A Fish Story

Yesterday Kristen and I went to nearby city name here, to raid the second hand stores and have a good time. After we had done that, we decided to go for a walk in the woods. So we did. We walked, and walked, and walked, up hill and down, fording canyons, climbing mountains, till we came to a beautiful mountain lake. We waded in the crystal clear waters until our feet almost had hypothermia, and then we decided to go fishing. Now i realize this was an illegal decision, but we had to survive somehow! We had no food. Only our jack knives, the clothes on our back, an etch-a-sketch, and Kristen's purse. By some great good luck we found a fish hook, about 25 feet of fishing line, a weight, a stick, and a pine cone for a float. So we fished. We could see the fish swimming around, great huge things. We could tell they were huge because everyone knows that if fish look small in the water, they are really huge. And they were smart. They kept jumping out in the middle of the lake, taunting us. For bait we had a piece of yellow string on our hook, that looked remarkably like a worm, and a fly that Kris caught. So we sat there and watched the huge fish come closer and closer. They circled. They swam away. They brought their buddies. Then this particularly large one came right up to the hook, and we thought we had him - almost - just another inch - here fishy fishy! - that's right - nibble nibble - SPLASH! A muskrat dove into the lake and scared it away. We were that close! But, alas, it got away.
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okay. who can deduce from that what really happened?
corrianne

She stood next to the stall. Her arms buried deep in the midst of some cow covered in udder rub, iodine, and, well, waste. There was also a pair of gloves if you bothered to look hard enough. She was rubbing vigorously in a futile attempt to cure the poor animal of it's mastitis. It was then she noticed him looking at her. A cheeky smile upon his face. She should have expected his next question. But because she was young, innocent, and different then most, she did not.
"So is Kristen courting anyone?"
the milking machine was turned off, so it was not possible that she had misheard. Yet her reply was unmistakable.
"Who?" Her voice betrayed her disbelief before she had time to hold it down. She knew no Christian. Other then the nine year old in New York. And he could not possibly mean herself.
"Kristen." This time there was no mistaking the name. His smile remained as though he did not fully understand what the shock in her voice had easily conveyed.
Despite a rapidly racing mind she had no time to come up with a more witty reply then,
"No." This time there was she was over disbelief and her voice contained none other then mirth equal to, and perhaps surpassing, his. She found the very idea humorous.
Immediately after the word had passed her full and pale lips she regretted not adding "heck". More adamant.
"That's o.k. Nothing wrong with that."
She returned to her work but something remained on her mind. Was She supposed to think there was something wrong with it? Was every girl meant to yearn after male companionship of a more intimate kind? Did every girl want a boyfriend? How can you possibly have as much fun if you're not single? Especially in the courtship type relationship where it takes forever to get passed holding hands. What exactly was wrong with going through life figuring that if the right person comes along at the right time, that's cool. And if not, more power!
Also another question tugged at her mind. Was it still expected that homeschoolers couldn't possible date? Clearly she was expected to pursue any relationship through courtship. And who freakin cared what you called it anyway. A couple is a couple. Note the period at the end of the sentence.
And what exactly is she doing posting this in her blog anyway?

have you ever had this feeling that you're playing house on a very major level. Only my current game is a bit different then the ones I played as a kid. First of all, no husband or kid's of my size and intelligence, I need not spend my days cooking. And somehow I don't ever remember needing to go to work in those childhood senerios.
But there definitely are similarities. Heck, I own a house, I drive a car. I shop, do cook on occasion, and even bother with a bit of cleaning now and then. All the same, it's just life in a slightly different way. A different place to come home to. A different set of rules, and a bunch more freedom accompanying that responsibility. Only, I don't think it's quite a fair trade, because it looks like this. I have the responsibility to get up and go to work. I also have the freedom to sleep in if I want to. Somehow the responsibility always wins out.
What else? The Fall Fair came to pass between now and my last post. Ahh, country fairs. Somewhat dull, low quality, and time consuming. Somehow I remember them being a highlight of the year. And it was still o.k. Just not as good as I remember. Probably has something to do with,
A. Not having my typical Fair friend (Cor, and possibly Rach) to wonder around with. Cor got sick (how you feeling, by the way?).
B. Not having entered anything for the first time in absolutely forever.
Anyway, this morning I got up an hour early (meaning 2:15) on accident. Proceeded to get dressed and drive to work before finally realizing my mistake. Blond! So I huddled in my car for an hour until it was really time fore milking. However, the result is currently a very tired me. I did get the afternoon off, and used it to wander the fair. But work went late in the morning. Had to help throw a couple hundred bales of straw. My part on the line was the easy one though, just moving them from belt to belt. Sometimes being the girl comes in handy.
Also a tad sore. Judo has started up again for the year. It's good to have something like that to keep me going. Or not. But yup, I enjoy it. Also remotely thinking of starting hockey this year. Setbacks, I don't think Meg would appreciate me joining the team (she's goalie). I don't want to pay for the priviledge, and I'm not outfitted with equipment. Oh well, it is a great sport though (speaking of which Canada just beat out Russia for the world cup in sudden death ot tonight). But I probably won't even be able to play homeschool hockey this year as work tends to interfere with things I want to do. Oh well, Maybe I'll be able to get it off.
Anyway, perhaps I ought to go be social. So I suppose that's it for now.
And to give me a little more motivation, WOULD SOMEBODY PLEASE COMMENT (even a fake person would be nice *G*)?

We're being way too crazy and having way too much fun. Here's what we have to say.
Cor-It's good to be home and having a good time with all my good dear weird and beloved friends.
Me-Meg, what do you have to say?
Meg-I don't know
Me-(she's somewhat boring)
Rach-HeyKristen is crazy. Her cell phone just went off and she couldn't figure out how to get it out of her bag to answere it. Yup. oh wait, she got it :) She's still crazy though.
Jen-Kris is awsome, but she should do some serious thinking on the subject of deoderant and personal hygein, I think it would inprove her chances ;P
Me-Jen has to do some serious spelling. She even asked how to spell about three words. And, improve my chances for what?
Sarah-The only reason I am writing on this is because Kris said that she would write and say that I was dull if I did not.And as if that was not enough, she added insult to ingury and stole my chair.If I was not so darn
hyper I would be thoroughly mad.I will go now.Goodbye.
Joy-I don't have a lot to say.

Oooh yes. Great time with cousins. But simply no computer time.
Anyway, I'm still alive up here. And I'm sorry my blog is so deathly boring as of late.

Well, it's now official. I find myself computerless. Currently at the library. Which is o.k. But I don't have the time to think of anything decent to write. I have the afternoon of work. Very nice. Gives me time to hang uptown, even if it need be only with my sis.
Cousins coming soon. I'm taking a full five days off work to camp up the lake. Rock on. I haven't been up there yet this year, but I've been determined to go. It's always fun hanging out with cousins. Very much a part of summer since they've come every year except maybe one or two. I happen to be the third oldest of nigh thirty. Order, guy, guy, girl (me), guy, guy.
Meg just tells me that a friends friend is going to the next winter Olympics for skiing. I think her name is Leanne. Watch for her. My Dad worked for a guy who was on the juniour soviet union team. But it was back when they were commies so they couldn't compete with other nations.
Speaking of sports in general, Nicolas Gill is out of the Olympics, eliminated in his first fight. Big disappointment, but he wasn't expected to get better then bronze. Just so you know, Nicolas Gill is a judoka. Biggest name in Canada for the sport, and placed silver at the last olympics, I think. I'm working on educating the world. I'm very upset with CBC judo coverage. Despite looking at several schedules I have yet to watch a match.
Anyhow, that's all I have to say. I suppose I'll try to get out another post next time I'm here, even if it's just a newsy rambly one like this.
So, better worse? I'm assuming you'll like the old blog better. But who knows.
Best of luck to the rest of Canada's athletes (we have, like, one bronze so far. Pathetic no? We do so way better in the winter sports).

Tonight my boss and his family are off to see a movie, my sis is also baby-sitting for someone off to see the same movie (that kinda happens when you've only got one theatre in town). Apparently the flick has been packed every night it's played.
Fahrenheit 9/11.
Why the controversy? Why are people so eager to see it? Heck, this is Canada. As close as we are to the States it's surprising that an American movie on American politics and issues would be so well attended. A documentary none the less. This is no Titanic or Lord of the Rings. One has to wonder how eagerly Americans are flocking to theatres.
Not to mention the movie doesn't seem to be very well accredited Even the people (see judo forums discussion) who said it was good said that they felt it was screwing the truth. Then again, there are the miscellaneous bloggers I've read who have said how eye opening it is and how it should be required watching for every American before the election hits. I tend towards the opinion that they would be of the group of people easily swayed to base their vote upon that type of thing. The group who somehow thinks that any documentary must be based entirely on fact and fall for one-sided arguments.
I myself am no Bush fan. But I wouldn't want to be American, because given the choice of Bush and Kerry I'm afraid I would be obligated to go with Bush due to his stands against abortion, gay marriage, and other moral issues. Not to mention the simple fact that he sits as head of the conservatives. But his involvement in many American problems seems very low key and in admirable unless it somehow involves terrorism or missile protection. Still, the biggest issue for me is his war in Iraq which, for various reasons, I don't support. Kudos to Chretian for keeping us out of the mess in the first place.
So there's my once a decade rant on American politics. I don't suppose I'm even allowed to have an opinion on it, especially as I don't claim to be overly educated in the area. But what is a blog for if not to let people know your thoughts?

Oh yeah, and speaking of people who are swayed by one-sided documentarys,
I don't think the American ever landed on the moon.

I've never claimed to be much of an Elvis fan. Glittery white suits and bushy sideburns don't do much for me. I can't sing any of his songs and can only name you the big ones. Heartbreak hotel, Blue suede shoes, Jailhouse rock.
Still, my Mom, on one of her library excursions, picked up a movie on his life and performances. It was well watching it that I learned to make a distinction between the young Elvis and old Elvis. The pre-married pre-army Elvis was the one with the young face, jean jacket, and black Elvis-hair falling over his eyes while strumming a guitar and shocking the world with his moves. The after-divorce, addicted-to-prescription drugs is the older Elvis with the oversized gold belt and bellbottoms.
My point is the younger Elvis doesn't necessarily go along with the whole Elvis stigma. He still has the Elvis hair but I never saw him in anything overly gold. And is the Elvis hair all that bad? It probably has something to do with my whole attraction to the fifties, but I don't find it revolting.
And on his music, if you happen to like old rock it's o.k. It's beyond my parents age, more my grandparents. The whole beginning of rock and roll. Before the Beatles, U2, Pink Floyd, or Bob Dylan. The last music frontier. And I suppose he led it.
But I still like Buddy Holly better.

I had the most horrible afternoon at work today. And I don't want to talk about it.
But I will, just because it's what happens to be on my mind at present.
See, often cows will get mastitis (city folks (Sped, if you ever come by again) it's a sickness from not getting milked clean). After you find out they have mastitis you treat them (stick needles or whatnot into them) and then milk the treated milk into a separate bucket so it doesn't go into the tank. My biggest fear has always been putting the milk into the tank. And today I did it. I still don't know exactly how it happened. I was pretty sure I had the bucket hooked up to the machine. But it went into the tank somehow, a whole quarter gallon or something *gasp*. Almost half the milk was ruined, and we had to drain it.
The sight was incredible. Fifty gallons of milk pouring from the tank, flooding the floor, and swirling down the drain. I have never seen so much milk in my life. I would have been quite impressed except for it just made me feel sick.
I have prayed earnestly and often that I never put mastitis milk in the tank. So I don't know exactly why it had to happen. Admittedly it doesn't make a girl very grateful.
How honest do you think God likes you to be with him. Does he like you to think, "You know God, I didn't appreciate that. I'm a little annoyed" if that's how you really feel? Because, I, personally, think you better say how you feel, because he knows anyway. But you have to have this constant reminder that, hey, don't get thinking you know better then him.
Still...I really see know reason I had to have that happen...
Beyond that, I'm living in someone else's house again. And they didn't leave internet, so I'm not home very often at all. Lot's of interesting thoughts pass through my head though. I just don't have the time or resources to record them for your reading pleasure. So I guess they'll just have to settle for my real journal, as they have been. Plus, I can say a whole lot more there *evil grin*.

What do you think about spirit?  I don't mean soul, as in the part of you that heads out after you're dead.  I mean that something in you. 
Does spirit only refer to the rebels in us?  The dreamers and doers.  How about the term "free spirit"?  Can someone's spirit be their piousness or gentleness?
Can a spirit be broken?  Is it wrong to break someone's spirit?  Is it better to have your spirit broken (I'm speaking mostly to the rebels here)?  Doubtless it's easier.  Can any spirit be broken?  If not how come it's in the young that the stuff seems to abound?  Does it naturally mellow out with age and experience?  Is it broken or just contained to the point where it seems natural.
Does this spirit even exist?  Is it just the fiestiness of those who won't bend and don't know their limits?  Maybe it's just a term for those who still have fight left in them. 
Is it actually something your born with?  Why do some of us seem to have more then others?  Can you learn to resist it early?  How do we know if we have "spirit".  Or do we all have spirit, just different kinds?  Is it something we should try to keep?  Even think about?  Or is it natural? 
Heh, I don't have the answers, but enough opinions to last awhile.  But I'll let you come to your own conclusions.