I miss the country

 I'm sick of the city. 

I miss dancing in the rain and playing hide-and-seek outside in the dark nearly every night.

I miss mud all over my boots and jeans, dirt under my nails, leaves in my messy bun, and my cheeks flushed red from the cold. I miss running around in the woods, riding bikes, and climbing trees till my muscles ache. I miss roasting apples and marshmallows over a big bonfire and watching the orange sparks float up against the dark blue sky like fireflies. I miss being actually able to see the stars instead of them hiding behind buildings or being too dim because of the city lights. I miss being able to run and shout and dance without neighbors being able to see or hear.

I miss home

a dream of mine

   Those of you who know me really well know that I have a soft spot for animals and kids. Those ads on tv showing the starving kids in Africa and such? They kill me. Whenever I hear a story or see pictures about orphans and such around the world, it makes me sad. It kills me seeing children being starving, dirty, and unloved. One missionary chick who visited a church I went to for a bit told us about some children in some country, the Philippines I think. These children were abandoned, and they have never even been touched. In there whole lives, nobody has ever touched them, or if they have, it wasnt pure. They have never had human contact, never had anyone hug them and kiss them and brush the tears away and tell them they are loved. When the missionaries started ministering to them and hugging them and sitting them in thier laps, the kids started crying. After never being touched in thier whole lives, this much love was just overwhelming. They shouldn't have to live like that. I wanna do something about it. When I give money to charities and such to help them, even though I know it helps them, I dont feel like Im doing anything. I dont feel like I am really making a difference. I have to be there, I have to hold them in my arms and hug them and love on them and bless them with anything I can offer with my own hands. Then I feel like I am actually making an impact. SO. Ive had this dream of mine, for a while, something thats been on my heart that I wanna do. When Im older, I wanna buy a big old colonial mansion or farmhouse. Or any house, as long as its big and old (I love old things. They fascinate me. I dont know why.) Just buy a big old homey rustic mansion, with lots of land, something like this.

 

                                      I know, this one is abondoned, It just needs some love :)

A house like that, and just adopt a ton of kids and animals. Children of all ages and nationalties from all over the world. The broken, abandoned, unloved. And pets....cats, dogs, birds, and maybe a horse or two or three ;). And I'll just take care of them. Ill love them. I know, it would be chaos alot of the time. Haha if Im married by then, my husband will just have to deal with it! Cause this is what i really wanna do. This is whats been on my heart for a while. Thats all.

An Old Church

I may not be good at writing story lines and stuff, but I like descriptive writing. For my writing class, when we were doing  setting and tone, we had to write a paragraph and create a tone for a setting of our choice For example, a forest, depending on how you write it, could be scary, creepy, happy and sunny, old and nostalgic, or peaceful and calming. I chose an old abandoned church, so....here it is :) The tone I was going for was peaceful nostalgia, full of memories.

  At the end of  a little dirt path lies an old church. One can tell by the faded grey roof  and peeling white sides, it has been here countless years. The large door opens to reveal the still, humble sanctuary within. A faint, sweet smell emanates from the vase of dried, long forgotten flowers by the door.  At the wall by the entrance many little, shining brass hooks are positioned; some up high for large coats and flowing capes, while others are lower, meant for petite over coats and little scarves belonging to small children. The dusty floorboards let out the occasional soft creak. Many pews are arranged in rows on either side of the room.Each one is slightly chipped and worn to a smooth polish by so many hands, but the back ones most of all, for that is where the fidgeting children sat. Dust particles dance and float in the sunbeams streaming through the windows, giving the whole place a heavy, musty feel. Curious vines of ivy , once cut back by the hands of a  diligent care-taker, now peep through the white windows, threatening to creep inside and crawl their way into the still church. At the very back wall hangs a polished oak cross, draped with a faded purple cloth. Directly below lies the podium, where the pastors voice used to boom out passionately on some occasions , yet spoke softly and earnestly at others. The alter, where so many "Amens" and "I do's" were said. On a shelf beside the alter are many old, well-loved Bibles that smell heavily of musty leather, cracked and carresed by so many gentle hands, appraised by so many attentive eyes, eager to learn what the Lord had to teach. Such a still place, such a peacefull place. This surely is a place of memories.

this may sound weird

    I like old graveyards. I know, I know...that sounds kinda weird. But I don't mean in a creepy way. Ive always loved old things, particularly houses and buildings. Old mansions, abandoned churches, stuff like that. They fascinate me. Same with graveyards.There's nothing to be afraid of. Okay, maybe at night. But not because of ghosts or anything, I mean, the peoples souls are already either in Heaven or Hell. Its just scary at night because most everything is scary at night, to me. I don't really like to be outside at night, at least not alone. But I like them during the day, I like to walk through them. To read the little poems or verses on them, to calculate the persons age based on the dates engraved on the weathered stone, to imagine what they might have looked like, what their life would have been like back then. It's one of those things that is a feeling I have but I cant put into words very well. They are just so full of memories. It feels like Im connecting with the past, in a way. And they make me feel sad, but a good kind of sadness. A deep sadness, a sadness of remembering. I cant describe it properly, but some of you may know what I mean. Yeah, Im an emotional person.

No one is un-important

"Who's she?"

"Nobody important."

"Nobody important? Blimey, that's amazing. You know that in nine hundred years of time and space and I've never met anybody who wasn't important before."

 Yet again this goes back to Doctor Who. If there's one thing that show has taught me, its that no-one is unimportant. Everybody has a part to play. When I think about this idea, I immediately think about the people who have been killed, specifically aborted babies, about what they might have done. Sadly, at this very moment, there is probably a baby being aborted right now. But what if the baby was supposed to do something great, like grow up to greatly improve space travel, or make a major breakthrough in the struggle against cancer? Or what if it would do something less noticeable, but equally as important? What if, in 15 or 16 years, that child would have ended up befriending that one outcast girl at school who would have otherwise gone home that night to commit suicide? Or inspire one of its friends to become something great, a friend who previously thought they couldnt do anything worthwhile? But its not just aborted babies. I think everyone impacts some one or something in some way shape or form. When the Berlin wall was torn down, there was a quote found on it. It read something  like "Many little people doing many little things in many little places can change the world" The littlest thing you do could make a huge difference, even if you never knew it. So be careful what you do. Everyone is important. This is the kind of stuff I think about when I'm supposed to be doing History :P

what we do on fridays

So on Friday after co-op me and some friends went to a park. And we took lots of pictures ^_^

                               We found a Christmas ornament in a stream.....O.o

 Us taking a little break from walking....for no reason really. The awesome dude is Joseph, the cool looking chic in black is Cassia, and the pretty one in green  is Tabitha. :)

      Im sorry Cassia, but my first thought when i see this is "Flower gleam and glow....."

                                              A really cool tree. That is all.

           This one is actually one of the best. Joseph and some cute little purple berries of some kind.

We found some lovely animal death, as Nathan called it. A bunch of little grey and white feathers from some bird scattered all over the place.(The feathers, not the bird.)

 

             Tabitha being fabulous. ;D (I dont know why this one is in black and white)

                               Berries and sun ^_^

                                Berries and shadow O.o

                                                        <3

       And finally, a bench dedicated to some dead person. As Cassia said "Why would you dedicate a bench to someone? its like 'Oh, you got a statue up in your memory? Well I got a bench. A BENCH. Yeah, thats right. People put their butts on it. Beat that sucka. SWAG.'"

   All in all a great day. So now,  since yesterday was somewhat busy, Im relaxing with a cup of mint tea, chocolate chip cookies, and the Mystery of Edwin Drood by Charles Dickens :)