Because of the immense amount of preparation going into Peter's wedding, I am definitely experiencing after-Christmas focus...
Christmas just totally crept up on me... and now it's Christmas Eve... goodness.
Tomorrow I get to stop.
And celebrate :).
Merry Christmas!!!!!!!!!!!! (but don't read that 'til tomorrow.)
Carefully
Heed,
Rightly
Interpret,
Scrupulously
Teach,
Meditate
And
Share what Christ came to earth to do.
His incarnation is what the Christmas season is truly about!!
How quickly we forget.
A little poem written for, and dedicated to, me... last night.
(Mind you, the kind that has thorns,)
She has an awful, terrible power:
Her proud beauty she need not adorn.
She bends man's will unto her own,
Until the earth is wont to groan
Beneath her cruel flesh and bone
In guise of gracious form."
~Ruby Hopkins
My sister.
Photo chronicles from our latest trip to the Cleveland Museum of Art with the Clarkes and the Roberts :).
Girlies :)
Notice how the two littlest ones are hovering above the floor.
Tha Escalator. Apparently this was a famous invention.
Ruby :).
Yes, we normally keep our children in glass boxes with broadswords.
As I lay in bed last night, several funny 'misreads' or 'mispronunciations' blasted through my memory with hilarious force. I can't help but share them :).
Ruby and I used to read aloud to each other, and it was during such times that our little slips of word comprehension sent us into fits of laughter.
From The Dragon and the Raven by G.A. Henty:
Word "wholly" - read as: "...the regiment was wooly undisciplined."
Word "peasants" - read as: "...they were attacked by the pheasants."
"A whole ship, consisting of 140 fleets..."
From Loamhedge by Brian Jaques:
Word "bowls" - read as: "...they licked their bowels clean."
Ruby has a Pittsburgian speech impediment, making it difficult to to say names/words such as 'Taylor', 'Stuart', and 'bagel' correctly. Instead, they are 'Tallor', 'Stort', and 'baggle'.
I can't imagine who hasn't had trouble trouble with the word 'rendezvous'... saying it phonetically would be plain natural :).
HOWEVER. 'ReasonABLEness' won't fly...
For the unlabeled ones, I leave it up to you to decide who said what *wink*.
Because some people just had the sense to change or detail nursery rhymes :D.
I.E. (Anonymous... to me anyhow.):
Mary had a little lamb
Her father killed it dead,
And now it goes to school with her
Between two hunks of bread.
And my personal favorite:
The Embarrassing Episode of Little Miss Muffet
Little Miss Muffet discovered a tuffet,
(Which never occurred to the rest of us)
And, as ’twas a June day, and just about noonday,
She wanted to eat -- like the best of us:
Her diet was whey, and I hasten to say
It is wholesome and people grow fat on it.
The spot being lonely, the lady not only
Discovered the tuffet, but sat on it.
A rivulet gabbled beside her and babbled,
As rivulets always are thought to do,
And dragon flies sported around and cavorted,
As poets say dragon flies ought to do;
When, glancing aside for a moment, she spied
A horrible sight that brought fear to her,
A hideous spider was sitting beside her,
And most unavoidably near to her!
Albeit unsightly, this creature politely
Said, "Madam, I earnestly vow to you,
I’m penitent that I did not bring my hat. I
Should otherwise certainly bow to you."
Though anxious to please, he was so ill at ease
That he lost all sense of propriety,
And grew so inept that he clumsily stept
In her plate -- which is barred in Society.
This curious error completed her terror;
She shuddered, and growing much paler, not
Only left tuffet, but dealt him a buffet
Which doubled him up in a sailor knot.
It should be explained that at this he was pained;
He cried, "I have vexed you, no doubt of it!
Your fist’s like a truncheon." "You’re still in my luncheon,"
Was all that she answered. "Get out of it!"
And the moral is this: Be it madam or miss
To whom you have something to say,
You are only absurd when you get in the curd
But you’re rude when you get in the whey!
Not to mention the best example of absolute genius by J.R.R. Tolkien himself (the original rhyme to be found in verse 12):
There is an inn, a merry old inn
beneath an old grey hill,
And there they brew a beer so brown
That the Man in the Moon himself came down
one night to drink his fill.
The ostler has a tipsy cat
that plays a five-stringed fiddle;
And up and down he runs his bow,
Now squeaking high, now purring low,
now sawing in the middle.
The landlord keeps a little dog
that is mighty fond of jokes;
When there's good cheer among the guests,
He cocks an ear at all the jests
and laughs until he chokes.
They also keep a hornéd cow
as proud as any queen;
But music turns her head like ale,
And makes her wave her tufted tail
and dance upon the green.
And O! the rows of silver dishes
and the store of silver spoons!
For Sunday there's a special pair,
And these they polish up with care
on Saturday afternoons.
The Man in the Moon was drinking deep,
and the cat began to wail;
A dish and a spoon on the table danced,
The cow in the garden madly pranced,
and the little dog chased his tail.
The Man in the Moon took another mug,
and rolled beneath his chair;
And there he dozed and dreamed of ale,
Till in the sky the stars were pale,
and dawn was in the air.
Then the ostler said to his tipsy cat:
"The white horses of the Moon,
They neigh and champ their silver bits;
But their master's been and drowned his wits,
and the Sun'll be rising soon!"
So the cat on his fiddle played hey-diddle-diddle,
a jig that would wake the dead:
He squeaked and sawed and quickened the tune,
While the landlord shook the Man in the Moon:
"It's after three!" he said.
They rolled the Man slowly up the hill
and bundled him into the Moon,
While his horses galloped up in rear,
And the cow came capering like a deer,
and a dish ran up with the spoon.
Now quicker the fiddle went deedle-dum-diddle;
the dog began to roar,
The cow and the horses stood on their heads;
The guests all bounded from their beds
and danced upon the floor.
With a ping and a pang the fiddle-strings broke!
the cow jumped over the Moon,
And the little dog laughed to see such fun,
And the Saturday dish went off at a run
with the silver Sunday spoon.
The round Moon rolled behind the hill,
as the Sun raised up her head.
She hardly believed her fiery eyes;
For though it was day, to her surprise
they all went back to bed.
beneath an old grey hill,
And there they brew a beer so brown
That the Man in the Moon himself came down
one night to drink his fill.
The ostler has a tipsy cat
that plays a five-stringed fiddle;
And up and down he runs his bow,
Now squeaking high, now purring low,
now sawing in the middle.
The landlord keeps a little dog
that is mighty fond of jokes;
When there's good cheer among the guests,
He cocks an ear at all the jests
and laughs until he chokes.
They also keep a hornéd cow
as proud as any queen;
But music turns her head like ale,
And makes her wave her tufted tail
and dance upon the green.
And O! the rows of silver dishes
and the store of silver spoons!
For Sunday there's a special pair,
And these they polish up with care
on Saturday afternoons.
The Man in the Moon was drinking deep,
and the cat began to wail;
A dish and a spoon on the table danced,
The cow in the garden madly pranced,
and the little dog chased his tail.
The Man in the Moon took another mug,
and rolled beneath his chair;
And there he dozed and dreamed of ale,
Till in the sky the stars were pale,
and dawn was in the air.
Then the ostler said to his tipsy cat:
"The white horses of the Moon,
They neigh and champ their silver bits;
But their master's been and drowned his wits,
and the Sun'll be rising soon!"
So the cat on his fiddle played hey-diddle-diddle,
a jig that would wake the dead:
He squeaked and sawed and quickened the tune,
While the landlord shook the Man in the Moon:
"It's after three!" he said.
They rolled the Man slowly up the hill
and bundled him into the Moon,
While his horses galloped up in rear,
And the cow came capering like a deer,
and a dish ran up with the spoon.
Now quicker the fiddle went deedle-dum-diddle;
the dog began to roar,
The cow and the horses stood on their heads;
The guests all bounded from their beds
and danced upon the floor.
With a ping and a pang the fiddle-strings broke!
the cow jumped over the Moon,
And the little dog laughed to see such fun,
And the Saturday dish went off at a run
with the silver Sunday spoon.
The round Moon rolled behind the hill,
as the Sun raised up her head.
She hardly believed her fiery eyes;
For though it was day, to her surprise
they all went back to bed.
It has always been part of our classical education to memorize lots. 'Twas simply a fancy to share this... I've always loved these... and hope they didn't bore y'all!!
New look, same blog!!! Please bear with me as I get all of the little odds and ends ironed out, and Lord willing I will post with a little more loyal fervency in the future :).
Thanks!!
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