My family has three cats: Fred, Petie, and Annie. I'd like to share about each of them.
1. Let's start with Fred. I prefer calling Fred, who is my cat, Sir Frederick, but to everyone else he is Fred or Freddy. We got Fred at Bender's potato farm when I was 8. He was "free" and waiting for me in the bunny cages. I ran screaming to my mom that I wanted the free kitten. She thought I was mistaking a bunny for a cat, but I was right, she gave in, and nine years later he still lives in our house. Fred is my favorite reading companion. He curls up in my lap and sleeps. Honestly, when I go to school Fred is in one position and when I come home he is still in the exact same position. His favorite activity is sleeping! He's skittish and crazy and sheds like a dog, but I love him. (Secretly, I imagine that if Fred would talk, he'd have a British accent.) He's silky soft and grey and white, with sleepy green eyes.
2. Secondly, Annie. Annie is the exact opposite of Fred. While Fred is skinny, Annie could probably join the Biggest Loser reality TV show. Ironically, when we got Annie she fit in my mom's hand. We got Annie from a local farm two days after she was born. Her mommy had been run over by a tractor, and the farmer knew we wanted a kitten, so they called us. Besides being overweight, Annie also doesn't meow. Her mommy died before she could teach her, so Annie only grunts. I do love Annie, and she must love me two, because I'm one of the only two people she lets pick her up. She's brown and bushy and quite lovely once you get to know her.
3. Finally, Petie. While Fred and Annie are indoor cats, Petie is our outdoor cat. He started coming around about two years ago and since then has become a member of the family. He's basically a really large "Tom cat" with brown, silky fur and a large bushy white tail. Unfortunately, Petie still has claws and enjoys scratching people. But still, he's our cat. My dad even made him a "cat-house" so he could live warmly during the winter. (And then during Christmas my dad preceded to string lights around this "cat-house".) Petie is definitely the man of the house. He's always outside the French doors in our kitchen waiting for us in the morning or when we get home from school. I love him.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Bookstores
Bookstores are dangerous places. I've come to truly believe this. Whenever I walk into them, most especially used or secondhand bookstores, my heart rate increases while my stress level simultaneously decreases. It's like I've walked into paradise. Used bookstores are so much better than new bookstores. The books you can find are just wonderful. Whether they're old, out of print, or completely unexpected, you're sure to find it there.
My favorite part of used books must be the fact that other people have owned them. I love opening up books and finding marginalia, small notes, underlined passages, and highlighted words. That means that those quotes meant something to other people. It's so cool! (Needless to say, I think it's completely okay to write in books.)
I love getting lost in a bookstore. Especially those bookstores where there are large stacks of books that lean this way and that. (Unless the book you want is on the bottom of the stack. But what's life without a little risk?) I don't even mind the slightly worn, musty smell that pervaids most used book stores. That is the smell of knowledge.
It probably wouldn't surprise you if I revealed that, for my seventeenth birthday, I asked to go to a secondhand bookshop. One of the best birthdays ever.
My favorite part of used books must be the fact that other people have owned them. I love opening up books and finding marginalia, small notes, underlined passages, and highlighted words. That means that those quotes meant something to other people. It's so cool! (Needless to say, I think it's completely okay to write in books.)
I love getting lost in a bookstore. Especially those bookstores where there are large stacks of books that lean this way and that. (Unless the book you want is on the bottom of the stack. But what's life without a little risk?) I don't even mind the slightly worn, musty smell that pervaids most used book stores. That is the smell of knowledge.
It probably wouldn't surprise you if I revealed that, for my seventeenth birthday, I asked to go to a secondhand bookshop. One of the best birthdays ever.
Scrapbooking
Throughout the seventeen years of my life, I've collected alot of things. Notes, pictures, scraps of papers, bulletins, pamphlets, ticket stubs, papers, photos... you name it. Fortunately for me, I've kept all of those things to remember my life. Unfortunately for me, I've kept all those things which have become crowded in my desk drawers, stashed in corners, under my bed, in books, etc.
I was complaining about my collection of paper memories one day when my friend casually suggested that I take everything that is bursting out of my drawers and compile it into a fabulous collection of scrapbooks.
Well that friend is a genious, because that's exactly what I did.
Seven scrapbooks later and I'm still not done. I've cleaned up my room, but now scrapbook pictures my mom has collected, too. I'll scrapbook my favorite pair of hair chopsticks that my sister broke, I scrapbook movie tickets, receipts from when I buy favorite things, bottle caps, pictures of my friends and me, pictures of my mom and her friends, everything and anything.
That's what I love about how I scrapbook. I do buy pretty stickers and fancy paper, but my scrapbooking style is much less strict than those scrapbooks that are pictured in magazines. I scrapbook haphazardly, lovingly, crazily... I've even scrapped wrapping paper from my favorite Christmas presents. Basically my scrapbooks are more like collages of paper memories.
I love them!
I was complaining about my collection of paper memories one day when my friend casually suggested that I take everything that is bursting out of my drawers and compile it into a fabulous collection of scrapbooks.
Well that friend is a genious, because that's exactly what I did.
Seven scrapbooks later and I'm still not done. I've cleaned up my room, but now scrapbook pictures my mom has collected, too. I'll scrapbook my favorite pair of hair chopsticks that my sister broke, I scrapbook movie tickets, receipts from when I buy favorite things, bottle caps, pictures of my friends and me, pictures of my mom and her friends, everything and anything.
That's what I love about how I scrapbook. I do buy pretty stickers and fancy paper, but my scrapbooking style is much less strict than those scrapbooks that are pictured in magazines. I scrapbook haphazardly, lovingly, crazily... I've even scrapped wrapping paper from my favorite Christmas presents. Basically my scrapbooks are more like collages of paper memories.
I love them!
Persuasion
Hello, my name is A. Nonymous. I'm here today, at your 121st Riptide, Michigan Convention, to offer you something special. I'm offering you, oh noble men and women of the Chamber of Commerce of Riptide, Michigan, a chance to purchase one hundred pairs of eye glass frames, without lenses, from my company, Universal Prescriptions.
Why should you order my glass frames? For one, they don't have any lenses, so you'll never have to worry about needing new and different prescriptions as your eyes change. That's why we're called Universal Prescriptions. Anyone can wear glass frames! It's when you add those lenses that things get tricky. Think about it: No lenses means never having to buy that glass cleaning spray or breathing on your lenses and then wiping them on your shirt. Hassle-free!
And did you know that when you, fine people of the Chamber of Commerce of Riptide, Michigan, purchase and wear these lenseless glass frames, you will be reaching out to the many people of your town who wear glasses themselves? They'll look at you wearing your glasses and think, Wow, I'm proud to live in a town where the members of my Chamber of Commerce wear such snazzy eyeglasses.
Finally, look out all of these styles! You wear bracelets, earrings, and necklaces! Have you ever thought that you might just want to accessorize even further by wearing a pair of fashionable eye glass frames? Without lenses, you won't have to worry about headaches if you tried to wear prescription glasses for fashion. No worries!
Just change up your look and impress your fellow citizens who wear glasses by buying a pair of lense-free glass frames from Universal Prescriptions! I promise you, you won't regret your purchase.
It's been a pleasure, men and women of the Chamber of Commerce of Riptide, Michigan. I'm your lense-free man, A. Nonymous.
Why should you order my glass frames? For one, they don't have any lenses, so you'll never have to worry about needing new and different prescriptions as your eyes change. That's why we're called Universal Prescriptions. Anyone can wear glass frames! It's when you add those lenses that things get tricky. Think about it: No lenses means never having to buy that glass cleaning spray or breathing on your lenses and then wiping them on your shirt. Hassle-free!
And did you know that when you, fine people of the Chamber of Commerce of Riptide, Michigan, purchase and wear these lenseless glass frames, you will be reaching out to the many people of your town who wear glasses themselves? They'll look at you wearing your glasses and think, Wow, I'm proud to live in a town where the members of my Chamber of Commerce wear such snazzy eyeglasses.
Finally, look out all of these styles! You wear bracelets, earrings, and necklaces! Have you ever thought that you might just want to accessorize even further by wearing a pair of fashionable eye glass frames? Without lenses, you won't have to worry about headaches if you tried to wear prescription glasses for fashion. No worries!
Just change up your look and impress your fellow citizens who wear glasses by buying a pair of lense-free glass frames from Universal Prescriptions! I promise you, you won't regret your purchase.
It's been a pleasure, men and women of the Chamber of Commerce of Riptide, Michigan. I'm your lense-free man, A. Nonymous.
My Odd Shelf
My favorite collection of essays is Anne Fadiman's book Ex Libris: Confessions of a Common Reader. One of her essays, called "My Odd Shelf", is about her collection of strange books that don't seem to fit the rest of her library.
Though I don't have a particular shelf dedicated to odd, eccentric, or random books, I have purchased books that seem like they just don't fit in with the rest of my library. Here are some examples of what I would put on my odd shelf:
1. How to Grow Roses, by J. Horace McFarland and Robert Pyle
I love this little red, hardback book, published in 1937 by the American Rose Society, titled in loopy gold cursive. I bought it at the Dutchfest school book sale for 50 cents, found in a dusty cardboard box under numerous other used books. It's filled with lovely pictures and, even though I don't plan on growing roses, I enjoy flipping through the book, which now sits happily on my shelf.
2. A History of World Societies: Volume II, Since 1500, by McKay, Hill, and Buckler
This textbook, all 1,536 pages of it, covers the years from 1500 to 1980. Call me nerdy, but I love history and reading about how cultures have grown and changed. Reading this book is even more fun because the previous student who owned it highlighted important passages and scribbled tiny notes in it.
3. The Wordsworth Handbook of Kings & Queens: A Chronological Guide to the Great Dynasties of the World, by John E. Morby
This book covers every king and queen and illegitimate son and/or daughter and prince and princess from every nation up until 1989. IT IS AWESOME. I love looking at all of the interesting names. For example: Egbert, King of Wessex from 802-839. Hattushili II, King of the Hittites from 1380-1358. Hsiao Chuang Ti, Emperor of the Northern Wei Dynasty from 528-530. This book has even helped me on reports for school.
Though I don't have a particular shelf dedicated to odd, eccentric, or random books, I have purchased books that seem like they just don't fit in with the rest of my library. Here are some examples of what I would put on my odd shelf:
1. How to Grow Roses, by J. Horace McFarland and Robert Pyle
I love this little red, hardback book, published in 1937 by the American Rose Society, titled in loopy gold cursive. I bought it at the Dutchfest school book sale for 50 cents, found in a dusty cardboard box under numerous other used books. It's filled with lovely pictures and, even though I don't plan on growing roses, I enjoy flipping through the book, which now sits happily on my shelf.
2. A History of World Societies: Volume II, Since 1500, by McKay, Hill, and Buckler
This textbook, all 1,536 pages of it, covers the years from 1500 to 1980. Call me nerdy, but I love history and reading about how cultures have grown and changed. Reading this book is even more fun because the previous student who owned it highlighted important passages and scribbled tiny notes in it.
3. The Wordsworth Handbook of Kings & Queens: A Chronological Guide to the Great Dynasties of the World, by John E. Morby
This book covers every king and queen and illegitimate son and/or daughter and prince and princess from every nation up until 1989. IT IS AWESOME. I love looking at all of the interesting names. For example: Egbert, King of Wessex from 802-839. Hattushili II, King of the Hittites from 1380-1358. Hsiao Chuang Ti, Emperor of the Northern Wei Dynasty from 528-530. This book has even helped me on reports for school.
My Surgery
Last Wednesday I had surgery.
I arrived at the hospital at eight o' clock, anxious but not scared. I've had two surgeries before this one, so what happens in pre-op is familiar. It's just the pre-surgery butterflies that always get me.
After two hours of waiting and much paperwork later, I started the long check list of things to do before a surgery.
Pregnancy test, check. (Hospitals MUST have this, regardles of what you say.)
IV inserted, check.
Meeting with anesthesiologist, check.
Meeting with operation room nurses, check. Actually, my one nurse, Julie, remembered me from my surgery in seventh grade. Her kindness made everything better.
Pre-operation "cocktail" of pain medication taken, check.
Funny hair net placed on head, check.
(I've missed some things, I know it!)
After that I say goodbye to my mom and dad and they leave.
Something I really find heartening is that the anesthesiologist and anesthesilogist-nurse, and my O.R. nurse, and another nurse/doctor who is a back-up to my real doctor, all walk with me to the operating room while I'm being wheeled along on this traveling hospital bed. They are all chatting and trying to make me laugh to distract me from my nerves. I really love them all and I don't even know them.
So in the OR they lifted me from the wheely bed to the operating bed. Then they started anesthesia.
After that everything went black and I took a little nap while my doctor removed my knee cap and did some drilling and cartilage-adding.
Then I woke up an hour and a half later.
I don't react that well to anesthesia. I threw up six times. All of my lines and IV's and monitors were removed from me.
Then I was put in a wheel chair and wheeled to the family car, placed in the back seat, and taken home.
I arrived at the hospital at eight o' clock, anxious but not scared. I've had two surgeries before this one, so what happens in pre-op is familiar. It's just the pre-surgery butterflies that always get me.
After two hours of waiting and much paperwork later, I started the long check list of things to do before a surgery.
Pregnancy test, check. (Hospitals MUST have this, regardles of what you say.)
IV inserted, check.
Meeting with anesthesiologist, check.
Meeting with operation room nurses, check. Actually, my one nurse, Julie, remembered me from my surgery in seventh grade. Her kindness made everything better.
Pre-operation "cocktail" of pain medication taken, check.
Funny hair net placed on head, check.
(I've missed some things, I know it!)
After that I say goodbye to my mom and dad and they leave.
Something I really find heartening is that the anesthesiologist and anesthesilogist-nurse, and my O.R. nurse, and another nurse/doctor who is a back-up to my real doctor, all walk with me to the operating room while I'm being wheeled along on this traveling hospital bed. They are all chatting and trying to make me laugh to distract me from my nerves. I really love them all and I don't even know them.
So in the OR they lifted me from the wheely bed to the operating bed. Then they started anesthesia.
After that everything went black and I took a little nap while my doctor removed my knee cap and did some drilling and cartilage-adding.
Then I woke up an hour and a half later.
I don't react that well to anesthesia. I threw up six times. All of my lines and IV's and monitors were removed from me.
Then I was put in a wheel chair and wheeled to the family car, placed in the back seat, and taken home.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
My Poems
Senryu: A haiku with an attitude!
she sits on the edge
patiently, impatiently
of her chair, waiting
And my haiku!
shot of a bullet
a burst of wings, shrieking calls
birds take flight from trees
she sits on the edge
patiently, impatiently
of her chair, waiting
And my haiku!
shot of a bullet
a burst of wings, shrieking calls
birds take flight from trees
The Small Things that make me Smile
My parents know me too well. For my birthday both of my parents bought me glassware! You might think this odd for a seventeen year old, but I am ecstatic! See, I love tea and coffee. Tired in the morning? Pick out the perfect mug for some coffee, add cream, sugar, cinnamon, and enjoy! Want to relax after a day at school? Brew some tea leaves, poor tea into a delicate teacup, add milk, sugar, and mint leaves. Fabulous!
So for my birthday my dad bought me a 1940 Candlewick Glassware teacup, saucer, and dessert plate. If you don't know what Candlewick Glassware is I suggest you Google it. It's so delicate and beautiful and actually a classic American-made glassware. My momma bought me a coffee mug that was made in Guatemala! It's 100% Fair Trade, which means that the money paid for it will go to the actual person who made it. That person was not forced to make the mug, either. They have fair pay for fair work. This mug is a bold blue with yellow flowers in a whimsical, bohemian style. I love its message and its utility.
So there you go! My two favorite birthday gifts. They represent me and I can't wait to use them!
So for my birthday my dad bought me a 1940 Candlewick Glassware teacup, saucer, and dessert plate. If you don't know what Candlewick Glassware is I suggest you Google it. It's so delicate and beautiful and actually a classic American-made glassware. My momma bought me a coffee mug that was made in Guatemala! It's 100% Fair Trade, which means that the money paid for it will go to the actual person who made it. That person was not forced to make the mug, either. They have fair pay for fair work. This mug is a bold blue with yellow flowers in a whimsical, bohemian style. I love its message and its utility.
So there you go! My two favorite birthday gifts. They represent me and I can't wait to use them!
Time
So today, at 9:26 a.m., I turned seventeen. Seventeen! I sat in my desk at school today, making sure to glance at the clock at 9:26. I couldn't believe that I was turning 17. March 15th already? I can remember March 1st as if it were yesterday! And then I remembered a saying that my Aunt Jean used to say, which is, "The days are long, honey, but the years are short." It's so true! Every day seems like another hill to climb, but then you blink and seventeen years of your life have passed! But then I remember that each day is a gift. I think that many times I look at life as if, oh no! I only have roughly fifty years of my life left! Where has the time gone? But I have a heavenly father that has promised me that I am guaranteed an eternity of life with him. So I am seventeen today, in a few years I'll be twenty, then thirty-one, Lord willing, and on and on and on. But it's not so much about how long I live. I'll live forever praising God in a home he has provided for me in heaven. It's more like what I do while I'm living on earth that matters. In only three days, Jesus Christ took all of the sins of the world upon his shoulders and rose again from the dead after being condemned to death for sins he never committed. In that moment, the doors of mercy and grace and salvation opened. If Jesus can change the world in only three days, I can devote my next seventeen years to doing his will, not lamenting the time lost, but praising God for the time given.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
The Walking Man
The Walking Man.
Despite being a fabulous song by James Taylor, the "Walking Man" is a name I have given to a man that walks on our road every morning for brisk, physical exercise. He's around seventy years old and has been sporting the same lime green windbreaker, his favorite walking attire, since I was in kindergarten.
He's quite a memorable person in my home, particularly because my mom almost kills him every morning when we speed down our driveway in an attempt to not be late for school. Seriously, he just appears whenever our car shoots like a bullet into the road.
My mom always sees him just in time to divert an emergency room visit, though, and the man smiles and waves and, as James Taylor would sing, "The walking man walks on by."
Despite being a fabulous song by James Taylor, the "Walking Man" is a name I have given to a man that walks on our road every morning for brisk, physical exercise. He's around seventy years old and has been sporting the same lime green windbreaker, his favorite walking attire, since I was in kindergarten.
He's quite a memorable person in my home, particularly because my mom almost kills him every morning when we speed down our driveway in an attempt to not be late for school. Seriously, he just appears whenever our car shoots like a bullet into the road.
My mom always sees him just in time to divert an emergency room visit, though, and the man smiles and waves and, as James Taylor would sing, "The walking man walks on by."
My Clerihew
They banished Romeo,
From fair Verona he had to go.
For Juliet, he returned and cried,
Found her dead and committed suicide.
(Mrs. Petersheim, I'm sorry for the depressing subject. I really need to work on incorporating more happy themes into my creative writing topics. But I love Shakespeare!)
From fair Verona he had to go.
For Juliet, he returned and cried,
Found her dead and committed suicide.
(Mrs. Petersheim, I'm sorry for the depressing subject. I really need to work on incorporating more happy themes into my creative writing topics. But I love Shakespeare!)
Watching the Step Class
So I've got a knee that is partly dead. The end of my femur bone decided to die out on me. The name the doctors use is osteochondritis dissecans. To remedy the situation and decrease pain until I have a surgery, I am wearing a leg brace. I've missed gym class for the last four months.
But gym class still continues normally for the non-impaired high school girls. That's why I'm here, sitting in a YMCA gym, watching a gym class "field trip" that I can't participate in. (Side note: If some trips aren't to a field, why are they still called field trips?)
But loud, rhythmic music buffets my ears as I watch my classmates in their step class.
My classmates step, step, step... stretch, step, step, step... stretch. I still sit here on a hard, paint chipped bench with my back against a cold, white stone wall, wishing I could join in and burn some calories but grateful that I'm not sweating.
Sometimes Bekah looks over at me and laughs, and other times she's looking at the instructor in exhaustion. My other classmates have gone from high stepping to droopy, though some are standing strong. They're all sweaty messes, though, and by the end of the lesson they all look as if they've been through a war. Step, step, step, march, march, march... stretch, stretch, stretch.
But gym class still continues normally for the non-impaired high school girls. That's why I'm here, sitting in a YMCA gym, watching a gym class "field trip" that I can't participate in. (Side note: If some trips aren't to a field, why are they still called field trips?)
But loud, rhythmic music buffets my ears as I watch my classmates in their step class.
My classmates step, step, step... stretch, step, step, step... stretch. I still sit here on a hard, paint chipped bench with my back against a cold, white stone wall, wishing I could join in and burn some calories but grateful that I'm not sweating.
Sometimes Bekah looks over at me and laughs, and other times she's looking at the instructor in exhaustion. My other classmates have gone from high stepping to droopy, though some are standing strong. They're all sweaty messes, though, and by the end of the lesson they all look as if they've been through a war. Step, step, step, march, march, march... stretch, stretch, stretch.
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Favorite Book Villains
Villain 1: Lord Voldemort
With red eyes, slit nostrils, and a forked tongue, Lord Voldemort is probably one of the most menacing villains. Add killing many people, a vendetta against Harry Potter, starting the First Great War and the Second Great War, Voldemort really isn't nice. In fact, he's even more villainous because Harry Potter offers him a chance to be remorseful and repent, but Voldemort never does. Then he dies.
Villain 2: Heathcliff (no surname)
Tall, dark, handsome... deplorable, scheming, gloomy, probably mad. That sums up Heathcliff. Driven mad by his love for Catherine, and angered when Catherine marries Edgar Linton, Heathcliff spends the rest of his years tormenting Catherine's daughter, Cathy, after Catherine dies giving birth. Then he dies upon the moors.
Villain 3: Smaug
Smaug is a dragon whom Bilbo and his dwarf friends must defeat to save Dale, a mining town beneath the lonely mountain in Middle Earth. Smaug is one of my top villains because he is just plain greedy. Greedy and selfish beyond belief! Not one drop of ungreedy blood in his sparkling, gem encrusted scales. Just fire and smoke and greed and a tendency to burn men, dwarves, and hobbits alive.
What's your favorite villain?!
With red eyes, slit nostrils, and a forked tongue, Lord Voldemort is probably one of the most menacing villains. Add killing many people, a vendetta against Harry Potter, starting the First Great War and the Second Great War, Voldemort really isn't nice. In fact, he's even more villainous because Harry Potter offers him a chance to be remorseful and repent, but Voldemort never does. Then he dies.
Villain 2: Heathcliff (no surname)
Tall, dark, handsome... deplorable, scheming, gloomy, probably mad. That sums up Heathcliff. Driven mad by his love for Catherine, and angered when Catherine marries Edgar Linton, Heathcliff spends the rest of his years tormenting Catherine's daughter, Cathy, after Catherine dies giving birth. Then he dies upon the moors.
Villain 3: Smaug
Smaug is a dragon whom Bilbo and his dwarf friends must defeat to save Dale, a mining town beneath the lonely mountain in Middle Earth. Smaug is one of my top villains because he is just plain greedy. Greedy and selfish beyond belief! Not one drop of ungreedy blood in his sparkling, gem encrusted scales. Just fire and smoke and greed and a tendency to burn men, dwarves, and hobbits alive.
What's your favorite villain?!
My Bucket List (so far)
These are not in any particular order.
1. Live abroad for at least a year.
2. Publish a book.
3. Live in Greenwich for 1 year, while writing the book that will be published. (see # 2)
4. Take a pilgramige across the world to the graves of my favorite authors.
5. Trace back my family's history and ancestors as far as I can.
6. Publish a second book.
7. Be a missionary to fight human trafficking.
8. Learn French and Greek.
9. Publish a third book. (Which will be the last book in my three-book series I am working on- see #s 2 and 6.)
10.Always love God and my family.
1. Live abroad for at least a year.
2. Publish a book.
3. Live in Greenwich for 1 year, while writing the book that will be published. (see # 2)
4. Take a pilgramige across the world to the graves of my favorite authors.
5. Trace back my family's history and ancestors as far as I can.
6. Publish a second book.
7. Be a missionary to fight human trafficking.
8. Learn French and Greek.
9. Publish a third book. (Which will be the last book in my three-book series I am working on- see #s 2 and 6.)
10.Always love God and my family.
The Woman in Black
"During afternoon tea, there's a shift in the air.
A bone trembling shill that tells you she's there.
There are some that believe the whole town is cursed,
But the house in the marsh is by far the worst.
What she wants is unknown, but she always comes back.
The specter of darkness, the woman in black."
-The Woman in Black (anonymous)
So this poem corresponds with a Victorian-era, classic ghost story (written by Susan Hill) that was turned into a movie. I saw this ghost movie on February 3rd, with Rebekah, Emily, and my momma. It was a fantastic, NO gore or blood, jump-in-your-seat-and-scream-then-laugh ghost movie.
Quick plot summary: Arthur Kipps, young lawyer, goes to collect a will from an old manor called "Eel Marsh House". This manor sits at the end of a long road that stretches into the marshes, but each afternoon, the tide washes up, secluding the house from all. Arthur reaches house, tide comes in, and the games begin. It turns out that the ghost of a vengeful young woman, Jeanette Humphrey, haunts the house and town. Frights galore!
So on the way home from the movie, terrified out of my first-scary-movie-experience mind, my mom decides to leave the highway to drive home on a "back road that will get us home faster". Turns out that, for the next twenty minutes, our car winds and turns down a twisting, dark, scary, tree-lined, gloomy, forlorn back road.
Every time the headlights flashed across a grove of trees I was certain I saw the ghost of the woman in black. So did Bekah and Em.
The car ride didn't improve as we kept driving. Instead, we reached the end of a long turn to see a scary sight. An old white house, windows black, abandoned, with a sign beside it: DEAD END.
Jeepers creepers. My mom turned that car around so fast I held onto Bekah's arm. A little speeding later and we were back on the highway, comforted by the bright lights.
I still don't know if my mom planned that to play with our already hyped up, scared mind, but it worked. However, my sister was the one who didn't sleep that night. According to Bekah, Bekah "slept like a baby". I did get to sleep, but only after building a pillow fort around me.
DEAD END. Um, I mean... THE END.
A bone trembling shill that tells you she's there.
There are some that believe the whole town is cursed,
But the house in the marsh is by far the worst.
What she wants is unknown, but she always comes back.
The specter of darkness, the woman in black."
-The Woman in Black (anonymous)
So this poem corresponds with a Victorian-era, classic ghost story (written by Susan Hill) that was turned into a movie. I saw this ghost movie on February 3rd, with Rebekah, Emily, and my momma. It was a fantastic, NO gore or blood, jump-in-your-seat-and-scream-then-laugh ghost movie.
Quick plot summary: Arthur Kipps, young lawyer, goes to collect a will from an old manor called "Eel Marsh House". This manor sits at the end of a long road that stretches into the marshes, but each afternoon, the tide washes up, secluding the house from all. Arthur reaches house, tide comes in, and the games begin. It turns out that the ghost of a vengeful young woman, Jeanette Humphrey, haunts the house and town. Frights galore!
So on the way home from the movie, terrified out of my first-scary-movie-experience mind, my mom decides to leave the highway to drive home on a "back road that will get us home faster". Turns out that, for the next twenty minutes, our car winds and turns down a twisting, dark, scary, tree-lined, gloomy, forlorn back road.
Every time the headlights flashed across a grove of trees I was certain I saw the ghost of the woman in black. So did Bekah and Em.
The car ride didn't improve as we kept driving. Instead, we reached the end of a long turn to see a scary sight. An old white house, windows black, abandoned, with a sign beside it: DEAD END.
Jeepers creepers. My mom turned that car around so fast I held onto Bekah's arm. A little speeding later and we were back on the highway, comforted by the bright lights.
I still don't know if my mom planned that to play with our already hyped up, scared mind, but it worked. However, my sister was the one who didn't sleep that night. According to Bekah, Bekah "slept like a baby". I did get to sleep, but only after building a pillow fort around me.
DEAD END. Um, I mean... THE END.
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