Crossing off the Bucket List!

"The Big Brown Bear went LOLLOPPING over the mountain!"

-Chitty Chitty Bang Bang

(and, consequently, so did I while in Colorado!) I love how life will sometimes suddenly throw dozens of new experiences at you and ask you to juggle them accordingly. You know I've been busy busy busy with my travels and only just got back in time for my very own birthday. But now I foresee very few wanderings for a couple months and hopefully can get into the swing of quite a lot of things I've neglected over this Spring and start to the Summer. I  would appreciate prayer for wisdom regarding employment this fall. While I hope to be a published author someday, such a thing takes time, and I find I must seek some other thing that will earn me money while I pursue that dream. The current ideas a literary-themed online shop, creative-writing tutoring/mentoring, and the teaching of creative writing at some local co-op or another. These things would require me to move my botto and get out talking to people and quite frankly, that freaks me out. However, I do see the necessity and the productivity of it, so whether I pursue one of these avenues or another, I would love a spot in your prayer-time! But to round out the topic I began this post with, here are a few of the Pioneering Things I've done in recent weeks!

(bucket-list items in red!)

Cooked dinner without a single recipe in a dinky bachelor kitchen for The Three Bears.

oh look! one of the bears took a photo and instagram'd it!

I turned 21. :)

I tried Swing Dancing

I was dipped while dancing (without falling over)

I began to read my first Amish Romance (pressed upon me as a birthday gift by Abigail)

I started to save for my possible return-trip to Romania/Europe sometime next year!

I visited the real Whit's End

I set up my own iTunes account and made the choice to purchase a whole album of Kate Rusby songs simply because I like her voice and the music and now I'm nervous because I didn't consult Sarah, my Sister Who I Consult on these matters. O.o

I drank Sparkling Cider for an occasion not at all related to New Year's

I went to Colorado

I bought a grammar book

I drank an iced-coffee without the ice.

I dropped my copy of Winnie-The-Pooh on a poor man's feet next to me in the airplane.

So that's what's new with me...how about you? Having a bonny summertime?

Movie Night: My Favorite Wife (1940)

After spending the weekend with the Taylors, I have come home with a pocketful of memories such as:

• Trying not to be dumped off my raft in the pool
• Picking blueberries
• Looking at BJ's awesome blue truck
• Experiencing a growing fondness for country-music
• Singing at the piano with Abigail playing
• Staying conveniently out of the way while Abigail and Daniel enjoy tete-tetes
• Watching fireflies
• Eating plums off the tree
• Playing badminton
• Being gifted with a whole bag of books to read this summer! (Thanks Goldberry! :)
• Laughing late into the night

And lots more. But one amazing thing we were introduced to this trip was the 1940 romantic comedy: My Favorite Wife.

I give you the plot, as described by Wikipedia:

After seven years, lawyer Nick Arden (Cary Grant) has his wife Ellen (Irene Dunne), missing since her ship was lost, declared legally dead so he can marry Bianca (Gail Patrick). It turns out however that Ellen was merely shipwrecked on a deserted island, and has been rescued. When she returns home, she learns that Nick has just left on his honeymoon with his second wife.

Dunne and Grant--cue the happy sighs

I love old movies, but I seldom have a chance to see them. Mostly because we don't own any. But that's a nuance. I laughed my head off all during this movie. The plot is just too absurd, the acting adorable, the ending perfect. I had always had the impression that Cary Grant was a heart-throb, dramatic, tall-dark-handsome sort of actor. Maybe he is in most of his movies (is he?) but in My Favorite Wife, Grant comes across as lovably confused and dithered.

Nick Arden (Cary Grant) does not love his new wife, Bianca, but after 7 years he figured it was time to remarry. His new wife, Bianca, is cold, haughty, beautiful, and affected. You've gotta feel for him, and no one can suppress an "Awwwww!" when Nick catches sight of Ellen in the lobby of the hotel he's just checking into with Bianca. It's adorable. And awkward for poor Nick. He's in ecstasies over finding his wife again after 7 years, but he's also just married another woman. So why doesn't he just tell Bianca his first wife has come back? Well, it's not quite that simple...and that's where the comedy comes in. I promise you'll laugh really hard.

That awful leopard robe! :D

Why I love this movie:

The good, old-fashioned, 1940's values. While a modern filmmaker might have had good chances to turn this into something scandalous, the directors of this film kept it funny, clean, and heart-warming. They played the awkward scenes of Nick having to hold two rooms at the hotel (one for Bianca, one for Ellen) lightly and playfully without going into all the things a modern movie might have.

The children in the film, too, are so cute and precocious, and at the end...well...I can't tell you. But it's very very heart-warming indeed. :)

Any Cautions?

The hotel manager comes to reprimand Nick for staging an intrigue in his hotel, obviously inferring that Nick is doing double-duty with two different women.

After Nick grows suspicious of the man Ellen was shipwrecked with for 7 years, Ellen pretends she is going to marry him after all, and leave Nick for good. (This is null and void, however, because all the time it was just a ploy to get Nick to assure her he stills loves and wants to marry her.) The classic values bit is played sweetly in the scene between "Adam" and "Eve" (the shipwrecked man and Ellen) when he asks Ellen to marry him and she replies: "I did not wait seven years only to lose my resolve in three days." :) *points for Ellen*

Quotables:

Ellen: "Oh, by the way, how was my funeral?"Ma: "Lovely. Doctor Blake preached a wonderful sermon."
Ellen: "Oh, I wished I'd been there."

Nick Arden: "I came here with my wife..hum...my bride, really. Now my wife, not my bride...my wife...why should I bore you with details?"
Hotel Manager: "I won't be bored."
Nick Arden: "Listen, it's just as simple as A,B,C."
Hotel Manager: "Don't tell me you got someone in B too?"

Nick Arden: (discussing with Ellen how to tell the children she's their mother and isn't drowned after all.) "Would it help if I wrote them a letter?
Ellen: "Oh, that would be nice, yes. 'Enclosed, please find your mother.'"

Nick Arden: (Making excuses as to why he wants to stay at the cabin with Ellen and the children instead of "thinking it over.") "I had a flat tire...I was just driving along and...ssssssss!"

"Let's see...who will be next?" (!!!!)

They're a couple! <3

When a best friend combines with a best older brother, you know life's good. :)

Candid: Photo-booth love

Well...they're hitched! And they set up a ripping-good photo-booth to document the event!

(And no--of course we don't go overboard on the chance to get free family photos. And we are not hams in front of the camera! What do you take us for? ;)

Anna, Sarah, and Leah.

I love Levi's expression and the way he just threw his hand over the frame. It is [arguably] my favorite of the whole set. :)

♫"We're two of a kind--the happiest pair now!"♫

Mysterious? Oh yes.

Priceless. Matthew & I. (Must I explain? Okay. He's my cousin, peoples. :)

And last but not least? The Importance of Being Earnest. Honestly. I totally see Jack and Algie here, don't you? :) They've totally got the dilettante style going.

It was a beautiful and blessed wedding with a deal of drop-dead-amazing cake and a new-born love of photo-booths. Oh yes. A lovely weekend in all respects.

I'm off to Bermuda...uh...North Carolina.

Daniel, Sarah, and I are off to North Carolina to visit The Abigail Taylor. Though this visit has a bit of a purpose. You see, these Darlings are getting married:

Sam and Annabeth <3

And the Darling Chap is The Abigail Taylor's brother. There is going to be a bridal shower on Sunday afternoon. We are involved a bit in the wedding so that means that every weekend for three weekends in a row, this Troublesome Trio is going to be swamping Taylordom. Yeah! We love the Taylors [and I hope the feeling's mutual ;) ] so the idea that I get to see my onliest Abigail Taylor 3 weeks outta four gives me a lovely wriggle of excitement. :) 

Why do I love Marybelle so? 

Let me count the ways...She sits on cows, for one thing. :D Something only the boldest of desperadoes does. ;)

^ She does that to her hair...and then does this so I can see the Avonlea-esque effect of the afters. :D

She's a darling she's a...a...something, she's a lamb! ;) And I can't wait to see her. :)

All set to go to the Civil War ball last year. :)

Madness on the River...true story. :D

If one had been anywhere nearish the Pagan River this afternoon they might have had very good reason to doubt my sanity and the sanity of certain Other  Persons. :) But all good stories begin at the beginning and who am I, especially as a writer, to question that formula?

It started thus: I was awakened by a Pounce from an Abigail Taylor which soon recalled to my memory the fact that it was our first day home from the fabulous girls' retreat. After getting back into the groove of things, Daniel mentioned to us that he did not have to go work today and we ought to find something out of the ordinary to do.

It was a beautiful day--blue sky, fresh breeze, warm sunshine--so we fixed upon Canoeing. Do not ask me why we thought such an idea to be a sane one. ;) But Daniel called 'round and found that some of our friends who live not too far away owned a canoe that we could borrow. All we had to do was drive to their property and hike down to a creek and get it. All well and good in theory.

When we arrived at the property we rumbled down the drive and poured out of the car--Daniel, Sarah, Abigail, and I. 

But our directions were erroneous. The good chap who had cautioned us to go to the right fork was mistaken in which direction we'd be standing when we viewed the forks. We got lost and had to call for an SOS. The good chap hurried over and became our Sacajawea. We found the creek and the canoe and portaged back to the truck. The good chap hurried home for an online class.

We were hungry, Lewis and Clark and the rest of us, so we found our favorite, darling little ice-cream parlor and got some lunch. After lunching we drove down to the River to launch our boat. We strangled ourselves into our life-preservers as Madmen strangle themselves into strait-jackets. Then, satisfying ourselves that we were unsinkable, we continued our Lewis-and-Clark pantomime by getting into the canoe.

All four of us.

We sat a bit low in the water, but we were afloat!

All was fine sailing for a bit. The water was wide and blue. The herons laughed at us. The sun sparkled for us. The spirit of Adventure gripped us. And that's where we went wrong.

We saw a little estuary off the main course and thought what a lark it'd be to Discover something....ahem. Paddles poised we drifted into the branch and began the trek down the little river.

By and by I began to feel rather Marsh-wigglish as the little river shrunk to a creek. "Daniel, shouldn't we turn around?"

"What? And miss the chance for adventure?"

So said our Lewis-and-Clark leader.

He must not be related to that species of persons who don't relish the idea of getting stranded. I imagine there is too much Crusoe in him for that. But it was rather fun exploring with a chance of danger so I kept quiet...for a bit.We plowed forward, laughing over the spider-crabs and herons and raccoon's prints. The creek was getting more and more squinchy and I began to feel a tad like Puddleglum:

"Are you sure you don't want to turn around?" asked I, the figure-head at the prow of the canoe.

The canoe's other three occupants said something that meant "Never" and I kept quiet again. At each squinching of the creek and scraping of the bottom of the canoe I asked The Question. "Are you sure?" I wanted to be sure that as Sacajawea (and therefore the person who could see best, as I sat forward) that I had given all and sundry the chance to avoid danger.

We were now touching bottom but Lewis-and-Clark and the other girls were adamant. "It'll get wider presently," they said. I put my oar too and tried not to mind the hoards of adoring midges that assaulted us on every side of the shrinking stream.

We were no longer Lewis, Clark, Sacajawea and the rest. We were Mike Fink using our paddles like river-boat poles. We got stuck repeatedly but no one but Dear Old Puddleglum (that's me.) kept giving them Chances. Lewis-who-became-Fink hopped out of the canoe and began succumbing to the quicksand-like material that coated the bottom of the little trickle. (Yes, we'd down-sized from stream to a trickle at this point.)

They were loathe to give up. It must broaden soon. It must come out to the main River eventually. It must! But Daniel was sinking ever deeper. They relented. We would turn about. It required the lot of us to do a Chinese fire-drill and switch spots. Daniel squish-trotted through the horrid muck and pushed the canoe as we Mike-Fink'd it back up the trickle. It became a stream again. It became  a creek. It became a little river...and we were out!

Muddy, disheveled, triumphant, we pushed onward to the little marina where we knew we could get ice-cream. After mooring and wandering up to the store, we collapsed on a bench eating our ice-cream with extreme satisfaction.

"I wish I had a camera," Daniel said, admiring us from his seat at a wrought-iron table. "You all look so happy and grubby like a bunch of six-year-olds."

And we were. We were happy. We were crazy. We were perfectly, utterly content.

The paddle home-ward was uneventful and we sang as we rowed. We floated into a section of pollen and petals that reminded us of the entrance to Aslan's country. We clambered out of the canoe and tied it to our roof, then grinned at each other with that preciously silly grin of childish satisfaction in getting hot and sweaty and grubby and tired.

After all--who can grow too old for a bit of Adventure, even if it does involve smelling like a marshwiggle for an hour or two? :D

Ridiculously Happy

I am quite ridiculously happy. 

It all began when I got out of the shower this morning, got dressed, and realized that the figure hiding under my covers was not Mama at all, but my lovely friend, Abigail! :D She and her brother BJ had driven up two hours to come to church and they surprised us all. Most of us were still asleep. I didn't know what to do with finding one of my best friends peeping at me from under my covers, but I was delighted. Never one to be caught impolite, I gave her a hug, smiled and said, "Hi! How are you doing?" which sent her off into a gale of giggles, much as if I'd asked her to scoot over so we could all play cards, or asked her whether she'd like a drink. :D The art of hostessing, even dripping wet and in one's night-gown will not find me lacking. ;) Yes. It is not every week one gets an impromptu Pouncing sort of Visit from a soul-sister! :)

That began my happiness. 

Last summer on the Jamestown-Scotland Ferry...suitably wind-blown, eh?

I got to drive her "perfectly corking" compact car to Food Lion and buy plates for church with Abigail as a passenger, gripping the seat-arm and praying we wouldn't crash. ;) (by-the-by, it was my first time driving a small car. I've only ever driven our speedometer-less 15-passenger, or Dad's huge diesel truck! :P)

Then we had church (though I didn't sit next to Abigail :( ) and ate lunch together.

Then we took a quiet, violet-spangled walk and robbed someone's crab traps that they had set in the swamp.

My happiness had a climax at Dairy Queen with an Oreo Brownie Sundae and smashing good company.

Then we said good-bye.

That was sad, of course, but then again, I hadn't expected to see Abigail till I went down to drive to a retreat with her in mid-April, so one can't quarrel with an extra short visit! :) And to insure that I retained my happiness, Abigail had brought me a book to read: Something Fresh by P.G. Wodehouse--long reputed to be side-achingly hilarious and long on my To Read list.

That restored me to happiness. So much so that I laughed like a loon by myself on the back porch and burned the hot-dogs I was supposed to be cooking for dinner. The rest of the family didn't appreciate that over-much, but who can keep an eye on a grill when there is a fop like The Hon. Frederick Threepwood to be had! :)

"Oh dash it!" said the Hon. Freddie. And after a moment's pause, 'And I was feeling so dashed happy!"

I imagine him sounding crizackly like Edmund Sparkler of Little Dorrit. But I digress. I am exquisitely happy with no forseeable end to that happiness this evening. After all, it was just boosted by seeing a video of a young lad of 15 astonishing a cocky Michael Buble with his singing voice, and it will be continued by watching Tin-Tin which Daniel just rented, and which I will do a review of ASAP. :)

Thank you, Jesus, for this smashing day!

"The Ornament of every polished society"

In the past few days I have become addicted to contra-dancing, [!!!] thanks to my lovely Abigail Taylor, I have spent hours on the road, I have eaten at The Texas Roadhouse for the first time ever, I have had a very close-to-fainting-in-the-arms-of-a-German-while-dancing experience, I have eaten the world's best chocolate chunk cookies, I have made homemade pretzels, and last but certainly not least, I've got a new brother:

Sarah (17) and Our Darling. :)

Meet The Nameless One. A.k.a. The Heffalump, alias The New Puppy, alias To Be Named. He's part English Setter and part Black Lab, and part Adorable. He's destined to be over-loved and over-stimulated, and a massive part of our family. :)

It was a rather amazing weekend.

Of Ice-cream, Smithfield, and Friends :)

My big brother, Daniel, turned 21 last weekend! :) We had a huge surprise party for him and then went ice-skating. But it was also an ulterior motive...ahem... ;) Because we share many of the same friends, the Taylor family was invited, and since the Taylor family was invited, that meant that I would get to spend a chunk of time with Abigail, one of my dearest friends. I felt like it was my birthday. *smile*
Monday, I passenger-seat-drove her to downtown Historic Smithfield. No matter that most of the shops are closed on Mondays--we were determined to have a blast.

We began by discovering that small, historic towns don't wake up till at least 10 a.m. So we wandered down through a lumpy maze of "beautification projects" [another word for road-work] to Smithfield Station, and it was there I fixed the flash settings on my sister's camera and stopped looking like a ghost. 

Me attempting to look confident while trying to fix the said flash settings...

There are some stinkin' gorgeous homes in Smithfield, and if it were not for the fact that on the way down there all the pictures turned out phantom-like and eerie from the lighting, you would see more than these two:

An acquaintance of ours used to live in this doozy. :) I am vicariously rich, apparently.

The Mansion on Main B&B...

After spending all that time down at the Station we wended our way back to the main street. I had to teach Abigail what maracas were since she isn't the niece of a talented percussionist, but after I taught her, she was jammin'. ;) 

We wandered, therefore, for much of the morning, in and out of antique stores, up to doorsteps only to find the shops closed, into a pricey art gallery, into the Christmas Store, down back alleys...into old courthouses... ;) We stopped into the side-garden of the Olde World Tea Company and took some photos...

 

I have inherited the talent of not knowing what to do with my hands in pictures...

A Harriet Smith in the making. All I need is a Grecian dress and an ancient jar to hold.

She makes me laugh. :)

There was something incredibly dead and stiff laying on a bench, but I revived it by pulling it over to the Ice-cream Parlor. ;)

Soon it was very perky indeed, and ate a BLT with Great Relish. ;)

Afterward we got ice-cream and collapsed on a sunny bench, feeling the after-effects of the ice-skating and the morning's walk keenly. 

Sunny benches are also almost always sleepy benches. We had to squish to take a self-portrait. :P

I went for the double-scoop, this being the first time I wasn't broke and depending on Daniel to buy me ice-cream. It was chocolate and strawberry cheesecake. :) 

She stuck with Muddy Sneakers. :)

We talked about everything under the sun (literally, since we were sitting in a puddle of warm autumn sunlight) and we giggled over being asked where was a good place to buy pantyhose, and we ate our ice-cream, and made faces at chihuahuas who were raging mad, but stuck in a car. 

Abigail tried to woo Ben Franklin....

But I won him. ;) 

The sunshine was very bright, thus my scrunchy face, and Abigail's tolerating smile. 

A rather interesting picture of me kissing a toad and hoping he'd turn into something handsomer...but it didn't work out so well, because the owner of the shop came upstairs after us and stood there, and suddenly it didn't seem like such a great idea to be kissing her bejewelled amphibians in case she got it into her head that we ought to buy them. ;) 

Yes, be impressed at my attempt at artistic photography...and thank Abigail for crossing her ankles so sweetly. ;) It was my own effort at being like Sarah. But since I can't be a photographer and a writer and a butcher and a baker and a candlestick maker, that was my Swan-Song. ;)

Thanks for the loan of your camera, Sarah, and thanks Abigail for the great times we have together! :) 

        ~Rach