ranging in complexities

Apparently the more syllables in your name, the more complex you are.

I have 13 in my name: Maria Angelina Beatrice Geertsema. Yep, there's definitely thirteen. No wonder I have problems writing Personal Mission Statements for Ped-100.

How complex are you? [That sounds awfully like those quizzes on Facebook, sorry.]

mice can be nice

I think I'm going to call him Cedric. He's a daring little guy. And I think he's all for the Green Team because he stole a part of my grapefruit peel which will now decompose in the garden.

I got to eat a whole grapefruit today, with the luxury of not worrying about making a mess on the floor.

for those procrastinating or looking for a brief respite from schoolwork

In truth, I have nothing of consequence to say. The stack of books beside me does not grow smaller, so I am ignoring them for the moment.

A few recommendations:
- Hamilton Art Gallery. Free for students: can it get any better? Only when there is a piano as a piece of art. And paintings by Emily Carr and Lawren Harris (member of the Group of Seven). The piano was one of the coolest things I've seen in a long time.
- Puddles. Make hay while the sun shines. Except in this case, jump into them while you have the chance.
- Empty auditoriums. Best place to play piano. I think I like it. I can even hear myself sing in there. It's amazing.
- Grapefruits. Need more be said?

And if you are looking for more time to squander: I need a name. Masculine. Old-fashioned with character.

flutes

It is only a tool.

A tool forged from

the metals of the

earth. From silver.

From gold. Fashioned

by history. Crafted

by the masters. It is a tool

that shapes mood and

culture. It enraptures.

Sometimes distracts.

Exhilarates and soothes.

Sings and weeps. Now

take up the tool

and sculpt music

from the air.

- from Muramatsu Flutes

sacrifices

Either I need to go to bed on time or get a new alarm clock.

introductions 101

Lesson one: meet many people while attempting to remember their names.

Yup. What else can I say?

hidden treasure

Background information: Last semester I took money out of the bank with which to buy second-hand textbooks. Didn't find any, but that's besides the point. Anyway, I placed it somewhere, couldn't find it a month later and assumed it had gotten thrown out with the trash.

Last night I removed the box of Puffs tissues from my dresser drawer. Lo and behold, The envelope of money was hidden beneath it. This cold has been a blessing in disguise.

That was yesterday. Today, I'd like to be back to my 'normal' self, minus the cold and shivers.

for brittany

I really dislike tissues. As in the Kleenex kind of tissue. Kleenex even has a website now. For little pieces of paper with which you blow your nose. Personally, I prefer Puffs. They're much softer and generally smell nicer. Especially the kind with Aloe in it. Those are my absolute favourite if I really and truly have to use a tissue. Handkerchiefs are infinitely worse, though. It's disgusting. Just think of all those germs that get put into your pocket, and then on to your hand, and then get spread around everywhere. At least with tissues they're disposable.

I also dislike having free time. There is much I could and should be doing, but nothing that is definitely for tomorrow. *Sigh.* It's worse when you have to wait around for something to happen. Par example, tomorrow, I am watching the BBC version of Pride and Prejudice, the good one with Colin Firth. Not that Firth makes the movie (don't debate this with my friend), it's just closer and more accurate to the book. I'm not expected there until five. Class ends at 1, leaving me with four hours with which to do nothing. I am open to reasonable, note: reasonable, suggestions. Dates are out of the question because I now have a reputation to maintain. It's quite a good one at that, if I do say so myself. Leaves me free to be unfettered.

It's fun to plan for the future. Right now, I'm working on organizing two weddings, should they ever come about. Yes, my own is one of them. Some of the essential details are missing, but attire and musician(s) are pretty much taken care of. What more does one need?

Until then, I shall dream of my little house perched atop a cliff, from which I can watch the waves crash against the rocks beneath me. With a big library. And money with which to travel to the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World and to go back-packing through Great Britain. I had better take some self-defence and kickboxing classes before I do that. Drat being frail and weak. Maybe I should allow my reputation precede me, as a force to be reckoned with. He he. One can always hope.

unless you become like children...

[Matthew 18:1-6]

Norah has a beautiful faith. Already at the age of five she shows love for the Almighty in all she does. After dinner, we sing Psalms and Hymns that the children have learned, usually a new one each week. With the exception of Dad, Norah drowns us all out. Why? "Because I just have to sing loud."

When her favourite bunny kicked the bucket, so to speak, she accepted it as part of God's doing.

My aunt who was visiting from B.C. left yesterday morning, leaving both Norah and Mom a little at a loss. Mom explained that she missed her sister, just like Norah (hopefully) misses me during the week. "Yes," Norah replied, "but aunties and sisters all were made by the same two hands" - so she was allowed to miss our aunt just as much.


I want to be more like my little sister.

susjes

we match :)