Isn't that picture loverly?
The performance today went ok; Syd is back home; I added my know-how to a literature discussion some of the mothers were having during intermission, and it felt so good and comfy to be on familar ground; I can't believe we've a'r'dy gone thro' a week of August!; I'm excited to git started writing for Godly Girls magazine; Captain Blood is a good movie, watch it; I don't know what book to write a book report on!!!!!! The Door Within, Little Women, A Bear Called Paddington or something else??? Whatcha think, Momsie?
The guy who plays Laurie in the play is so foony (that's how I say funny...). He's got a mop of curly hair (I don't like hairless things) and a face that looks like a kitten, and he's always jumping around and smiling. I don't like unhappy people! So be happy!!! 
The Girls and I have ways of defining men: either handsome, kitten-cute or ugly! But never merely cute. And I don't agree with calling men 'dates', as if we girls go around having outings with all sorts of men...which might unfortunately be true for some girls but should not be ...ahem!... encouraged in Christian girls dedicated to being pure and content. It's ok for us to admire good looks and have favorite styles of clothing, hair and etc. for guys, but let us, ladies, be happy while we serve God as daughters and siblings before we plunge into becoming wives and mothers. There's still a lot to learn. Moms reading this, I exhort you to praise your daughters' purity and guide them along this narrow path we're all tryin' ta fit on; husbands, appreciate your wives and go out on a date or somethin'! And guys reading this, be happy while striving to earn that shining armor, because we all deserve something better than what this world offers us...and God is giving it to us freely!
Here is a poem I wrote and edited, re-edited and so on and so forth: (this has nothing to be with my soap-box sermon awhalago, it's jest a poem by a very minor poet!)
The Tree on the Hill
by ME
I sit upon the hill at night,
And see the village laced with light.
I see the merchants come and go,
I watch as winter brings the snow.
Mothers tuck their children tight,
Knowing that their dreams are bright.
I watch as grain, the farmer sows,
As dusty boys try chasing crows.
I felt the first sweet breath of spring,
I smiled as my arms held a swing.
Breezes are born and come to play,
On my shoulders birds greet day.
On my heart do sweethearts lean,
Many marriages have I seen.
My dress becomes as mossy ponds,
Kittens play beneath my fronds.
Then the rains begin to fall,
And the peepers start to call.
The flowers are growing,
The breezes are blowing.
The ladies are sewing,
The birds are crowing.
The days pass by,
The summer's nigh.
Ice cream, melon, cold fresh sweets,
Add to annual summer treats.
The children play by cool, deep lakes,
Making castles, muddy cakes.
Mosquitos buzz and fly and bite,
Instead of dark, the eve is light.
The village wrapped in peaceful calm,
I sing my yearly summer song.
The days grow hot,
The fish are caught.
The warmth is light,
The days are bright.
The mornings' early,
The mist is pearly.
Yet children know,
That summer will go.
Just as dusk should close the day,
The birds begin to fly away.
My hair becomes as fiery fingers,
Even so, the sun still lingers.
The apples ripen,
Our tree leaves brighten.
Autumn comes slipping in,
It settles down where summer's been.
The sky is blue,
All spirits new.
The cider is sweet,
And tall is the wheat.
The air is clearer,
The winter is nearer.
The villagers garden and harvest about,
Until the candle-light flickers out.
Then the oldness creeps in slow,
It whispers to us, "Snow!...Snow!"
Animals gather fluff and weeds,
Their homes are stashed with harvest seeds.
The north winds play about their doors,
It skitters over frozen shores.
In quietness the seasons close,
Roots dug deep, I drift and doze.
The fires glow,
The winds blow.
The windows are bright,
With hearth-fire light.
The fog is hazy,
The mornings lazy.
The winter is long,
It drags on and on...
Suddenly...
The sun rises high,
The snow says goodbye.
With sun-speckles falling,
The birds are now calling.
I sit on the hill all through the year,
Many sweet things do I hear.
Many moons have I seen,
With many winds my branches lean.
All of the seasons have I seen,
For I am a tree on the hill.
Thanks to MOM for helping me git it jeeeeeeeest right!
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