Pendragon Clips Coming

In between sewing, cooking, cleaning, reading, and plotting out my next NaNoWriMo adventure, I've lately spent a bit too much time haunting certain film websites, particularly those for The Widow's Might and Pendragon; Sword of His Father.

Yesterday I was thrilled to learn that, over the next few weeks, Burns Family Studio will be releasing a few scenes from the film, culminating in a new trailer! They even have a "Countdown to Release" feature (currently at 23 days).

If you feel incline to support this Christian film with a $45 donation, you will receive a special copy of the film in the mail as soon as it's finished!

Until the Pendragon film arrives in our mailbox, I'll look forward to a special movie night, enjoying the benefits of this effort for excellence in Christian storytelling and filmmaking!

Happy Columbus Day! (and Happy Thanksgiving, in Canada)

"In fourteen hundred and ninty-two
Columbus sailed the ocean blue"

And in two thousand and eight I have been grinding wheat, making bread, cleaning kitchen, making toast (butter, cinnamon, and sugar, on half a flat bread...Unique, yes. Tasty, yes!) and listening to Doug Phillips speak on How to Think Like a Christian. Whit has been in the kitchen with me, working on math, since he didn't have to go to school (Hurrah!). Very communal. I have my hermitish tendencies, but I actually do like people. Brothers especially. :-)

Vision Forum's Behemoth has arrived! They have a few free downloads every day, which is where I aquired Doug Phillip's talk. I've also been eyeing several independent films...

Finally, a bit of writerly excitement. My current book, Melod's Song, has been moving along! Last week I finally wrote several scary scenes (frightening to me, because they needed to do so much and were so crucial to the story), and now am mainly filling in the gaps. Then it will be down to re-working the middle bits and editing and polishing, then, out into the wide wide world, to see if it can find a home with a publisher!

Shouldn't be any harder than sailing over an ocean to unknown lands, should it?


That is all I have to say,
So have a Thankful Columbus day!

(EDIT: Thanks to my Daddy, who noticed I at first had Columbus discovering the New World way back in the 1300s! Oops. That is now corrected. At least I got the nintey-two bit right...)

When Christians Act Like Monsters

"God created us for his glory, He created us twice for His glory, once when we were born physically and once when we were born spiritually, and when we start doing things that are the opposite of glorifying God it's the opposite of what we were created for, what we are in essence. We are something alive trying to be dead again, and that sounds pretty monstrous to me."


~Catie G.~

A Burden That Overcomes Fear

To hold back is to accept defeat. To push on eventually brings sweet victory. So writing requires a burden and a commitment to speak in love the fullness of that experienced truth uniquely given to us, a burden that overcomes all fear for self."

~Blair Adams, from Right Words~

Bye bye, birdies

(Written this summer)

I have a sad tale to tell. Don't worry, it is not quite a tragedy, and no one dies. Yet, it involved saying farewell to some dear feathered friends and our hopes of our own fresh eggs.

The birds had seemed happy in their newly moved coop and run. They were nearly six months old, the golden age when chickens usually start producing their little treasures for their fond owners to eat. We were all fond of them, and still thrilled with our counter-cultural experiment that seemed so obviously practical. "Why doesn't everyone have chickens in their backyard?" I kept asking. Though we were still a bit anxious that neighbors not become bothered by our fowl, their quiet clucking was never anything so loud as some dogs' racket.

Our story started one fine morning around 6:15. It was fine, that is, until we were awakened to a horribly croaking squawk from the back yard. First I thought maybe a neighborhood cat had found it's way into the coop and was killing my birds. But on investigation, there seemed nothing wrong with them at all. They took turns making the dreadful noise. I tried talking with them, pleading with them, distracting them with fresh food and water. But in vain.

Then I found an egg.

It was cracked, as the first ones are generally weak-shelled. And I remembered that of course, this is what they do when they begin their egg laying. They have no clue what's going on! Later when they figure out they aren't dying, they just make very loud pleased sounds. A couple things

I should mention about this neighborhood. It is not wealthy or extravagant, but tidy and neat and well-trimmed, like a middle-aged business woman who likes people to be predictable and respectable. It is not the country, not does it seem to show any signs of encouraging farm-like, country-ish endeavors. The houses are rather close together, too. People there, especially in summer, are most likely not eagerly getting up at 6 a.m. to listen with pleasure to what sounds like a chicken's dying shrieks.

I can't say I would blame them. I could have enjoyed just a bit more sleep myself.

Well, we could not just let the dear old things croak away until we had an angry mob at the back gate. I could see that happening any minute. We hastily constructed cages out of crates and boxes and put the noisy things in the garage, which thankfully muffled some of the noise. Then it was a somber time in the house, a time of facing the facts.

We decided that, as good an idea as it had been, we had to say farewell to the feathered ladies. For the sake of peace and tranquility.

Then there was the question of what to do with them. No, I was not ready for chicken soup...not quite. Their noise was maddening, but they were my friends. And am not yet a tough enough country girl to learn to wring or slit necks. Thankfully, after a few phone calls, we found them a good home out in the country, with a sweet former homeschooling family, amongst other birds of their own feather.

Besides coming home to an empty, dejected coop, the saddest moment was after Mrs. L and I put the chickens in their new home. She reached into a few nesting boxes and gave me seven lovely eggs to take home. White, brown, and a beautiful blue-green. The colors of eggs I would have bean gathering every day, if it were not for

The Noisiness of Croaking Hens and the Nearness of Cityfolk Houses.

(Could be a book, hu? Or maybe a 50s-style sci-fi film, with creepy music and corny special effects?)

Things gained from the Chicken Experience:

1 - Before starting any such crazy project as backyard chicken raising, one should do extensive research! It would have saved lots of time, supplies, chicken feed, and emotions to have remembered or known how loud they would be. Sounding louder, of course, because they were so near neighboring houses. With some things, I'm sure it works just fine to jump in and learn as you go. But that didn't work for us and chickens.

2 - Even though the Chicken enterprise didn't work the way we hoped, I learned a lot, and hopefully can someday have a chance to try again. Perhaps I might live in the country again. In the meanwhile, I am firmly resolved to keep my hand striving after ways to live frugally, creatively, and to be a homemaker and farm-girl in all the ways I can that don't endanger any chance of friendships with the folks next door or across the alley.

3 - Because of getting in touch with the L. family again, I've since been buying their eggs at an extremely reasonable rate. which is a blessing. At least I do get to enjoy "my" chickens' eggs, even if I can't see their perky selves each day. We've even enjoyed a few guinea eggs now and then, too! I've been encouraged by this opportunity to buy locally, to have such a connection to what I'm feeding my family, not to mention a deepening relationship with a godly Christian farm lady who won't hesitate to step into the chicken coop in heels and a skirt. :)

After a Summer's Silence

My dear friends, and whoever else might chance upon my blog:

The summer has come and gone, without seeing one new thing posted here. So, to summarize high points of our crazy wonderful lives,

• finished painting, yard-saleing, and moving!
  
• learned to park the suburban in the back, between the car and fence, without fear of wrecking (Hurrah!)
• led a journaling workshop for girls
  
• visited family in Colorado, old friends in New Mexico, and were visited by family in Texas.
• mother taught two weeks of art camp for kids at a museum, and I got to help!
  
• drove across parts of east Texas several times. Every other hill or so, my mother would say it was her favorite part of Texas. She said the same thing while we drove across New Mexico and Colorado, too... ;)
  
• watched the 7-and-1/2-hour-long Bleak House mini-series (*cough* twice *cough*) and plunged into the even-better book. Astonished and falling quite in love with Dickens' writing. Such characters he paints, and with such paint!
• wrote a good bit of my novel
  
• drank lots of coffee
  
• read lots of books
  
• watched too many movies while drinking tea with fellow conspirators, my mom and youngest brother
  
• made lunches
• cleaned (now and then)
  
• organized
  
• listened to audio dramas and books on tape/CD/MP3
• ate oranges
  
• discovered the most scrumptious chocolate coffee cake recipe
  
• sewed cloaks
  
• journaled
  
• played in rain
  
• laughed
  
• cried
• pondered
  
• puzzled
  
• and even went roller skating, with much fun and bruises

It was busy, varied, and I hope God-honoring. I'll try to come around more often. The fall writing bug has bitten me bad lately. And it's been rainy and cool, perfect writing weather! So beware! The main danger to my writing is finding too much good stuff to read. ;)

Painting

More painting today. We are still not moved into the new house, because there are so many walls and ceilings with cigarette smoke stains, and hideously dark-brown cabinets, and I begin to wonder if there's any point in scrubbing paint off myself when I'm only going to get another coat. ;) We're getting it done, but probably won't be seriously moving stuff over there until school's out.

Things to be thankful for:

• millions (so it seems to me, their painter) of kitchen cabinets
• the fresh, clean look of what we've done so far
• a mother of incredible indefatigable energy, patience, and hope
• being able to listen to lots of exciting audio books from the library
• manual labor that, in moments of quiet, provides great opportunity for story-plotting!
• a tangible metaphor*

*I realized last night, in the midst of a grumpy attitude and desperate slopping-on of paint, that a Christian's sanctification is a little like a house being painted. It seems to take forever, needing several more coats at least, and still there are bad brush strokes and sloppy drips, but we mustn't stop seeking perfection because we can't get there all at once. Persevere! Look to Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith! And oh the glory when the dingy, dark, and dirty is covered slowly in glorious white! I couldn't keep being quite so grumpy after all those thoughts came rushing in. :-)

Excellence

It can be challenging to set our sights on excellence, particularly when we're hearing that we're already there. One of life's great lessons, which we all must learn, could be expressed in the phrase, "That was nothing. Watch this." Challenge yourself and others to call the normal things normal and save that word excellent for things that really are.

~From a letter quoted in Do Hard Things~

A Misty-Morninged Tuesday

This morning was misty, softened in wet fog that moistened branches, gathering, to fall in a whispering rumor of rain. The air was not cold, just cool enough to be crisp and refreshing.

Now the sun's come out and the mist is vanished. Soon I'll be off on my weekly grocery shopping, but first I must say something about yet another book.

This abundance of good books I've lately been in should make me wary- what if I'm soon to run out? ;) I suppose then I'd just have to work harder at writing my own, and/or begin re-reading old favorites.

Anyway, I just finished reading the The Little White Horse, and I'm left with a joyous satisfaction. It was lovely, a cozy sort of beautifully written tale, almost a modern-day fairy tale...except it's set in the 1800's, and written before the Chronicles of Narnia, so it's not quite modern, especially not in a bad way. It had bits of mystery and danger, though some might not like the overflowing cozy sweetness of it. Some also might not like the suggestions that lots of children are a blessing, pride and curiosity can be a curse, and one of a woman's high duties is to love and honor her man. I loved it especially for those reasons! It had a few strange parts to it, I admit, and I'm not sure about all the author's theology, but for the most part I highly recommend this one, especially if you like the works of L.M. Montgomery, Louisa May Alcott, and George MacDonald.

My only other recent news is that yesterday I successfully made two Good Shepherd Pies! As my mother said, it is very hearty, simple food, and doesn't really take special ingredients but it takes either a lot of time or plenty of hands. Because I've never made it before, and because it to so long, I count it a good challenge that I took on, though it gave me sore feet from running about the kitchen so much! ;) But I think I could go faster next time. Everyone ate it, and there was still plenty for left-overs, so I count that meal a definite success!

(I know I must learn to take better pictures, but at least we're getting one here!)

P.S. I was excited to use freshly-ground pastry whole wheat for the crust. Though it could have been flakier, and I'll have to work on it, it was definitely lighter and less tough than crust made with regular whole wheat.

How it should be

And when the Old Parson read the Bible to his people, he did not read it in the sing-song sort of way that the parsons in London had read it, a way that had made one want to go to sleep. He read it as though it were tremendously exciting; dispatches dictated on a battlefield, or a letter written only yesterday and bringing great news. And when he preached, taking as his subject the glorious beauty of the world, and the necessity for praising God for it every moment of the day or else standing convicted of an ingratitude so deep that it was too dreadful even to be spoken of, it was as thrilling as a thunderstorm.

~from The Little White Horse, by Elizabeth Goudge~

Remembering His Benefits

Bless the Lord, O my soul;
And all that is within me, bless His holy name.
Bless the Lord, O my soul,
And forget none of His benefits;
~Psalm 103:1,2~

Way back when I was a smallish child of six, I wrote my first journal entry.

Translation: “One day, me, Sam, and Mama went to a wedding.”

It was my first wedding to attend, and I was duly impressed (both with the ceremony and, of course, the cake and punch afterwards!) so I apparently thought it an event deserving of record. This morning I got out that first old journal to read, laugh over, and remember. I might share some especially funny entries later, if anyone would like to see them. :-)

I’ve been thinking – for all my years of journaling (my spelling and handwriting have improved just a little, and perhaps I'm more wordy now), how often have I deliberately written careful letters and thoughts for future generations? Am I actively seeking to record God’s providences in my life? Am I keeping a record of my life story to pass on to my children so they can see that God’s faithfulness? And am I seeking to always remember, myself?

I can look at that first journal entry now and be grateful for so much. Attending that wedding was one of many opportunities my mother took to teach me that marriage is wonderful and serious, a promise before God meant to last a lifetime. I’m sure I wore a dress, and I can be thankful that I was always provided with only modest clothes, no matter how young I was. I was six, and that made me remember that I’d already learned to read and started to write (some might look at my scribbling and phonetically-correct spelling and disagree!), and the “One day” beginning showed my early love of stories.

I’ve been reminded again just how surely thankfulness cures misery, boredom, and plain old grumpiness. Not saying a vague and hurried, “Thanks, God, for everything… now, make everything better, please.” Um, nope. Not that I would know that doesn’t work from experience. *cough*

Of course we can be brief in our prayers, and of course when we don’t know specifics of something, God does. But I think He likes us to be specific when we can. And it’s so good for us! I find this in the (to often procrastinated) joy of writing thank-you notes. To write them, to speak of specific things people have done for me, is to remember my blessings and how special people are to me.

And thanking the Lord, especially recording those blessings, is a great way to glorify and delight in Him.

Here, the shepherd-poet David remembers God’s benefits to him:

Who pardons all your iniquities;
Who heals all your diseases;
Who redeems your life from the pit;
Who crowns you with lovingkindess and compassion;
Who satisfies your years with good things,
So that your youth is renewed like the eagle.
~Psalm 103:3-5~

A truly thankful heart is a delight, because it focuses on what we’ve already been given, on remembering, on pondering God’s faithfulness. Even if it’s only through the clumsy scribbles of a child, our Father is glorified. And though we’re only on earth for part the Great Story, even our frail hands can help in the telling.

(Image: Frodo writing in the Red Book, from The Return of the King)

Do Hard Things - book review

This is what we call the Rebelution: throwing off the shackles of lies and low expectations and returning our generation to a true and very exciting understanding of the teen years—not as a vacation from responsibility but as a launching pad for the rest of our lives.

~Alex and Brett Harris, from their new book Do Hard Things~

I pre-ordered several copies of this book, knowing it would be above average. It finally came, and indeed, it’s not your everyday book written by teens. (Um, there aren’t many of those, are there? Let’s say it’s not your everyday book, period.)

In the book, the Harris twins offer an expanded, in-depth look at the rebelutionary concept of doing hard things. They talk about the myth of adolescence and the potential the teen years hold. They detail five kinds of Hard Things. And they show practical ways they can be accomplished. Much of the content is familiar to me since it’s similar to articles on their blog, but it’s great to have a book-length look at Doing Hard Things.

It’s challenging. Maybe especially to those of us already past our teen years who know we could be doing more, striving for bigger and better things, and we don’t even have the excuse of being teenagers anymore. Of course, part of the whole point of the book is that being a teen is no excuse, and that they should and can rebel against low expectations. But the Do Hard Things mindset is something all Christians should have. It’s just incredibly sensible, useful, fulfilling, and possible to do so at an early age.

The stories are probably the most challenging parts of the book, since they are real-life (historical and modern) examples of teens doing real-life hard things from overcoming sickliness, buying and learning to use recording equipment, running political campaigns, beating procrastination (ouch!), designing top-quality survey programs, captaining ships, and more. Alex and Brett also do a consistent, thoughtful job of backing their points with Scripture, making their message all the more powerful.

I’m not quite finished with the book. It’s a good length. The cover design is really cool. It has an intro by Chuck Norris, if that interests anyone. (Half a year ago, I had no clue who this cool guy was who got all the jokes made about him…”You don’t know who Chuck Norris is?!?!?” was usually followed by uninformative silence. Now I know he’s a real person, not some mythical character, and I chiefly think he’s cool because he’s a Christian and admires the Harris twin’s character and message.)

I may put up more quotes from the book later, or talk about some hard things I’m attempting. For now, I recommend buying the book (or here's a cheaper autographed one) and/or reading the blog. These guys have a message that is changing lives because of its grounding in truth. I think God is using it to change mine, and only time and effort will tell where He’ll take me next.

Breaks, Boxes, and Biddies

As I claimed I actually do more with my life than read and order books, it is high time I gave a bit of an account of my doings. Think ye 'tis so? I agree.

The Break
This past week I finally made it back to Abilene to visit my college family, the Istres. That visit itself would be material for a dozen posts if I were being as regular a poster as I still hope to be. For now I'll just say I hung out with rabbits, chickens, cows, kitties, and mice, got caught up on the continuing saga of the Lox and Thingamamjigs (which the kids are writing and illustrating in spiral notebooks), eagerly studied Chelsa's homemaking notebook and showed her mine, and did so many fun things with the dear family it is hard to remember them all. Perhaps the quiet, unremarkable times just being with them were the most precious.

(From top left, going clockwise) Here Sierra, Steel, Samantha, and Sterling work on one of many Lox and Thingamajig books.

One of my favorite days, though, was Thursday, after the main chores and school had been done. We all went down to the (not so) Clear fork of the Brazos River, which runs along the back of their land. Sometimes the kids' daily exercise is a walk down the road, but this was much more exciting for me. I didn't plan on getting in, yet before I knew it, I was almost up to my knees helping them move a log to make a bridge. The log turned out too short, but once I was in I realized it had been far too long since I'd waded in a river. The day was perfect and sunny, the rushing water cold around my toes in their blue foam shoes, and I felt like a kid on an adventure. After going upriver a ways, most of us sat on the grassy bank to dry, while I began to read aloud from The Hobbit. Such a delightful morning. Not even spots of murky water (and thoughts of leeches) or a wet skirt could dampen it. ;)

The Boxes
As I said, last week's visit could fill many more blog posts. So for now I'll move on to what else has been happening in my family since my return. We have been doing precisely that: moving!


I knew we were moving to another house fairly soon, perhaps around May or so, but I came home to a very frumpled house that was fairly on its way to being dismantled already!

Oh.

The Lord has shown me that I'm not quite so selfless and composed and patient as I like to believe. Why can't we do things this way, or put this here, or do it in this order? This house doesn't even have __________ (fill in anything not normally in a smallish, oldish, oddish sort of house). What a horrible color on the inside of those cabinets! Not to mention all the other things I'd rather be (and/or feel I ought to be) doing.

But what a grand opportunity to practice patience, thankfulness, and cheerfulness in following the Lord where He takes us! May it not be wasted.

Above: So, I didn't get a photo, but this afternoon I was over at the new(to us) house cleaning. It was actually pretty fun, though it would have been more fun if I'd worn an apron. ;)

The Biddies
Finally, my most exciting news. I have new pets, wonderful creatures I brought home from the Istre farm. Four beautiful, chirpy young chickens. Don't laugh... well, alright, I give you permission if you must. Nevertheless, I am serious about raising these quirky birds. Do I know what I'm getting myself into? Not entirely. But I'm fairly certain these pets will be more exciting and productive than any old cat, dog, or hamster.

Left: Whit working on the chicken coop, while the friendly Rhode Island Red and the shyer Barred Rock check out his progress

If anyone has ideas for good chicken names, I'd welcome them. They're all hens. I'm thinking something classic and respectable for the lovely young ladies, yet not too frilly for everyday use. Meg, Jo, Beth and Amy is the closest I've come, but that doesn't quite fit, somehow... ;)

Upcoming: Do Hard Things

Do you like challenging books? Like ordering things online? See my new sidebar banner?

This to let you all know about the revelutionary, eherm, Rebelutionary book coming out soon that specifially encourages and challenges teens to rebel against low expectations by doing hard things. I'm not a teenager anymore, technically, but have been very challenged by the Harris twins' message. I actually ordered the book from Barnes and Noble, since I had a gift card to use, but pre-ordering from Amazon will do loads to drive up the publicity. People need to know about this book. So, think about buying it.

(More about my life later. I am doing more than reading and ordering books. ;)

Auralia's Colors

Auralia's Colors, by Jeffrey Overstreet

I don’t often impulsively buy books, but this was one. The cover looked so cool, I had to pick it up and feel it. And the back had a review by Kathy Tyers, author of the Firebird series. AND then I saw the author had written some stuff for Christianity Today…

Ah ha, I thought! A fantasy book written by a Christian! Could it be good, or more than good?

The plot sounded promising. After reading a chapter or so in the store, I was hooked. I still had money on a gift card, so I got it, almost as excited to be supporting a Christian fantasy writer as to have a new exciting story to read. But of course, the story’s the main thing. ;-)

This tale Overstreet weaves is enchanting. Not only is it an interesting and unpredictable plot, with unpredictable and charming characters, but his language sneaks up on one with stunning bits of poetry. And there are deeper truths shimmering on the edges, mysterious and creative, but as sure as the coming sunrise.

It has been a long, long time since I have finished a book that left me with such a swirling sea of emotions inside.

It was deeply , and sad, and horribly haunting.

So many things happened toward the end, loose threads nearly forgotten woven back in with great weight and purpose. Such beautiful loss, and fragile hope. It will take me a while to soak in the ending. What does one do with one’s self after finishing such a moving story? I already want to re-read certain echoing passages that clearly whisper truth.

Be forwarned. It ends well, but there are other threats looming, and the sequel doesn't come out until September.

(Disclaimer/Warning: It is quite violent and gruesome in spots, and a few made-up words used in name-calling. And there are certain sorts of sin hinted at a little more than I prefer. ;( So this is definitely not a children’s book. I suppose it’s a little worse than That Hideous Strength, though mostly the same sort of nastiness. Nothing bad claiming to be good.)

Edit: Thanks to one poster's comment, I found and changed my spelling error. My apologies to Mr. Jeffrey (not Jeffery) Overstreet.