31 March 2007
29 March 2007
Hobgoblins unite!
Yesterday we had a lovely meeting of the Hobgoblin Literary Society, a fine little bunch of writers and RUFfians. Since Rachel didn't get to come, and since most of you have never been to one of our meetings, I thought I'd give some description:
I got back from some work and had twenty minutes until eight-thirty, when Hobgoblins was supposed to meet in the Lottie lobby. I lay down on the bench in the entry area and nearly fell asleep. Amy came down, and then Nicole, and then Tara and Jenny H. showed up, and later Andrew. Leslie came with
Amy and I finally managed to get people moving. We decided to go to the
At the coffeeshop, I had to park around the corner because there were so many cars parked up: I was rather afraid that the shop would be too crowded for us. We strolled down the sidewalk, meeting up with Nicole and her crew on the way. We were eight to start out: Jenny H., Leslie, Crystal, Nicole, Tara, Andrew, Amy, and myself. It turned out that the shop was comfortably empty, with perhaps the fewest people I’ve ever seen in it. In any case, the little side room, the curtained-off cubbyhole where Tara and I sat one evening several weeks ago, was empty, so we decided to roost in there. The two barristas, the man with the red hair and the young woman with the bleached hair, laughed and joshed at each other and at us as they took our orders. Leslie ordered tea and a banana nut muffin; Nicole and Tara both had lattes with fluffy cream floating on top.
We all settled down in the cubbyhole. I perched on a cushy black box, with just enough room for myself, my journal on my knees, and a saucer (with a blueberry scone on it), and a mug of Earl Grey tea. Jenny H. sat at the end of the fat leather couch next to me. Leslie sat in the middle, and
While Amy talked to us about C.S. Lewis, I shared my scone with Jenny H. It was crumbly and soft, with blueberries, and buttery. I’d put a bit too much sugar into the Earl Grey tea, but its bitterness still lingered pleasantly at the back of my throat—good tea and scone, one of the best combinations in the world. :o) The light from the tall black lamp lit the pottery-red walls with a gentle glow as Amy read some of Lewis’s intricate, philosophical verse. Then it was our turn. Nicole went first, with her serious loose verse; Jenny H. came next, her poetry always very physical; Leslie read a stunning sonnet, which surprised everyone. I read my Persephone poem (which is copied down below this post). Asher read next, an ekphrastic poem in response to the Dvorak cello concerto, giving concrete images to the music. Then Andrew read an angry, despairing poem, a cross between Ecclesiastes, Job, and Revelation, which he insisted was only half-done.
It was a lovely time. Time itself seemed to have stopped in our little cubbyhole behind the heavy green curtain. It seemed to let us sit, like a round brown pebble in a stream. We were all draped among the massive old furniture with our backpacks, cups, plates, cushions, bare feet, papers, and books all in a tangle. There came gentle bursts of talk from beyond the curtain. When I glanced at my watch and realized that it was ten forty-five, I was surprised. Everyone rose to go then. We trickled outside into the evening. The air was perfect, cool and warm. Pollen lingered on the air from the old elm and maple trees marching down the street in the tiny front yards of the little old sway-backed houses along the side lane. Maple seeds rattled down the cracked sidewalk. Silky red tulips swayed, purple in the darkness, in front of one of the houses. Lights shone in the long rectangular windows of the two blocks of brick flats at the end of the street—like miniature Scottish flats; they always remind me of
Amy and I drove back to campus together. We both praised the delightful evening we’d just spent. I explained to her the form of the ballad (our next assignment, after ekphrastic poetry). I was pretty tired when I got back to the room, but RCS wasn’t there. I discovered, to my chagrin, that Chris Harrison, the study abroad person at IFSA, had called me around noon, and our answering machine hadn’t showed it until now. I was somewhat concerned by her message, but decided just to go to bed since it was much too late to call. I read a little bit of Psalm 18 to quiet myself before I went to sleep.
And here's that poem. Yes, it's familiar, similar to "Persephone Revisited", which I posted on here awhile ago. I thought that this poem captured the darkness of the piece of music better. (When I read, Asher, who noticed "Persephone Revisited", said, "You wrote 'Revisited' before you wrote 'Persephone'? Awesome! Are you bending space and time?" Now that made me laugh....)
Persephone
From Adagio con moto, Sonata in E minor for flute, cello, and harpsichord, by J.S. Bach
I wander down the road: on either side,
The living towers of the trees turn black,
Flat figures on a brittle jar, the red
Of summer’s sunset fired to fragile clay.
The sun that lit the fields with green has turned
To wind, blown grass away in silver smoke.
The rain pelts petals on the ground, bruised brown.
These were my works: the trees like halls of gold,
The fields like silver flames, the colors’ bursts
That burst and break, like waves run on the shore
To drown themselves in sand. The red hills blow
Away, red leaves like potsherds on the wind,
My labors shattered with the shame of Fall.
Where can I look for rest? I searched for home,
Searched through the summer, though I knew that soon
Sun’s labors lost would ruin—I knew. Alone
Now, walking down this road into the dark,
I must move on, from season into season,
No place to rest or watch—even the snow,
The bite of winter, and the breath of cold,
The dragon-drink of ice will melt, and then
I must work on, toil on, to build another place.
Oh, oh, this world is empty, full of toil.
This broken ground is weary of its work—
Weary of thrusting up the grass again, weary
Of sowing yet another crop of snow.
Yet as the year revolves, so on I go,
Drag my brown body round the days, from door
To door, from Middle-Earth to Hell, and round
Again. When will there be a stop, when can
I cease revolving, cease this endless making,
This fruitlessness that frets along my way?
I raise my eyes unto the distant hills—
There I must spend these winter months, and mourn,
And when the summer comes, the trees will leaf,
But all will be an actor’s mask that smiles,
Green leaves to hide the grimace of the earth.
I raise my eyes again: along the west,
The sun is setting, and like wings the clouds
Wait, hovering, above the distant hills,
Their breasts lit by the last long breath of day,
The green light lingering on the formless hills.
25 March 2007
catching up quickly
The first part of last week was pretty busy: Lots of odds and ends of chores to be tidied up on Monday, studying to do, a paper to polish off for Thursday, etc. When Thursday came, though, things slowed down considerably. I spent Thursday afternoon taking a walk with Syneva in the neighborhood near Woodward Park, and then after our walk I drove to the park myself to take pictures of the tulips and trees, and to sit and read for awhile outside. I didn't do much "hanging out" with friends last week in Tulsa other than the usual Bible study times.
The weekend, though, was an amazing blessing. I rushed home after lunch Friday afternoon, and almost as soon as I got home, my family and I piled into the car to drive down to Marlow to visit Logan's family for the weekend. They live on a ranch--Logan's father works with carpentry and construction jobs, while also raising cattle. The visit was great fun. Their land was some of the most beautiful I've ever seen: a gorgeous mix of hills and woods and fields. The view from the back windows of their house was a rest to my eyes--behind their house, the land slopes gently down, over a freshly-disced field, to a couple of ponds, and then beyond that to a steep wooded hillside where oak, pecan, and cottonwood trees were just turning green, splashed with pink redbuds along the edge by the ponds.
Friday afternoon, as soon as we arrived, Autumn and Kady, Logan's sisters, introduced Laura and me to Chocolate, the calf they're keeping in a pen until it can be weaned. Dakota took us to the hutch where she keeps four doves and a rabbit named Cedar. After supper, Logan, Laura, Autumn, Kady, Dakota, and I all went for a walk down to the creek. Logan showed us a huge old oak tree and helped Autumn climb into it. We explored along the creek bed, while Cash and Stormy, the two dogs, splashed noisily through the water. Back at the house after our walk, everyone gathered together for dessert and to celebrate Logan's birthday. Logan's mother gave him a scrapbook full of pictures, a real treasure. Then a bunch of us kids played hide-and-seek outside in the dark with flashlights.
The next morning, during breakfast, Philip and Tanner, one of Logan's younger brothers, played chess, which kept all of us amused--they were being rather silly. Autumn let Laura help feed the calf. It slurped noisily on Laura's fingers before she gave it the bottle. Dakota, Autumn, Kady, Laura, and I spent most of the morning in the pasture with the horses and cattle. Dakota took Laura and me for rides on Comanche, the older of her two horses (the other horse, Yukon, is still in the process of being trained). It was wonderful to be outside in the strong wind and the sunshine, out in the fields with the animals. Dakota guided Comanche right down into a grove of lovely young redbud trees growing at the eastern edge of the pasture to show them to me. The dogs trotted companionably alongside, though Comanche nipped at Cash whenever he got the chance.
After lunch, my family left to drive back to Stillwater. Since Logan's spring break was over (last week was OSU's spring break), he followed my family back to Stillwater. Philip, Stephen, and I rode with him in his car. When we crossed over the Cimarron River, I was quite surprised to see how full it was--the sandbanks were all covered by rushing brown water.
Today was a good day, of course, being at church. We had Communion in the morning service. It was hard to go back to Tulsa again: Not so much leaving Stillwater, necessarily, but the constant pull of being on the move all the time, never being able to rest in one place. I listened to the Brahms "Requiem" on the drive back: "Here on earth have we no continuing place...." But, "Blessed are they who dwell in Thy courts. They praise Thy name evermore...."
And some pictures from the visit to Marlow are up on photobucket!
22 March 2007
for the eyes
Odds and ends of things. The magnolias are from the week before spring break. The redbuds and the backhoe are from today.
thoughts
This CD reminds me almost painfully of last summer. Listening to the first track was like being in Scotland all over again because I listened to the first track over and over again while I was over there. It reminded me of Stillwater, planting zinnias, Laura baking bread, Mississippi kites, and carwashing with the other three hobbits. Now it reminds me of that, but also of sitting on the back step of the church next to a hundred-year-old rosebush, driving through the rain from St. Andrew's, climbing the parapet at Sterling, lying exhausted on my bed after washing lunch dishes, and hiking up steep hills on narrow, windswept streets. One of my favorite tracks on this album is "Kneel Before Him". It's very pure and hymn-like, like a candle flame burning clearly upward. I suppose I like it so much because last summer was exhausting, and, in some senses, very lonely--I felt as though I was burning myself up for God, and the only thing that gave me strength was the simple knowledge that I was obeying Him.
This music has such lighthearted simplicity. When your aim in life is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever, things do tend to become more simple: You can occupy yourself with honoring Him only, and find your reputation and your hopes secure in Him, and in the knowledge that He has accepted you for Christ's sake no matter how tired you are or how often you fail in the eyes of others. It is hard to remember these things all the time, though--amazing how forgetful we can be!
The spring here in Tulsa is so lovely this year! I've refrained from saying too much about nature because I've had some rather nasty feelings that this sort of wide-eyed delight isn't too much appreciated by most people. Cliches and pretty flowers and such. Last night one of the guys who's joined us in a little literary society argued that rap is the only kind of poetry still in use in the modern world, and that it has close ties to ancient Greek civilization. The idea is abrasive to me simply because I see so little good in that art form, to be honest: The culture surrounding it is depraved and violent, and I can find nothing in it that is edifying to a Christian or aesthetically pleasing. (It was noted in the course of the meeting that Christian rap usually isn't very good.) In the face of a culture that values rap so highly, my style of poetry and writing must seem very pastel-pretty and watery. I have to wonder why this attraction to nature and to old high far-off things shining in the depths of time. It is puzzling.
The elm trees here are putting on fuzzy seeds, bright green--not as thick as leaves, to obscure the black pattern of the branches underneath, but like tiny green beads strung on thick black thread. And the maple trees are decked out in damp red seeds. Interesting, how maple trees go out red in the fall and come back red in the spring. The redbuds and dogwoods and pear trees are thicker and more lush with blossoms than I've ever seen them before. Over by Oliphant, there are some redbud trees as heavy with flowers as fast-flowing water with foam. The winter's good snow seems to have brought out all their different colors--you think of redbuds as being plain pink, but these trees modulate in shades from deep rose to lilac to violet to rich purple to cream and white, each one with a different color.
God made it all, and He saw that it was very good.
I don't hold with Evolution! In Honors we're starting a unit on Darwin. A grand delusion, I think. People will get rid of God in any way they can, even if it means extrapolating hugely from the evidence. The real trouble, though, is the unwillingness to keep Scripture as the highest standard. What they want is to make Scripture below science, or, if they're like our professor (who's a rather wishy-washy chap), at least to claim that Scripture and science are equal. God's authority won't be equalled or subdued. And having a creation that just arose, poof, by chance, seems not only unlikely but also "unfitting" somehow. Looking out at the spring, seeing everything starting to bloom and grow, is a matter of hope and thanksgiving for me. But if you take away God, then it's all just the product of slime and electricity, and the cycles of nature that everyone praises so much are without point or hope.
Well, I'm going to go finish up some e-mails now.
Thus ends this little "blast from the past"....
18 March 2007
back to the old salt mine
I nearly spelled "college" with a "d". So if this post seems weird, blame my fingers....
Last week was spring break. Ah, blissful spring break! :o)
On Wednesday night, we had Bible study at our house. I spent most of the afternoon reading a book that Daniel (in Tulsa) had loaned me, a modern setting of a fairy tale. The story was interesting, but the writing wasn't particularly enchanting. Logan came over for supper and helped get the house ready for Bible study since my father and Philip were both down at another tournament game. The Yosts and Parnells came to the study. An old friend of the church showed up late in the evening and spent quite awhile chatting with everyone. My mother, Stephanie, and I stood outside in the cool evening, talking and watching Laura play with Stephanie's two young children. Rather an amusing sight: Laura swung Raychel in circles in the air, while Joseph toddled around waving a stick.
Thursday was another fairly quiet day. Stephen and I spent the morning watching an old TV series of Dorothy Sayers's The Nine Tailors. He lounged on the sofa while I scrapbooked. My father's parents came over for lunch. Since the day was rather chilly, my mother fixed hot potato soup for lunch, which was really good. In the afternoon, Laura went off to spend the night with my mother's mother. I went for a walk alone around San Born Lake. I'd intended to do some thinking, but the woods were so lovely that I found myself simply reveling in God's goodness: the pure white plumes of the pear trees, the songs of cardinals, the warm breeze. Later on, my parents and Philip went to a tournament game, leaving Stephen and me at home to hold down the fort. During supper, at Stephen's request, we watched some Three Stooges episodes, and after supper, we played basketball together until Logan showed up. We went for a walk around Boomer Lake, which was very pleasant and even refreshing. Back at home, Stephen and I spent the evening quietly in the schoolroom: He played computer games while I typed up a journal entry, and we both laughed at the antics of the cats, who went wrestling around the schoolroom, pouncing on each other.
Friday was somewhat of a hassle for me. In the morning I had a meeting with the Parnells, which was pleasant, but when I returned home, my grandmother was there for lunch. Then I had to do the lunch dishes, drive Stephen to the gym to hang out with J.D. and Daniel, fill out ten more pages of unexpected paperwork from the study abroad program, and whip my room into shape for Sarah, who came to visit after Irish dance. We ate an early supper, and then all of us (my whole family and Sarah) drove down to the City for yet another tournament basketball game. It was a great game: The boys played spectacularly and won by sixteen points. Afterwards, Sarah spent the night at our house. We stayed up for awhile, chatting quietly in my room in the dark before we fell asleep.
On Saturday, Sarah and I took a stroll outside in the wind and sunshine, talking quietly and laughing. Then, after taking Sarah home, my mother and I went shopping. We bought all sorts of good fruits and vegetables: bananas, pears, strawberries, cabbage, celery, carrots, grapefruit. I like being at home because everything is more "real"--not the sterilized, packaged feel of campus, where life is lived on a grid. As soon as we got home, I rang Elizabeth up in something of a panic, between scurrying around, doing loads of laundry and packing my suitcase, to ask her if she would like to come to the game this afternoon. She said she would. So on our way out of town after lunch (my mother made spicy Thai noodles--can you tell I like her cooking? :o), we stopped by the Fs' house briefly to pick her up. The boys played their championship game for the 3A division. Philip's team lost. It was his last game in highschool. It was a bit disappointing, but they played pretty well considering the team they were against. After the game, Philip, Laura, and my father went out to eat with the boys' basketball team. My mother, Elizabeth, Stephen, and I turned around (we had taken two cars--my father had the Buick, and my mother had the minivan) to drive back to Stillwater. We stopped and ate supper at a Cracker Barrel, which was a jolly good time. Teasing Stephen is great fun, as is watching Elizabeth try to figure out the pegboard game. :o) On our way back to Stillwater, we stopped in Guthrie to meet up with the Stewarts, a family from Kansas who were also at the tournament. They followed us back to Stillwater. After we dropped Elizabeth off at her house, we escorted the Stewarts back to our house. My mother played the model hostess, getting them settled into their rooms, providing them water, and talking enthusiastically about all sorts of things. I would've stayed up, but I was tired, so I elected to disappear quietly to bed.
Today was the Lord's Day. Mr. Parnell preached yet another convicting message about charity (he's been giving a series about that lately). And there were the usual fellowship pleasures: Laughing with the Fisher girls about old pranks, listening to Anna and Logan discuss theology, telling an outlandish story to a troop of little girls, frisking around in the sunshine after second service, watching J.D. and Calvin hunt for boxelder bugs, hearing Sarah and co. discuss robotics and youth retreats, etc. My father read to us when we returned home, which was restful. After supper I spent awhile up in my room, reading "The Weight of Glory" by C.S. Lewis, to give me motivation for the week ahead. He reminds me of God's delight in His people and of the importance of treating others as God's creations. We had family worship, and then I left Stillwater at about seven-thirty to drive back to Tulsa. On campus, I drove past the Penthouse, but the light was out. When I reached the room, Rachel greeted me with open arms. We shared stories about our weeks while I unpacked.
And now it's time for bed!
Please pray for contentment and skill in this week ahead. Coming back to school won't be easy, and the lion's share of the semester's work is crammed into the next six or seven weeks.
13 March 2007
spring days
Spring break.... What a blessing!
Last Friday, as I was sitting down at the computer to take my Music History exam in the computer lab in the library, I checked my e-mail and discovered to my delight that orchestra was cancelled. Not that I don't like orchestra, but the prospect of having to spend two-and-a-half hours in a cold, dark band room the afternoon before spring break when the day outside was full of warm wind and sunshine was not appealing in the least. It was like a wonderful little present to have orchestra cancelled. Then after my exam, Jenny S. and I went out to Jamba Juice for smoothies. Listening to crazy music in the car, drinking smoothies at an outdoor table while it sprinkled and shone on us by turns, and talking about Life... what fun. I spent a couple of hours doing research and then drove back to Stillwater. In the evening, us kids went with Logan to a talk at OSU by a physicist from Britain about making things disappear. That would have been enjoyable, I think, but I was so tired that the evening seemed rather surreal.
On Saturday, J.D., Sam, and Daniel all came over to play with Philip, Laura, and Stephen. I took refuge in my room, but it was amusing to have the house full of laughter and silliness. They played a very rowdy, nosiy version of capture-the-flag upstairs which made the light fixtures downstairs rattle ominously. Laura and I went shopping, and I took a blissful nap while the other kids were outside playing basketball. In this warm weather, it's a wonderful treat to have all the windows open. And my mother put a big glass pitcher full of daffodils on my desk, so my room is full of vivid yellow and sweet, polleny perfume. In the evening, Logan came over for supper, which was very pleasant. I was more awake this time. :o)
Sabbath was wonderful. It's so good to be able to participate fully in worship, to sing the Psalms. They are like food and drink. To make things even better, all four of "us hobbits" were in church on Sabbath. Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin all sat together in the front row during the service. Not in cloaks (as we used to do), but it was good to worship together. And the laughter over lunch...! Since Danielle and Missy were both back for spring break, Missy sat with Elizabeth, Sarah, Danielle, and me. Laura, Jessie, and Anna sat with us, too. We laughed our way through the whole meal, mostly at Danielle's antics--at one point, she and Laura got in a tickle fight, and Danielle ended up on the floor. We were laughing so hard that all the adults at the other tables paused in their conversations to stare at us. "So much for the mature college girls," Danielle giggled as she scrambled back into her seat.
Sabbath evening, Elizabeth, Anna, Laura, and I took our own car over to Enid for Bible study. We had a good conversation in the car (mostly silly), and Anna invented a new word: "swush". It means to blush and swoon, with a smooch thrown in for good measure, in case you were wondering. :o) After the Bible study at the Wagners' house, I spent the night with Missy.
I spent all of Monday with the Wagners, too. Missy and I slept in and spent the morning and afternoon making baskets. We listened to endless musicals, wrestled with our baskets, watched the dogs, reminisced about our trip to Scotland, and talked about college, the future, etc. In the afternoon, we went out to Chili's for dessert with Christi and Katie after those two got off work. We had chocolate cake and chocolate ice cream--very tasty. Katie and Christi were both rather hyper, in an exhausted way, from their day "babysitting" kids at a Christian elementary school. One of the kids had stolen Christi's jacket, and Katie and Missy were full of all sorts of "helpful" ideas for discovering the culprit. We went back to the Wagners' house for supper. After supper, while Missy and I finished our baskets and Katie whipped up a skirt for Missy, we watched The Illusionist, a fairy-tale-ish sort of movie about a magician in the 1800s. After the movie ended at about nine o'clock, I said good-bye (I hate good-byes!) and drove back to Stillwater.
This morning I spent sitting quietly in the living room with the cats. Philip was at MTC; my mother, Laura, and Stephen were at piano lessons. I listened to Loreena McKennitt, wrote in my journal, and thought. When the others returned for lunch, Stephen and I played some basketball on the driveway. In the afternoon, all six of us drove down to Oklahoma City for one of the National Homeschool Tournament basketball games. Philip's basketball team, the Trinity Warriors, was playing its second seeding game. My mother, Laura, Stephen, and I spent a rather uncomfortable hour squeezed on the bleachers watching a rather uncomfortable game in which Philip's team lost by about twenty points. My father was the scorekeeper, as usual. When we returned home, Laura fixed supper. In the evening, my mother and I went out for a long walk, just the two of us, around San Born Lake, which was pleasant. The evening was absolutely still, and the sunset was gorgeous--rich pink fading to red and mauve against a vivid blue sky. The woods at this time of year are full of birds singing, even late into the evening, and flowers and opening leaves.
Now everyone else in my family has gone to bed. I've stayed up late to write e-mails, but this poor blog demanded some attention, too. So good-night!
06 March 2007
parentheses?
Yes, I cleared up my links. *some of you* have not posted in a very long time, and my littlest brother's blog was giving me an error every time I tried to use the link.
Yesterday was my first good Monday probably since the beginning of the semester. (Following the cliche, Mondays are usually rather dull for me.) Instead of spending the evening trying to study in my room by myself and actually falling asleep, I went over to the Penthouse to study with Tara. We talked about poetry and shared pantoums and listened to Kate Rusby (yes, she likes "Little Lights" too!), which was fun. When Jenny and Alisha got back from their evenings' adventures, we all talked about our weekends and what we'd been doing. Alisha had been at a rehearsal for the Tulsa Signature Symphony. (If any of you are interested, there's a TSS concert this Thursday evening at 7:30. A Tchaikovsky symphony and a Lizst piano concerto are on the program, I understand.) Jenny complained about an engineering meeting she'd been to, and set all of us laughing with ridiculous stories of her fellow petroleum engineers' thickheadedness (they're all boys--she's probably the only girl, and the only blonde, in the whole department).
Then when I returned to Lottie at about eleven o'clock, I found Rachel and Crystal studying together, so I sat and chatted with them for a bit, which was pleasant.
And now I'm eating a good Gala apple from the cafeteria (no, that's actually not an oxymoron) and trying to see how many parenthetical statements I can squeeze into one poor little post. :o)
04 March 2007
it just keeps going....
Highlights from this week:
Monday: Eating supper with a crew of other RUFfians, hearing about Tara's lovely weekend spent with friends and family, and laughing at Andrew's ridiculous plans to drink eight cups of very strong coffee in two hours, which drew a great deal of vociferous protest from Mary and Eleanor. They're both biology students who detailed to him all the horrible consequences of this stunt, but he told them that it was "natural philosophy", learning by observing. (He tried the "experiment" on Wednesday, and decided to push his limits by drinking ten cups--which promptly made him ill, as you can imagine!)
Tuesday: Eating supper with Tara, Rachel, and Alisha, and studying with them afterwards. Such a beautiful spring evening on Tuesday, a pearly sunset.
Wednesday: Spending the whole evening with the girls at Tara-Alisha-and-Jenny's apartment, reading poetry and talking about poets. David and Spencer came over to make supper for the three proprietors of the apartment--David made tortillas and a beautiful apple pie. Jenny was incredibly hyper, which was rather funny. :o)
Thursday: Ah, the fun of white rabbit day. *grin* Also, going to Syneva and Amanda's apartment for pizza with the other girls from the Bible study. Alisha and Amanda told funny stories about their professors, which was amusing to listen to.
Friday: Going out for ice cream and a movie with Syneva and Amanda. I went to their apartment with Syneva after orchestra, and helped Syneva and Amanda finish off last night's leftover pizza for supper. Syneva let me plink around on her mandolin, an early birthday present from her parents. Then we drove down to south Tulsa, ate "Gold Ribbon" ice cream at a Baskin Robbins, and watched the newest James Bond movie at a dollar theatre.
Saturday: Finally having time to e-mail you all! :o) Also, having a brief chat with Alisha. In the evening, I went with some other RUFfians up to Bartlesville to visit an older couple from Christ Presbyterian Church. They'd invited us for supper and an evening of games. I rode in a car with Kevin and Crystal and a couple of guys I didn't know. Asher, Tara, Rachel, Daniel, and some others came in another car. We got to see the eclipse last night, and we had some wonderful hamburgers, thanks to Mr. and Mrs. D. We stayed in Bartlesville really late, playing Risk. Mr. and Mrs. D both like to play Risk a lot, so they managed to get two different games going. I just sat and watched, but that was enough fun. We didn't get back to Tulsa until about one-thirty this morning, which was rather too late for my taste.
Today: Getting to have a talk with Jenny S. on the way to church. In the evening, Rachel and I picked up our suppers to go from the cafeteria and drove to the park to eat them. We sat on a stone bench behind a juniper tree in the rose garden and ate our suppers and talked. It was very, very pleasant. The sun set gently over the hills, the evening star shone clear in the blue sky, and an owl hooted in the distant dusk.
Exodus 33: "My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest."