various terse ramblings

Now Playing: "The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe" soundtrack by Harry Gregson-Williams. Track 15, "Wunderkind".

This is an edited journal entry. It's late--hence the brief language. Well, it seems brief to me, but when I actually sit down and look at the length of this thing, it's not. *groan* My fingers just keep dancing, like children to the Pied Piper.

If things are unclear, that's because I should have been either in bed or studying by now. Ask any questions you like.

As I settled in to practice my flute this morning after breakfast, Syneva came by and knocked on the practice-room door. We chatted for a little. She told me that Amanda had called her this morning, and that they’d had a good talk. Amanda is studying abroad in Spain this semester. Both Amanda’s “house mother”, her hostess, and her roommate are Catholic, which makes for some strange situations: her roommate sleeps with a rosary clutched in one hand.

I had MBW at 9:00 as usual. Dr. F was on a trip, so a substitute taught the class—Wuthering Heights. Next came archaeology, more site formation processes and discussion of the effect that wind and water have on artifacts. After archaeology, I sat in my room and furiously read Wuthering Heightsuntil 11:45, when I dashed downstairs to meet Mrs. L (she's a brisk little Chinese woman who has asked me to tutor her daughter Karis). She arrived at the Lottie parking lot in her long, maroon, fifteen-passenger van, to take me to her house for lunch and to give Karis a first lesson in poetry. She had all her children with her: Karis, the eldest, who’s twelve; Joshua and Thaddeus (I think those names are correct) who are young boys, probably eight or so—very lively; Hannah, a little girl who’s perhaps five or six, and Benjamin, the two-year-old.

The children all ogled me from the back seats and then, deciding almost immediately that I was not a threat, began to chatter, argue, giggle, etc. Mrs. L told me all about her extended family as we drove south through Tulsa to their neighborhood on the outskirts of the city. We passed through dense areas of businesses, restaurants, and hospitals. Traffic was thick. Finally, we pulled up over a steep hill and saw a deep, narrow valley, with another hill blue on the other side. Elegant houses lined both sides of the road, sheltering comfortably under grey trees. The Ls’ house is one of these—an older house, large, one story, with big windows. Joshua and Thaddeus found a good deal to tell me as we trooped inside. Hannah burbled quietly about her coat and her boots while Karis helped her to take them off. In the kitchen, I helped Mrs. L serve gigantic helpings of rice and split-pea soup into enormous bowls. Her father, a wizened Chinese man, stepped out of one of the back rooms to greet me and beam at me through thick glasses. All the children, Mrs. L, and myself sat down together to lunch. The boys brought out chips and eagerly suggested that I use them instead of my spoon. They chattered, tongues rushing over one another, about Narnia and LOTR, and all the books and toys they had related to these two. They prattled at me about their swords and bows-and-arrows, and asked me all sorts of questions about whether I thought balrogs or Moria to be frightening (they staunchly declared that such things weren’t scary at all). Karis listened and smiled at me occasionally, while Hannah occasionally lisped a corroboration to the boys’ tales through thick mouthfuls of soup. Benjamin stared at me between spoonfuls of soup that his mother poked into his plump mouth.

After lunch, Karis showed me the four anthologies that Mrs. L bought for me to use with her. Karis and I sat down in the living room under the skylight and started our lesson. I used the Grammar of Poetry book that my mother had given me to work through years ago. It turned out, as a pleasant surprise, that Karis is actually a good deal farther along than I had expected. She has a pretty firm grasp of rhyme, and understands such things as rhyme and meter. The trick will be to move her beyond mere understanding to get her to really use them—and I myself am not sure of that lesson, or of how I even began to understand it in my own writing. But I do know that reading good authors helps. I asked her if she’d like me to loan her some of my anthologies. She eagerly said, “Yes, please!”. I felt as though the first lesson must’ve seemed dull and scatter-brained to her.

Occasionally during the lesson the boys would peer in or hover around us. The children’s pet boa constrictor slumbered in its aquarium under a heat lamp on the bookshelf. Mrs. L was anxious that I return to campus on time, so we ended at 1:30 after barely half-an-hour of teaching. Karis and Hannah rode with us back to campus. Mrs. L dropped me off, and I walked straight over to Honors class. In Honors, we discussed the Rule of St. Benedict. Dr. A asked us what sorts of communities we’re considering. Russ described a community of soccer-playing monks who would honor God and witness through being good sports and excellent athletes. He couldn’t think of the word “witness”, and when Rachel supplied it for him, he leaped out of his chair and yelled, “YES!! That’s it! WITNESS!” so that she jumped back in surprise, and everyone laughed. Someone suggested that they play soccer in robes and cowls.

After class, I finished Wuthering Heights and also the second read-through of the Rule, in which we were supposed to look for personal/spiritual guidance for the monks (as opposed to the practical, every-day details from the first time through). My mind felt like a piece of mouldy bread. So I stretched and walked down the hall, to go out to the gym and run. On my way, Jenny called me into her room. She and Tara were looking at pictures from the RUF formal, and at a short digital video that someone had taken of the Virginia Reel. I stood and laughed with them at the pictures for awhile. They went to supper, and I ran. After I ran, I ate supper.

After supper, I came back to my room and thrashed out which poems I should send off to yet another small college magazine (at another college) for publication. One of my former teachesr in poetry gave this magazine my name. The editor-in-chief e-mailed me, soliciting submissions, so I sent her “Rain On the Day Before Communion Sabbath”, “Latin Tutorial at Sarah’s House”, and “Medicine Park, Oklahoma”. I have a deep dislike for all of them, except “Rain On…”. I kept scouring my files for something that was acceptable to publish (besides “Psyche”, which I’ve already sent to “Stylus”), and coming up with nothing. If I were to become a nun, my first resolution would be to give up showing people any poetry.

Bible study at 8:00 p.m. For a little, I was the only one in the lobby, so I amused myself by drawing sketches in my old journal. Then Crystal came in with a girl named Stephanie. Stephanie is a slim girl with close-set eyes behind narrow glasses, and a white face with pink lips. She and Crystal sat and chattered happily for awhile. Eleanor, James’s girlfriend, came, too. Eleanor is short, with brown hair and tanned skin. She laughs a lot—somehow, the name Eleanor fits her from LOTR, and is proper to James, for he likes LOTR, too. Rachel came, and so did Anne. Rachel told me about the paper she’s writing for biology class about pomegranates. Syneva arrived and stared at us all in surprise for a minute.

We had a good study, about Galatians 2:11-21. Anne made popcorn, and everyone munched it happily, leaving flakes of it on the floor like yellow pollen. Jenny wasn’t there because she had a meeting. After the Bible study, I walked Rachel out. She described to me the Honors House/LaFortune Hall dinner that she’d gone to tonight. They’d invited a speaker, a professor in psychology, to come after the meal and talk to them about romance in the workplace. Rachel said that it was entertaining, if rather strange. She sat at the table with all the other Honors House people. “Oh, the zoo,” I quipped, and she smiled slowly. It was cold outside, so we didn’t talk for very long. “I’m still trying to get used to the fact that it’s actually winter,” Rachel chuckled as she waved good-bye.

Now it's time for devotions and bed.