selfies

to edgar, love ellen. your turn.

both sooc. i <3> manual mode!

sumer is icumin in

And the drocht of marche hath peirc'd to the roote and bath'd every vein in sich liquer...I don't remember the rest.
(note the cheeky poky petals. didn't know flo'rs could have bad hair days, didja?)

This week's load/list of things to do (I have two. Because one wasn't enough.) is ridiculous. I dislike weeks like that; you feel defeated before you begin almost. But we just so happened to have discussed Rom. 8:11 this week, which makes it hard to feel defeated about anything. Haha! Alleluia I say!


I think it's cool how Easter comes in the spring. The correlation is probably one of the most obvious and duh and oft-repeated things in existence, but it never fails to give me shivers. Like sunrises and sunsets. There have been a million bajillion and there will be quite a few more to come. . .but each one is extravagantly meaningful. Ahhh. New life has been popping out from the ground all around here these days. And I was determined to get out in it, even if only for a few minutes between essays.


I always have the nagging feeling it's bad form to post more than one or two photos of the same thing. But I had the rare experience of producing more than 1 focused photos in a row of these flo'rs and hence kind of wish to upload them all. Shall content myself with 3.







In closing, be not like the horse nor the mule nor the poor old amca who was too concentrated on the road to enjoy the loveliness around him.


ta ta!

trees

to tide you over. click it.

as promised

listen

how long you have traveled
in darkness weeping


no rest in language
no words to speak

but there in the wreckage
beneath bricks and bindings
love has come, love has come for you


against the night sky
of your waiting


your face is like starlight
when he walks in

and everything worth keeping
comes through dying
and love has come, love has come for you


so lift up your heart now
to this unfolding


all that has been broken
will be restored


and here run deep waters
for all who are thirsty

love has come, love has come for you


ten thousand angels
will light your pathway


until the day breaks
fully in the East


and they will surround you
and make your way straight
cause love has come, love has come for you


oh love has come, love has come

for you

dear swisties

Have you ever noticed the man in the moon?

He's a master of reflection

Somehow he knows and imitates my heart's expression

Some nights he's melting in clouds of tears

Or shining a smile like the bright sun.

Oh, but tonight the moon looks like he's

missing someone

I see the moon

The moon sees me

The moon sees the one that I wanna see

so God bless the moon

and God bless me

and God

bless the ones I'm longing to see

Sniffle. Chris Rice.

*legitimizes post*

The heavens were big into the declaring business tonight!

-

yay bicycle silhouettes.

(The word silhouette is super fun to spell; I recommend it.)

& lots more barbed wire to come.

bloodstuffs!

Anatomy & Physiology is the grooviest class. I got to test meself for me blood type today! I couldn't, of course, be anything but an A+ individual all round. (;

Clearly though I have a ways to go before I get to be an A+ nurse. I had to stab myself in three different fingers before I got one willing to yield up its bloodstuffs for the cause. Error #1 was to do with calluses, error #2 to do with not enough deepness of stabbage. #3 was error free (yay!).

There was even a darling little alchohol wipey :D

P.S. This post has been for gleeful purposes only! Let us go over the catechisms.
Q. Should we try this at home without supervision and precautions?
A. No.

To legitimize this post. . .
a blorsom and
some blacknwhite.

And a quiz!

a) this
or

b) this?
finis.

snuffle.

This cold/flu dealio is doggedly persisting. Between the three of us, we've probably blown through a rainforest of tissues by now. Sorry rainforest! We're planning to make up for it by recycling our old essay drafts. The precise details of how we are going to recycle said drafts remains unclear. . .that's Sarah's job. Mom's job is to keep the pile of drafts from spreading out of 1 pile into 7.4 piles. My job is to continue issuing plentiful essay drafts. Clearly, (hello semester project) I will have no trouble upholding my end of the bargain.

Speaking of semester projects! I'm planning to make a portfolio of some of my favorite photographs as a part of my senior project. There aren't that many photos up here, but if any photos you remember strike you as folio material, do comment in the comments, wot.

I know the above photo is terribly composed, but the bobs of bokeh please me so much I have uploaded it anyway. Until very recently I though bokeh was unachievable with my cameratic! Super glad I was wrong.

Speaking of my cameratic, it has been very finicky of late. A few days ago, it appeared to have kicked the bucket. Given up the ghost. Flashed its last. My battery charger is unreliable at best, so we originally thought the problem was power. But several AA battery tries later, it still wasn't turning on.

I clutched it very close and regretted every harsh word about how long it takes to process. I rued each depricating insult against its non-DSLR-ness. I wiped tears off its ridgey plastic hand grip.

Then after I tenderly cleaned out the battery receptor thingies with a q-tip rubbed in babywipes, it blinked and turned on as of aeld. Oh the joy. It had only been dead for about five minutes, but ladles and jellyspoons I ask you. Did I learn my lesson?

Yes. I did. I am very thankful for my dear wacky little nonDSLR of a Kodak z812. I think most of his perceived deficiencies will be taken care of as we continue to get to know each other better. And after all. I kind of like having to work to get my bobs of bokehyness: I appreciate them more. What right have I to get a cameratic which does all the thinking for me before I know how to think myself eh? Right?

Of course right. :D


The end!

All photos taken on my constitutional today, which was pleasant in every way except the frigid wind which blew all the branches round and made for difficulties in composing. Neyse the light was lovely, and goodbye.