have the weird puffy turban crown thingy. Can I poke it?"
"I'm pretty sure Jafar was the creepiest Disney villain," Becky said. "I mean, he turns into a giant snake. That's pretty serious scariness when you're a kid."
"That movie is probably the reason I hate snakes," Alice agreed. "They're so gross. Gavin, what are you eating? Get out from under there."
"Aaron, would you give me a hand with something?" Brian asked. They headed back towards the kitchen.
Mandy breathed a sigh of relief. No more cute boy to worry about. She turned to Alice. "So, how--"
With a crackle, the lights went out. Gavin bolted under the couch.
"Hey everyone, it's ok," Brian called. "We probably just flipped a breaker or something."
"Do you have any candles?" Diane asked.
"Uh, let me look." He opened a couple of cupboards. "Well, I don't know whose it is, but we have an oil lamp." He lit the wick, then turned it up and down to adjust the flame. The lamp threw eerie shadows across the room.
"Is it just the weird light, or is he wearing eyeliner?" Becky muttered to Mandy.
"I didn't notice before, but you're totally right."
"His goatee is pretty epic, too," Becky continued. "It has to be fake. He couldn't have grown that without us noticing."
"Oh, I totally would have noticed. We have labs together three times a week," Mandy agreed.
"Ugh," said Alice. "Guys, could we move the couch so I can get Gavin? He won't come out, and I think he's still eating stuff." They dragged it aside. "Hey, honey," she said soothingly, then shrieked. "Gavin!"
"What's wrong?"
"His--his costume feels weird."
Mandy felt it. "It feels like fur. Didn't you make it out of a sweatshirt or something?"
Gavin meowed.
"Is he... smiling?" Mandy asked.
"Of course," Alice said, her voice eerily calm. "Watch."
Gavin smiled wider and wider, his tail twitching contentedly up and down as he lay in Alice's arms. Then, as the three girls watched, his tail started to disappear. "I'm sure you've seen a cat without a grin before," Alice said as the hind legs of the cat-that-had-been-Gavin melted into thin air. "But have you ever seen a grin without a cat?"
A second later, the grin was all that was left. Then that vanished too. Alice laughed. "He always does that," she said matter-of-factly. "He'll be back later. Or maybe sooner. You never know."
"Huh," Becky grunted.
Mandy raised an eyebrow. "Gavin just turned into a cat and disappeared, and all you have to say is 'Huh'?"
"Huh," she grunted again.
"Whatever. That was strange."
"We're all strange here," Alice said distantly. "Excuse me, I have a rabbit to find." She peered across the dim room. Mandy looked with her, at a loss for words.
Chuck was polishing off another drink. "All graduated means no classes tomorrow for me!" Next to him, Kelly, angled herself to give him the best possible view of her bunny-tailed backside.
"Look! The rabbit!" Alice exclaimed, starting towards them.
"Um, no, honey, I don't think it's the same one," said Mandy. Alice sat down again.
"Huh." Becky swung her club at the corner of the coffee table.
"Okay, then," said Mandy.
"I found a drink!" Alice said. "See? The bottle says 'Drink Me' on it." She pulled out the cork and took a swallow, then another. "That's really good. Want some?"
As Mandy watched, Alice shrank until she was only a few inches tall.
"Not again," she moaned.
"Here." Mandy unzipped one of the numerous pockets of her ski coat and lifted Alice into it. "Doing all right?"
"Yes, thank you," Alice shouted back in her tiny voice.
I need to find someone sane in this mess, Mandy thought. Chuck and Kelly were already mostly drunk; Brian was brandishing the oil lamp and cackling fiendishly. Wow, talk about method acting. Then she spotted Diane. Diane will know what to do! She had just gone over to talk to John; Mandy followed her.
"So, I totally forgot your name," Diane was saying.
"Oh, no worries. It's John."
"Your name is John?" she shrieked. "John Cusack?!"
"No, my last name's Berkley. We took Lit 212 together?"
"Oh, it's OK, I know who you are! It's so wonderful to actually meet you! I just saw Say Anything in the theatre for the seventh time. I think I'm in love with you. My name's even Diane! Don't you think that's a sign, John?"
"A sign?" John said uncomfortably. "No, I don't."
"We were meant to be together! Oh! Oh! If I give you my boom box, will you hold it up and sing for me?"
John stared for a second, then turned and ran. Diane looked crestfallen.
So much for Diane. And John.
"Well, that was creepy," Aaron said, coming up behind her.
"Tell me about it. Did you see what happened to Alice?"
"I'm right here listening to you talk about me," Alice shouted.
Aaron jumped.
"I'm in Mandy's front pocket."
"Oh, pardon us. "What happened to you, then?"
"I found a bottle that said 'Drink Me,' so I drank it, of course. And this happened."
"And Becky's not talking at all," Mandy added.
"Of course not," said Aaron. "She's a cavewoman. Don't you see? It's like... our costumes are taking over."
"So why am I not going crazy?"
"Well," Alice shouted up, "Neither of you are wearing costumes. It's perfectly obvious."
Aaron and Mandy looked at each other. "Makes sense," he said.
Behind Aaron, a giant snake reared its head.
"Hello, friendsss," Brian's voice hissed. "Prepare to sssee the wrath of Jafar."
"What the?" said Aaron. "How did he--oh."
On the counter behind the snake was the oil lamp, still burning dimly.
"Don't tell me. He found a magic lamp and used its power to become the world's greatest sorcerer?" said Mandy. "Crap."
"Yeah, I don't see this going anywhere good."
Jafar's flared cobra neck and head swayed above sleek black cobra body. He looked big enough to eat Gavin in one bite.
"What do we do?" said Mandy nervously.
"Shrink him!" shouted Alice.
"Get him to talk again," said Aaron.
"Brian! Jafar! Whoever you are! Over here!" Mandy yelled, as Aaron surreptitiously picked up Alice's bottle. "I've got to say, that hat thing? I don't know how much you spent on it, but it looked ridiculous."
"Keep going," Alice shouted.
"What did Becky call it, again? A puffy turban thingy? Yeah. Real cute."
Jafar hissed furiously. "How dare you mock my crown?" he shrieked, and at that moment, Aaron threw the open bottle of 'Drink Me' potion into his wide-stretched mouth. It stuck in his throat, but Jafar gulped and crunched the glass.
"You're trying to choke me? Foolsss," he hissed. But as with Alice, the potion had already begun to work. Jafar was shrinking. Now only a few inches long, he wriggled angrily, stuck in the deep pile of the shag carpet.
"I know what," Aaron said. "Becky!"
"Huh."
"Hit the snake!"
Becky smiled broadly, and thumped the tiny snake with her club. Then she swung again. This time, her club caught the magic lamp, and it smashed to the floor.
"Get the fire extinguisher!" Mandy screamed. But there was no fire.
The lights came back on.
"Mandy?" Alice shouted.
"Yeah?"
"I think you should put me down."
Mandy scooped Alice out of her pocket and set her on the table. She was getting steadily taller.
"Guys? Did I just kill Brian?" Becky asked.
"You're talking!" Mandy squeaked.
"No, he's breathing. I think you just knocked him out," John said. Brian, still prone, was coming back to his normal size and shape. "Snakes are pretty tough."
"Oh, thank goodness."
All around them, Brian's other guests were going back to their normal personalities, and the hum of conversation started again.
"I need to find Gavin," Alice said. "He'd better not still be a cat."
"Mandy?" Aaron asked, pulling her aside.
"Yeah?"
"Look, I've been thinking. I really like you. Could I buy you a drink sometime?"
Mandy smiled, her blush coming back. "Sure."
"Good," he said, and grinned. "Oh, look! Brian's awake."
"Brian! Are you ok?" Mandy asked. "How many fingers am I holding up?"
"Three. Yeah, I'm fine," he said, and grimaced as he sat up. "Next Hallowe'en, let's make sure we don't run out of candy. These trick-or-treaters are getting serious."
6.18.2012
5.31.2012
remodelling jackets
I got this jacket from Hot Topic in 2010, and discovered that it was a weird shade of gray that went with one thing: denim. Didn't even go with black. (Don't ask me how that's possible.) Now it's a nice, amiable shade of blue. I love how the stitching stayed light.
Meanwhile, I put new buttons on my green American Eagle jacket.
Meanwhile, I put new buttons on my green American Eagle jacket.
5.29.2012
"going home"
Last week, my roommate sold me her guitar. I tied on the strap with a big pink bow, the ribbon from the flowers my parents gave me when I graduated earlier this month, and I named her Vivian. We're still getting to know each other.
Five years ago, this was the song that a dear friend and I wanted to sing together and never did. The friend is long gone, but I still have the music I wrote out for us, and the words are still beautiful. It's time to sing it again.
We'll know what we've lost and all that we've won when this road finally takes me home.
Five years ago, this was the song that a dear friend and I wanted to sing together and never did. The friend is long gone, but I still have the music I wrote out for us, and the words are still beautiful. It's time to sing it again.
We'll know what we've lost and all that we've won when this road finally takes me home.
5.16.2012
mexican mocha cookies
I have this wonderful friend who is heading back to Boise for the summer tomorrow. She's my Mexican-mocha-drinking buddy.
The base for this recipe was the "chocolate drop" cookie from Company's Coming: Cookies (which is a fabulous book); I spiced it up for my church's Ascension Day potluck.
Cream together: 1/2 cup softened butter, 1 cup granulated sugar.
Mix in 1 egg, 1/2 cup milk, 1/2 cup cocoa powder, and 1 tsp vanilla.
Combine and add: 1 3/4 cup flour, 1/4 tsp salt, 1/4 tsp nutmeg, 1/4 tsp cloves, 1/2 tsp cinnamon, and 1 tsp baking powder.
Last of all, mix in (at this point your triceps will be getting no uncertain workout) 1 cup chocolate chips (Hershey's special dark, need I say more?).
These work pretty much no matter what size you make them, but the baking time will vary: ~12 minutes at 375 degrees. When they're done, they're soft, but not gooey.
The base for this recipe was the "chocolate drop" cookie from Company's Coming: Cookies (which is a fabulous book); I spiced it up for my church's Ascension Day potluck.
Cream together: 1/2 cup softened butter, 1 cup granulated sugar.
Mix in 1 egg, 1/2 cup milk, 1/2 cup cocoa powder, and 1 tsp vanilla.
Combine and add: 1 3/4 cup flour, 1/4 tsp salt, 1/4 tsp nutmeg, 1/4 tsp cloves, 1/2 tsp cinnamon, and 1 tsp baking powder.
Last of all, mix in (at this point your triceps will be getting no uncertain workout) 1 cup chocolate chips (Hershey's special dark, need I say more?).
These work pretty much no matter what size you make them, but the baking time will vary: ~12 minutes at 375 degrees. When they're done, they're soft, but not gooey.
5.02.2012
"Insomnia" (villanelle)
(with loud echoes of Robert Frost's "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening" and "Acquainted With the Night," and a dash of Shakespeare)
Awake, awake, without a single light,
The woods are where I walk when I can't sleep.
I'm far too well acquainted with the night.
No reason's good enough for us to fight.
I miss you. But we both know words are cheap.
Awake, awake, without a single light.
The darkness is a blanket, wrapping tight.
What dreams may come, when dreams in darkness creep?
I'm far too well acquainted with the night.
Another poem almost described it right:
The woods are dreadful, silent, dark, and deep.
Awake, awake, without a single light.
We're far too far apart; it isn't right.
I count the days without you like they're sheep.
I'm far too well acquainted with the night.
I've many miles to go, but not tonight,
And I have many promises to keep.
Awake, awake, without a single light;
I'm far too well acquainted with the night.
Awake, awake, without a single light,
The woods are where I walk when I can't sleep.
I'm far too well acquainted with the night.
No reason's good enough for us to fight.
I miss you. But we both know words are cheap.
Awake, awake, without a single light.
The darkness is a blanket, wrapping tight.
What dreams may come, when dreams in darkness creep?
I'm far too well acquainted with the night.
Another poem almost described it right:
The woods are dreadful, silent, dark, and deep.
Awake, awake, without a single light.
We're far too far apart; it isn't right.
I count the days without you like they're sheep.
I'm far too well acquainted with the night.
I've many miles to go, but not tonight,
And I have many promises to keep.
Awake, awake, without a single light;
I'm far too well acquainted with the night.
4.24.2012
"remembered"
This was my mother's grandfather,
the nurse told me in a whisper,
and I believed it.
He was old enough to be anything,
his forehead a craggy cliff,
bristling with blackberry-vine eyebrows.
I leaned closer to listen
as his voice scraped slow across his throat,
his chin wagging with effort.
Finding the right words was like
finding a needle on the forest floor
muffled for decades in layers of leaves.
the nurse told me in a whisper,
and I believed it.
He was old enough to be anything,
his forehead a craggy cliff,
bristling with blackberry-vine eyebrows.
I leaned closer to listen
as his voice scraped slow across his throat,
his chin wagging with effort.
Finding the right words was like
finding a needle on the forest floor
muffled for decades in layers of leaves.
4.06.2012
"Apocalypse"
(Revelation 21:1-5, rewritten into the meter of Robert Louis Stevenson's "Requiem")
I saw the city shining bright
God and Lamb for all its light,
And as I watched, God told me, "Write,
For these words are faithful and true."
I heard a voice from Heaven say,
"God abides among men today.
Sorrow and pain will vanish away,
For the world He now makes new."
I saw the city shining bright
God and Lamb for all its light,
And as I watched, God told me, "Write,
For these words are faithful and true."
I heard a voice from Heaven say,
"God abides among men today.
Sorrow and pain will vanish away,
For the world He now makes new."
4.04.2012
ultimate muffins
Today called for muffins, which turned into an exercise into adding as many ingredients as I could think of. Starting from a recipe for raspberry coffee cake, I added vanilla (why wasn't this in the recipe to start with?!) sour cream, coconut, and chocolate chips.
Starred measurements are approximate (ie, they weren't actually measured.)
Combine:
2 cups flour
1/2 cup sugar
1 tbsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 cup finely shredded coconut*
1/2-1 cup mini chocolate chips*
In another bowl, combine:
2 eggs, beaten
3/4 cup milk
1/2 tsp vanilla*
1/4 cup vegetable oil
Add wet ingredients to dry and mix thoroughly. Add 3/4 cup* sour cream. Mix together completely and then add 1 1/2 cups* frozen raspberries.
I baked them in (greased) jumbo muffin tins at 400 for about 25 minutes, but that's also flexible. It would make a dozen regular-sized muffins or a bundt cake.
3.28.2012
a splash of orange
3.20.2012
poetry class: limericks
There once was a somnolent lemur,
Who, going to bed, broke his femur.
Said the lemur, "It hurts,
But I think I've had worse."
That somnolent optimist lemur.
There once was a girl in a novel,
Who said, "I want out of this hovel."*
Her fortune to seek,
She went off for a week,
And dug up some gold with a shovel.
*there was some debate over whether hovel rhymed with novel or shovel, so I went with both.
There once was a Persian of rank,
Who swallowed as much as he drank.
When one day he choked,
No one helped the poor bloke,
And he died, the boozy old crank.
Who, going to bed, broke his femur.
Said the lemur, "It hurts,
But I think I've had worse."
That somnolent optimist lemur.
There once was a girl in a novel,
Who said, "I want out of this hovel."*
Her fortune to seek,
She went off for a week,
And dug up some gold with a shovel.
*there was some debate over whether hovel rhymed with novel or shovel, so I went with both.
There once was a Persian of rank,
Who swallowed as much as he drank.
When one day he choked,
No one helped the poor bloke,
And he died, the boozy old crank.
3.15.2012
The Enchanted Kitten
Once upon a time a young man married a young woman, and together they built a house near a forest and raised their three sons. The man and the woman loved their sons, but in another corner of her heart the woman always wished that she had daughter. "Because," she said, "my sons work in the fields with their father, and before long they will marry and build houses of their own. My daughter would marry, just the same, but until then she would be at home with me."
Sure enough, the oldest son married a wife and built his own home far beyond the forest; in time, the second son did the same. Only the youngest son remained at home to help his father with their farm.
The woman worked hard, keeping her house and feeding her family. One day as she was outside beating the carpets, she heard a mewing sound. Behind the well she found a white kitten. She took it home and made it a bed on the warm floor near the fireplace.
That night, after the man and the woman and their sons were asleep, the kitten waited for the clock to strike midnight. As the last stroke died, the kitten stood up and slowly grew taller and taller, and as it grew it changed into a girl in a white dress. She went upstairs to the bedroom where the man and the woman were sleeping, and spoke into the woman's ear so that although she heard, she thought it was only a dream.
"My name is Eleanor," the girl said. "Many years ago, I was enchanted so that I can only take my own shape while everyone in the house is sleeping. I will never be free until my true love finds me. Please help me." The woman stirred in her sleep. "Do not forget me," Eleanor said, and went back downstairs and out the door. For an hour she walked through the fields in the moonlight, singing as she went.
In the morning, the man and the woman and the youngest son came downstairs and found the kitten asleep. "I had the strangest dream about our kitten," the woman said. "I dreamed that it was a girl under a spell."
"I had a dream too," said the youngest son. "Someone was singing in our field."
"I wonder if it means something," said the man. "Dreams have magic. Do you still have that book of spells your great-aunt left you?"
"I believe I do," the woman said. "I will look."
When the day's work was over, the woman lit a candle and went into the library. On a high, dusty shelf, she found a book whose title was Magic. It too long to read all of in one night; the woman learned nothing about dreams, although she learned how to find hidden water. After hours of reading, she blew out the candle and went upstairs to bed. When midnight came, the kitten turned into a girl, and went upstairs after her.
"Thank-you," she told the woman. "You will find what you are looking for." As she walked away, she said, "Do not forget me." Then Eleanor went into the field and sang until her hour was up.
In the morning, the woman and the youngest son remembered their dreams again, but said nothing and began their work as usual. When the man and the youngest son went to water their cows, however, they found that their old well had dried up. They had a little water in the house, but only as much as they needed for themselves. "We need a new well," the man said.
"I can find the place to dig it," the woman said, and she found the spell that would find hidden water and spoke it over the ground. "The grass is wet here," she said, and when they dug, they quickly found sweet, clear water for the animals to drink. They went back about their work.
After the day's work, the woman took down the book again and read further. She learned how to put out a fire, but still found nothing about dreams or enchantments. At midnight, Eleanor went to her. "Thankyou," she said. "Do not give up; you will find what you are looking for. Do not forget me." And she sang in the fields by the light of the waning moon.
The next day, the oldest son saw smoke coming from the roof of the barn. "Fire!" he shouted, and they all left their work and ran to get buckets of water from the new well. From inside of the house, the woman heard the shouting, and when she saw the flames, she opened the magic book again and found the spell that would put out a fire. She read the it over their new well, and when the first bucket of water hit the flames, the whole fire was quenched. They went back about their work.
That night, the woman read still further in the book of spells. She learned how to mend a broken bone, but not how to understand dreams or undo enchantments, and she went to bed tired and discouraged. At midnight Eleanor again thanked her, and promised her that she would find what she was looking for. "But do not give up," she said, "and please, do not forget me." She sang in the fields, and the moon was only a sliver.
The next day, the man slipped on a ladder in the barn and fell. He tried to stand, but only hurt himself more: his ribs were broken. The youngest son found the woman, and she brought the magic book to use the spell that would mend a broken bone. She put her hands on her husband's chest and read the spell. The bones joined together, but he still moaned.
"It helped," he said. "But I think the hurt is deeper. Can you help me?"
The woman looked, but she could not find a spell to heal her husband. The youngest son carried him inside and laid him in his bed. He did not rest easily. Before night came, he had died. The woman closed his eyes and went downstairs and wept until morning came.
For many nights, the woman did not sleep, and the magic book stayed on the shelf. She forgot her dream, and she forgot what she had been trying to find. As long as the woman was awake, Eleanor could not take her true shape. She slept in her bed, still a kitten, until one night, the woman finally fell again.
At midnight, Eleanor found her. "Please, do not forget me," she said, and sang in the fields under the light of the waxing moon.
In the morning, the youngest son told his mother that he had heard the singing again. "I'm certain it was not a dream," he said. "Tonight, I will watch for her." He worked all day, and after his mother went to bed, he went outside and waited.
At midnight, Eleanor took her human shape and went upstairs. "I know you no longer want to dream or to remember, but please remember me," she told the woman. "By giving me a home, you have done more than you know. Thankyou. You will find what you have looked for, and so will I." She went downstairs and out the front door, and began to sing.
The moon was full that night, and its light shone on her dress and in her golden hair. There was no wind in the trees. The night was silent except for her voice, and she sang words that he did not understand, sadder and sweeter than the youngest son knew how to bear.
"You are not a dream," he said.
"No," she said. "You have seen me before."
"Why do you only come at night?"
Then Eleanor told him her story. "Many years ago, I was enchanted by a witch who envied my voice," she said. "She made me into a kitten and took my voice for herself. I can only take my own shape for one hour of the night, when everyone in the house is asleep, and then I can sing again. I have been waiting for my true love to hear me and find me."
"When I heard you in my dreams, I knew you were beautiful," the youngest son said. "Now that I see you here, I know that I love you. Will you marry me?"
"Yes," said Eleanor, and they walked together in the moonlight until the morning came. They were married, and stayed in the house to raise a family of their own. They had finally found what they were looking for. Eleanor had found her true love, and the woman had found a daughter, and they lived happily ever after.
Sure enough, the oldest son married a wife and built his own home far beyond the forest; in time, the second son did the same. Only the youngest son remained at home to help his father with their farm.
The woman worked hard, keeping her house and feeding her family. One day as she was outside beating the carpets, she heard a mewing sound. Behind the well she found a white kitten. She took it home and made it a bed on the warm floor near the fireplace.
That night, after the man and the woman and their sons were asleep, the kitten waited for the clock to strike midnight. As the last stroke died, the kitten stood up and slowly grew taller and taller, and as it grew it changed into a girl in a white dress. She went upstairs to the bedroom where the man and the woman were sleeping, and spoke into the woman's ear so that although she heard, she thought it was only a dream.
"My name is Eleanor," the girl said. "Many years ago, I was enchanted so that I can only take my own shape while everyone in the house is sleeping. I will never be free until my true love finds me. Please help me." The woman stirred in her sleep. "Do not forget me," Eleanor said, and went back downstairs and out the door. For an hour she walked through the fields in the moonlight, singing as she went.
In the morning, the man and the woman and the youngest son came downstairs and found the kitten asleep. "I had the strangest dream about our kitten," the woman said. "I dreamed that it was a girl under a spell."
"I had a dream too," said the youngest son. "Someone was singing in our field."
"I wonder if it means something," said the man. "Dreams have magic. Do you still have that book of spells your great-aunt left you?"
"I believe I do," the woman said. "I will look."
When the day's work was over, the woman lit a candle and went into the library. On a high, dusty shelf, she found a book whose title was Magic. It too long to read all of in one night; the woman learned nothing about dreams, although she learned how to find hidden water. After hours of reading, she blew out the candle and went upstairs to bed. When midnight came, the kitten turned into a girl, and went upstairs after her.
"Thank-you," she told the woman. "You will find what you are looking for." As she walked away, she said, "Do not forget me." Then Eleanor went into the field and sang until her hour was up.
In the morning, the woman and the youngest son remembered their dreams again, but said nothing and began their work as usual. When the man and the youngest son went to water their cows, however, they found that their old well had dried up. They had a little water in the house, but only as much as they needed for themselves. "We need a new well," the man said.
"I can find the place to dig it," the woman said, and she found the spell that would find hidden water and spoke it over the ground. "The grass is wet here," she said, and when they dug, they quickly found sweet, clear water for the animals to drink. They went back about their work.
After the day's work, the woman took down the book again and read further. She learned how to put out a fire, but still found nothing about dreams or enchantments. At midnight, Eleanor went to her. "Thankyou," she said. "Do not give up; you will find what you are looking for. Do not forget me." And she sang in the fields by the light of the waning moon.
The next day, the oldest son saw smoke coming from the roof of the barn. "Fire!" he shouted, and they all left their work and ran to get buckets of water from the new well. From inside of the house, the woman heard the shouting, and when she saw the flames, she opened the magic book again and found the spell that would put out a fire. She read the it over their new well, and when the first bucket of water hit the flames, the whole fire was quenched. They went back about their work.
That night, the woman read still further in the book of spells. She learned how to mend a broken bone, but not how to understand dreams or undo enchantments, and she went to bed tired and discouraged. At midnight Eleanor again thanked her, and promised her that she would find what she was looking for. "But do not give up," she said, "and please, do not forget me." She sang in the fields, and the moon was only a sliver.
The next day, the man slipped on a ladder in the barn and fell. He tried to stand, but only hurt himself more: his ribs were broken. The youngest son found the woman, and she brought the magic book to use the spell that would mend a broken bone. She put her hands on her husband's chest and read the spell. The bones joined together, but he still moaned.
"It helped," he said. "But I think the hurt is deeper. Can you help me?"
The woman looked, but she could not find a spell to heal her husband. The youngest son carried him inside and laid him in his bed. He did not rest easily. Before night came, he had died. The woman closed his eyes and went downstairs and wept until morning came.
For many nights, the woman did not sleep, and the magic book stayed on the shelf. She forgot her dream, and she forgot what she had been trying to find. As long as the woman was awake, Eleanor could not take her true shape. She slept in her bed, still a kitten, until one night, the woman finally fell again.
At midnight, Eleanor found her. "Please, do not forget me," she said, and sang in the fields under the light of the waxing moon.
In the morning, the youngest son told his mother that he had heard the singing again. "I'm certain it was not a dream," he said. "Tonight, I will watch for her." He worked all day, and after his mother went to bed, he went outside and waited.
At midnight, Eleanor took her human shape and went upstairs. "I know you no longer want to dream or to remember, but please remember me," she told the woman. "By giving me a home, you have done more than you know. Thankyou. You will find what you have looked for, and so will I." She went downstairs and out the front door, and began to sing.
The moon was full that night, and its light shone on her dress and in her golden hair. There was no wind in the trees. The night was silent except for her voice, and she sang words that he did not understand, sadder and sweeter than the youngest son knew how to bear.
"You are not a dream," he said.
"No," she said. "You have seen me before."
"Why do you only come at night?"
Then Eleanor told him her story. "Many years ago, I was enchanted by a witch who envied my voice," she said. "She made me into a kitten and took my voice for herself. I can only take my own shape for one hour of the night, when everyone in the house is asleep, and then I can sing again. I have been waiting for my true love to hear me and find me."
"When I heard you in my dreams, I knew you were beautiful," the youngest son said. "Now that I see you here, I know that I love you. Will you marry me?"
"Yes," said Eleanor, and they walked together in the moonlight until the morning came. They were married, and stayed in the house to raise a family of their own. They had finally found what they were looking for. Eleanor had found her true love, and the woman had found a daughter, and they lived happily ever after.
3.12.2012
"lost" (short fiction)
"Don't worry," he told me. "We're not lost."
"Are you sure? How can you tell in the dark?"
"Of course," he said. "There's a bridge. We can get over the creek up there and then find a hill, and then we'll be able to see those lights I saw earlier. We'll find a house or someone who can help us or something."
I craned my neck to see, but couldn't.
He was hurrying ahead, and I followed behind as quickly as I could, half-running on my shorter legs to the edge of the creek. It was wider here than it had been upstream, and had picked up speed. Spray coated the stones of the bridge. I sprawled.
He stopped. "Are you all right?"
"I lost my glasses. Can you see them?"
"Glasses. Glasses. I don't see them."
"Well, without them I can't see anything, especially not in the dark, so do you mind maybe looking harder?"
"Oh, sure. Of course."
I felt in front of where I had landed, crawling cautiously toward the edge. "They're not--"
There was a splash.
"What happened?"
"I kicked them into the water." I said.
"We'll go slower," he said. "Do you think you can see enough to just follow me the rest of the way?" he said. I nodded, and took a deep breath. "Oh, love. It'll be fine."
"It'll be fine," I repeated.
We found the hill. "That looks like a house, right? Over there."
I could see a light. "Let's go."
From there we went about a mile, maybe a little more. The light was getting close. It was a porch light, he said. Someone definitely lived there, we would just have to wake them up.
He rang the doorbell. "It must be disconnected," he said, pressing it again. "Oh well." He knocked loudly.
Finally, footsteps came down the stairs. "Good, someone's awake," he said, then stopped to listen.
"Where did they go?" I said. We waited again.
"I wonder if it's locked," he said.
"We can't just break into their house."
"Someone's awake, we heard them." He tried the door. It swung in. "Hello?" he called. "Hello?"
He flipped a switch, but it only turned off the porch light. He flipped it again. "Can you see a light switch anywhere?"
"No."
"Oh. Sorry. Do you want to stay here?"
"Yes, please."
He went around a corner and disappeared. His footsteps went across the room and up the stairs, out of earshot. I waited.
The front door swung shut with a creak, and the lock clicked into place. I couldn't open it.
The porch light went out.
"Are you sure? How can you tell in the dark?"
"Of course," he said. "There's a bridge. We can get over the creek up there and then find a hill, and then we'll be able to see those lights I saw earlier. We'll find a house or someone who can help us or something."
I craned my neck to see, but couldn't.
He was hurrying ahead, and I followed behind as quickly as I could, half-running on my shorter legs to the edge of the creek. It was wider here than it had been upstream, and had picked up speed. Spray coated the stones of the bridge. I sprawled.
He stopped. "Are you all right?"
"I lost my glasses. Can you see them?"
"Glasses. Glasses. I don't see them."
"Well, without them I can't see anything, especially not in the dark, so do you mind maybe looking harder?"
"Oh, sure. Of course."
I felt in front of where I had landed, crawling cautiously toward the edge. "They're not--"
There was a splash.
"What happened?"
"I kicked them into the water." I said.
"We'll go slower," he said. "Do you think you can see enough to just follow me the rest of the way?" he said. I nodded, and took a deep breath. "Oh, love. It'll be fine."
"It'll be fine," I repeated.
We found the hill. "That looks like a house, right? Over there."
I could see a light. "Let's go."
From there we went about a mile, maybe a little more. The light was getting close. It was a porch light, he said. Someone definitely lived there, we would just have to wake them up.
He rang the doorbell. "It must be disconnected," he said, pressing it again. "Oh well." He knocked loudly.
Finally, footsteps came down the stairs. "Good, someone's awake," he said, then stopped to listen.
"Where did they go?" I said. We waited again.
"I wonder if it's locked," he said.
"We can't just break into their house."
"Someone's awake, we heard them." He tried the door. It swung in. "Hello?" he called. "Hello?"
He flipped a switch, but it only turned off the porch light. He flipped it again. "Can you see a light switch anywhere?"
"No."
"Oh. Sorry. Do you want to stay here?"
"Yes, please."
He went around a corner and disappeared. His footsteps went across the room and up the stairs, out of earshot. I waited.
The front door swung shut with a creak, and the lock clicked into place. I couldn't open it.
The porch light went out.
1.19.2012
commonplaces
Every true poet is inevitably a Columbus. America existed for centuries before Columbus, but only Columbus succeeded in discovering it.
(Yevgeny Zamyatin, We p. 66)
May you say the things I have tried to say long after I am not there to say them.
(G. B. Smith, in his final letter to J. R. R. Tolkien)
She smiled, her last smile, to so much that had been possible.
(Ayn Rand, We the Living p. 446)
...[I]n Fantasy [man] may actually assist in the effoliation and multiple enrichment of creation. All tales may come true; and yet, at the last, redeemed, they may be as like and as unlike the forms that we give them as Man, finally redeemed, will be like and unlike the fallen that we know.
(J. R. R. Tolkien, "On Fairy-Stories")
(Yevgeny Zamyatin, We p. 66)
May you say the things I have tried to say long after I am not there to say them.
(G. B. Smith, in his final letter to J. R. R. Tolkien)
She smiled, her last smile, to so much that had been possible.
(Ayn Rand, We the Living p. 446)
...[I]n Fantasy [man] may actually assist in the effoliation and multiple enrichment of creation. All tales may come true; and yet, at the last, redeemed, they may be as like and as unlike the forms that we give them as Man, finally redeemed, will be like and unlike the fallen that we know.
(J. R. R. Tolkien, "On Fairy-Stories")
Making plans is often the occupation of an opulent and boastful mind, which thus obtains the reputation of a creative genius by demanding what it cannot itself supply, by censuring what it cannot improve, and by proposing what it does not know where to find.
(Immanuel Kant, Prolegomena, preface p. 7)
1.11.2012
glass project
Over Thanksgiving break in Boise, Jordan and I got to wax creative at Fusions glass studio. This is what I ended up with: a 5.5 x 10-inch plate.
1.10.2012
thesis bibliography (in progress)
Aristotle. The Basic Works of Aristotle. Edited by Richard McKeon. New York: The Modern Library, 2001.
Burgess, Anthony. A Clockwork Orange. New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 1986.
Chesterton, G. K. The Everlasting Man. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Christian Classics, 2007.
----. Heretics. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Christian Classics, 2007.
----. Manalive. Mineola, NY: Dover Publications, 2000.
----. Orthodoxy. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Christian Classics, 2006.
Dick, Philip K. The Minority Report: And Other Classic Stories by Philip K. Dick. New York: Citadel Press, 2002.
Golding, William. Lord of the Flies. New York: Perigree Books, 1954.
Hawke, Ethan, Uma Thurman, Alan Arkin, Jude Law, and Loren Dean. Gattaca. Directed by Andrew Niccol. Culver City, CA: Sony Pictures Home Entertainment, 1997.
Hitchens, Peter. The Rage Against God: How Atheism Led Me to Faith. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2010.
Huxley, Aldous. Brave New World. Toronto, ON: Vintage Canada, 2007.
----. Brave New World Revisited. London: Flamingo, 1994.
James, P. D. The Children of Men. London: The Penguin Group, 1994.
Lewis, C. S. Mere Christianity. New York: HarperCollins, 2001.
----. The Screwtape Letters. New York: HarperCollins, 2001.
Locke, John. The Second Treatise of Government and a Letter Concerning Toleration. Mineola, NY: Dover Publications, 2002.
Lowry, Lois. The Giver. New York: Dell Laurel-Leaf Books, 2002.
Moore, Alan and David Lloyd. V for Vendetta. New York: DC Comics, 1989.
More, Thomas, Francis Bacon, and Henry Neville. Three Early Modern Utopias: Utopia, New Atlantis, and The Isle of Pines. New York: Oxford University Press, 2008.
Orwell, George. 1984. Markham, ON: Penguin Books, 1984.
Pascal, Blaise. Pensees and Other Writings. Edited by Anthony Levi. Translated by Honor Levi. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008.
Plato. The Republic. Translated by Allan Bloom. New York: Basic Books, 1991.
Portman, Natalie, and Hugo Weaving. V for Vendetta. DVD. Directed by James McTeague. Burbank, CA: Warner Home Video, 2006.
Rand, Ayn. Anthem. New York: Signet, 1946.
----. Atlas Shrugged. New York: Signet, 2007.
----. The Fountainhead.
----. The Virtue of Selfishness. New York: Signet, 1964.
Tolkien, J. R. R. A Tolkien Miscellany. New York: The Houghton Mifflin Company, 2002.
Wells, H. G. The Time Machine: An Invention. New York: Modern Library Classics, 2002.
----. When the Sleeper Wakes.
Zamyatin, Yevgeny. We. Translated by Mirra Ginsburg. New York: Eos, 1999.
Burgess, Anthony. A Clockwork Orange. New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 1986.
Chesterton, G. K. The Everlasting Man. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Christian Classics, 2007.
----. Heretics. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Christian Classics, 2007.
----. Manalive. Mineola, NY: Dover Publications, 2000.
----. Orthodoxy. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Christian Classics, 2006.
Dick, Philip K. The Minority Report: And Other Classic Stories by Philip K. Dick. New York: Citadel Press, 2002.
Golding, William. Lord of the Flies. New York: Perigree Books, 1954.
Hawke, Ethan, Uma Thurman, Alan Arkin, Jude Law, and Loren Dean. Gattaca. Directed by Andrew Niccol. Culver City, CA: Sony Pictures Home Entertainment, 1997.
Hitchens, Peter. The Rage Against God: How Atheism Led Me to Faith. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2010.
Huxley, Aldous. Brave New World. Toronto, ON: Vintage Canada, 2007.
----. Brave New World Revisited. London: Flamingo, 1994.
James, P. D. The Children of Men. London: The Penguin Group, 1994.
Lewis, C. S. Mere Christianity. New York: HarperCollins, 2001.
----. The Screwtape Letters. New York: HarperCollins, 2001.
Locke, John. The Second Treatise of Government and a Letter Concerning Toleration. Mineola, NY: Dover Publications, 2002.
Lowry, Lois. The Giver. New York: Dell Laurel-Leaf Books, 2002.
Moore, Alan and David Lloyd. V for Vendetta. New York: DC Comics, 1989.
More, Thomas, Francis Bacon, and Henry Neville. Three Early Modern Utopias: Utopia, New Atlantis, and The Isle of Pines. New York: Oxford University Press, 2008.
Orwell, George. 1984. Markham, ON: Penguin Books, 1984.
Pascal, Blaise. Pensees and Other Writings. Edited by Anthony Levi. Translated by Honor Levi. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008.
Plato. The Republic. Translated by Allan Bloom. New York: Basic Books, 1991.
Portman, Natalie, and Hugo Weaving. V for Vendetta. DVD. Directed by James McTeague. Burbank, CA: Warner Home Video, 2006.
Rand, Ayn. Anthem. New York: Signet, 1946.
----. Atlas Shrugged. New York: Signet, 2007.
----. The Fountainhead.
----. The Virtue of Selfishness. New York: Signet, 1964.
Tolkien, J. R. R. A Tolkien Miscellany. New York: The Houghton Mifflin Company, 2002.
Wells, H. G. The Time Machine: An Invention. New York: Modern Library Classics, 2002.
----. When the Sleeper Wakes.
Zamyatin, Yevgeny. We. Translated by Mirra Ginsburg. New York: Eos, 1999.
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