in my thoughts.

You are forever "my precious one," Sarah Elizabeth.

"...with great power...comes great responsibility."

This is from the other day.

I hope you don't mind. (:

I am afraid of the dark.

Sitting quietly, I am attempting to ignore the creeking of the floor in some distant room and the sound of an object tumbling to the floor. Everything is throwing shadows in the twilight of the night. My eyes are in constant motion, looking this way and that for monsters. My mind is moving even faster--mentally preparing myself for the site of something creepy. Flickering a warm, hazy yellow, my two hazelnut candles provide ample light for me to write by. All other light is quickly fading. My eyes, stinging from the fluttering motion of the flames, are slowly adjusting to this dim prospect.

I am so tired; so very tired. The heat that has creeped through the cracks of this ole' house has robbed me of my energy. My mouth yearns for that which I cannot have. A glass of water becomes precious. The thought of electricity is embraced and hoped for. I wait in eager anticipation for the sound of our power returning. The sight of one lightbulb making its triumphant return to being of use would hold me over for a while.

Two and a half hours and counting. A tree has fallen on a power line and thus, left us with zero power.

Everybody heave...

I would like a little light and not so much darkness.

Ten minutes of panic.

This morning I went on a bikeride. It was refreshing to be outside in the cool mist of rain. I rode around happily, loop after loop. Eventually, huffing and puffing I found my way back home again. Shakily walking up my porch steps I reached for the door knob. It didn't budge. Turning it this way and that I realized it was locked. So, sighing gently I made my way back down the steps, around the house, and up my back porch steps. Aching, my legs told me to stop moving. However, I couldn't rest until I got in the house. I reached for our sliding door handle and felt it jerk and then immediately stop as the lock kicked in. This time I let out a frusterated sigh. I started talking to myself. "I'm locked out of my own house..."

Gently banging on the sliding door, I peered inside looking for some sign of life. Apparantely everyone was sleeping.

After a moment of waiting I made my way back down the porch steps and around the house to the front again. Passing by Luke's pond and getting scared to death by the scads of jumping toads. When I reached the front door I debated whether to ring the door bell or not. I didn't want to wake my grandma. So, I knocked... softly, and then a little bit louder. I waited a few minutes and jumped up and down to look into the tiny windows at the top of the door.

No one came.

So. I went back around the house and tried the garage door and the laundry room door. locked. Frusterated, I walked back up the back porch steps. Banged LOUDLY on the door and waited. No one.

So, I began my decent back down the stairs--this time--moaning.

I had been watching the clock that I could see inside. Ten minutes of this tortue had passed.

I went to the front door muttering to myself and crying out.

Finally I rang the doorbell. Without hesitation this time.

NO ONE CAME.

I bent down and searched around our potted plants--hoping someone had randomly left a spare key somewhere. Unfortunately, all spare keys appeared to have vanished.

Then I heard a sound. A banging. I looked up and around and saw Hope's face pressed against her window. I jumped up and wagged my hands at her--pointing to the door and crying out with desperation. She watched my frantic movements and understood.

A moment later she was at the door and I was inside.

I learned two things from this.

1) I can sleep well tonight knowing robbers will not get into my house. The locks all work.

and 2) Hope has a beautiful face. (:

the end.

Tales of a new day.

Last week I went to cambridge.

This week I make the "journey" again.

picture this...you're with a good friend, the conversation begins to slowly falter and eventually it completely fades away. A silence grows steadily as the minutes pass by from whence you last spoke. You sit in the the moment without saying a word.

This has happened to me more than once. I have struggled in the past with feeling pressure of having to "fill in the silence" or somehow interrupt this "awkward pause."

HOWEVER. Thankfully, in a few circumstances I have felt completely at ease. Soaking up the moment and rejoicing in the fact that our friendship can hold strong even when there are no words to say.

"silence is golden."

for me, I prefer and am encouraged when I can simply sit still and not feel it necessary to constantly be doing something with a friend.

it is in those rare moments that I see a glimpse of true love between friends. a love that passes the barrier of having to be enterained...but, instead...remains steady in all circumstances.