Untimely Charity.

Mom and dad at some point decided that they would assist the parents of  one if Josh's classmates in the way one babysitting him for the afternoon whilst they move something (large) to somewhere(else). I only came by the information that they had decided this shortly before they left to bring Matt, Josh, Becca, and said unnamed Afrikaner home from school. I must confess, I panicked. There was no way that I could possibly clean my room (well enough for visitors) before my mom arrived home with them, too much school yet for that, and I have no idea as to the nature of this boy, be it mischievous or not— and I am certain of one thing; I don't want to find this out the hard way. 

So, in the spirit of self conservation, I have locked and fortified it into a veritable Fort Knox. The only minor (ok– major) flaw with my plan is that we haven't eaten lunch yet, and... well eating lunch when not in the dining room is usually er... difficult. So I'll have to leave my room sometime— oh there's the call for lunch now. I'll let you know if I survive. [1:02 PM]

[1:38]- I survived lunch, the visitor is shy, perhaps even more so than I am. He didn't say much, in fact I'm tempted to say he didn't say anything at all but it seems that he and Josh have worked out a mode of communication based on facial gestures and eye movements. 

He was blond, tan-skinned (darkly), and buzzed cut as most Afrikaners are, he wore short-shorts, long socks pulled about half way up to his knees, again– nothing out of the ordinary. There were only two things that made him different from most other Afrikaner boys (between 8&10 years of age. In like most, his eyes are brown, and he wore a button-up shirt— without a collar. I observed him as closely as possible without stalking him, and without starring at him, 'cause that would have just been uncomfortable for both of us. I can't say much on him, but I'm not sure how I like him yet. I've got a bit of school-work yet to do, but I'll let you know how it ends later-[1:55 PM]

[5:41 PM]- After I finished my schoolwork I practiced my ocarina, did some research and almost forgot that Shaun (as I have learned his name is) was here, everything was so quiet; which isn't normal at all. I went out to investigate and found that Matt Josh and Shaun were watching a movie together. "Perhaps they can be civil" I thought to my self. So I watched them. They played on the Wii, Lego Star Wars, Wii sports, and supermario bros. for Wii. Later they moved onto playing Minecraft on the iPad, and from there Angry Birds, Naught and Bad Piggies. The only conclusion I could come to about this boy was "for a farmer boy, he's really good at video games."

I slumped into my bed. I felt defeated. Going over what I knew, I was dissatisfied with the amount of information I had gathered on Shaun. He and I hadn't once spoken, and it wasn't likely to happen in the future, any time soon. He would be leaving soon and— heeyyy! He would be leaving soon and if I could see his mom, there could be any ammount of gleamable information there! With that idea in hand, I sat on the front porch and waited! And, waited... And waited. For about twenty minutes I waited, I checked my watch, and waited twenty more. And at exactly half-past naked-arm, I decided it might be more productive if I went and caught the cat so that I couldn't escape before it was time  to come in for the night.

I found him right away, shut him up in my bedroom and proceeded to shut up the house. It didn't occurr to me that this might be a bad idea until my mom scolded me for shutting the windows in the living room, because it had cut off the breeze from their exercising area. When I had finished reopening that end of the house, I saw a car pull up to the gate. 

It was a nice car, a white one. Mom came into the room and asked if I would get the gate. My plan was working perfectly! I got to the front door and thought I'd heard something, but I couldn't tell over my dad's exercise music. I opened the door and his mother was right-there! I didn't quite remember what I had been going to say, and proceeded to institute the most awkward silence of my life. I quickly went and got Shaun and informed him that his mum was here, and as they were leaving I went out to control Buster, who was being a bit rambunctious. I sighed to my self, maybe it would have been easier if I had just talked to him.

Recovery time. A satire

My best excuse for not entering anything the last two days is that; I was very busy with school work and other things. My excuse becomes significantly less convincing when the things that i was busy with were drawing a fake map, and building grammar and grammatical structures for my conlang, but I have to spend time on those too.

Today, things went rather well school wise. That is; until about lunch time, when my stomach started hurting so badly that I could no longer considerate. I went out and sat down in our living room. The room is rather large, even with two couches, an arm chair, television set, and our own personal library (which is also the best library in the country). I decided that this would be a good time to pipe a tune on my ocarina. Just as I finished the most convincing finally of "My Favorite Things" yet-- my lip split... again. I proceeded to wander back to my dad's room where the Vaseline was. Evidently, my dad had gotten there just before I had. The Vaseline was in his closet, and so was he. I walked in and tried to reach for the Vaseline, but he gave me this look over his shoulder; like I'd burnt the cookies and said:

"It followssss ussss, and doessssn't knockssss, Precioussss?" In a deep throaty, raspy voice. I backed up and knocked on the door. "Oh now it knockes!" he replied. I went again for the Vaseline, but he started again, "Ooh, it doessssn't even ask Ussss."

"Fine," he was being unusually difficult, in play- but still. "May I get something?"

"What doessss he want, precioussss?"

"The Vaseline, my lip split." I said, then just to get him for giving me a hard time I added, "And, you said 'he' not 'it' the last time." to which he made one of the labored sounds, like when some one says 'Darn' really loud and fast."But other than that is was a good Gollum impression."  I walked back out to the living room trying not to smile so as not to hurt my lip.

I sat in the chair and just thought to my self, "Ok, you've got the imperative sentence structure down now we should get to the exclamatory- exclamations, what am I thinking, I should invent the plural form! OF WHAT? You haven't invented any nouns yet! What you really need to get on to is the alphabet. Which one- actually no let me take a step back, we can't make the alphabet until we have a larger grammar database. The conversations I have with my self are rarely less confusing than this. I thought on a bit longer. When my dad came the room, I put my thoughts away and dusted out my attic.

My dad sat there for a few minutes, or maybe it was seconds, and then rose to his feet and said (in his normal voice) "I know how to get them to come home so we can eat!" and rushed out of the room. I stared after him wondering what on earth he was talking about. He came not two minutes afterward carrying my school books. All I could do was stare at the ceiling and laugh, but it does seem as though when ever we sit down to get to school, They usually come in and cause a large commotion, and usually causing dad to have to leave to disband some micro crusade, or something of the sort. Well this time- NOTHING happened, at all. We actually made it through, my assignments without being interrupted. All I could think was "Praise to the Lord!" I honestly cannot remember the last time this happened.

About ten minutes later they arrived home and dad and I (who had been sitting at the table staring at the empty bowls before us) were saved from fainting from low blood sugar. We ate soup, drank assorted juices, and were very thankful.when we had finished, I cleared the table, and got back to school.

It's what happened next that has me convinced that my brothers can, not only read minds, but also do positively ridiculous things just to watch my thoughts get all mixed up.

I was very nearly finished with my school work, but there were a few Items that I couldn't find in the books, so I went to ask dad for help. He came and sat down, and we were trying to figure out exactly which terms to search for when; Knock Knock Knock! "NO!" I answered the door, and at the same time, dad says,

"Come in!"
"How could you?" I whispered to him. It was Josh, and I did the only thing one can do when Josh enters a room. I berried my head in my hands and braced my self. Josh opened the door slowly, so slowly that it was nearly painful, he walked in his enormous blue eyes roving all the while, and on every pass they made over my room, his eyes met mine, mischievously. By this time my thoughts were racing, "did I leave my scissors out- where are my recorders? In my cubby, good- my mug?- not impotent-" and other such thoughts. Dad had finished answering whatever question Josh had come to have answered, and Josh walked out of my room walking slowly and backward so as to reveal, his menacing little grin. though he was only in my room for one minute, it took my ten minutes to clean all of the dust out of my attic and resume my studies.





**NOTE: This is not meant to be taken seriously AT ALL. This is to be read for comedic purposes ONLY.

Frequency.

While I was bathing this morning, I had a thought. There are three kinds of thoughts, you know. The kind that comes and goes and one can barely recall having had it unless something reminds them of it, then the second kind that is linked to a particular topic and one remembers it when ever the topic is gone over, and then there is the third kind; this kind stabs you right between the ears, and has not the decency to leave your alone to risk driving you insane. The thought I had was of the third type.

"Why, why, WHY?" it murmured in my head. "why should we put more effort into a book that we'll be fortunate to finish let alone published, than we would put into our journal?" And I must admit, the question has merit; why should I put my focus there? Well after all the stress of the last week, (I got completely fripped out by school) I brushed that aside. I didn't have much school work to do today so I decided to go on a walk, to clear my head and just maybe, catch an idea for my story.

I took Buster (below) with me

and went on my usual route. It felt good to get out of the house and feel the ground under my feet. It had been a long time since I'd gone walking because the pad of my left heel cracked rather badly and I had to wait a while for the skin to heal. Hence the fact that I hadn't left the house in a few weeks. Walking has always seems to get me thinking even better than my first cup of green tea. While the two of us kept walking ideas and thoughts came flooding into my head, but there was still that sharp little prick right between my eyes; "Why?" This time I had to shove the thought out of my head, well as best I could anyway.

I came back home and discovered (much to my chagrin) that my little sister was home sick-- again. My little brothers had been home all last week "sick", they weren't sick most of the time; and they had nearly driven me mad with their antics. I was also informed that I had a rather large load of dishes to wash. I could not have been made to do a chore that I like less (except maybe poop duty, but that one is really closely tied), so with the immeasurable joy of a grave yard positively gilding my face, I set to work. Now, I don't do stuff like this absentmindedly but as I was scrubbing a particularly uncooperative plate, the thought just had to rise up again. "Why?" At that I flew through the dishes as fast as my hands could get them clean. No sooner than I had finished did I proceed to my school work.

I ran to my room fast enough (hopefully) that my vexing thoughts wouldn't be able to follow, and slammed the door as quietly as possible. However, my problems weren't so easily escaped. As I turned and rested my back on the door I beheld, on my desk, propped against the wall; my literature exam. I heard come plodding along down the hall. I ran for my exam and ponced upon it, as fast a my eyes could go, I read the questions. These exams have been getting to be very effortful of late, and though their not my favorite, they do require more concentration than they used to. I used that to my (temporary) advantage. However, it did not last long, and (unfortunately) I'd finished.

I felt calm, for about nine seconds before my thoughts took me again. "why should we put more effort into a book that we'll be fortunate to finish let alone published, than we would put into our journal?"

"Why indeed,"

"There is no reason, and you know it!"

I thought up every reason that I could think of, In vain of course, because he can always see through my pathetic excuses. So after about an hour of arguing with myself left and right, the inevitable conclusion was reached that, there was no good reason, so long as it doesn't interfere with my studies. Because, honestly, I really have nothing better to do, and the up side is I'll have some recorded memories lain away for later. So this is the first step towards that end. Now I have to go and start working on that L.A.R.P. for my little brothers. See ya!

Autumn Almost Over.

Autumn, has come and gone here in Botswana all but unnoticed. Most of the trees haven't changed, those that have did because of a lack of water. Not exactly the beautiful north American Autumn.

 Not exactly an inspirational time of year here unlike in North America. The days are cooler, and the nights have grown ever so slightly longer, not like in Michigan where you get only four hours of light in the winter, but they are still shorter. the nights have actually gotten to be cold enough to where I have to sleep with a feather blanket, but then again I find 45 degrees Fahrenheit nippy; so that could just be me.

To be honest, I didn't even realize that autumn had already come and gone (I know, there's still a few days left, but still), after experiencing a Michigan autumn. In a way it's strange and in away it's not. The first three years we lived here, I lived in a world devoid of time beyond day and night, hot and not, wet and dry. The names months went unspoken, we judged the seasons by what he could see of them. We knew it was winter when it got to freezing at night, we knew it was summer when it was to hot to expend any energy at all; in fact I think the sun burnt the calories out from beneath my skin. That was how time was measured.

When we went back to the States, we were yet again bound by time, the clock and the calender and that's pretty much how it has stayed for most of my family. But not me. Any way.

The sun doesn't scourge the ground any more, the waves from the ground no longer distort every thing farther away than twenty feet. The nights have grown pleasantly cool, and the road no longer burns your feet. The birds have become frolicsome, awaiting the call to the north. Vivaldi's seasons, are on the breeze and puppies are playfully bounding up and down the yard. This is tropical Autumn.

Musical pottery: Week 133

Don't you just love those home schooling weeks where you accomplish absolutely nothing? Yeah, me neither. I cannot understand exactly how, but someway or other I just cannot seem to get algebra right. If I were in a regular school I'd be failed, but recall this is home school, so in the stead of being failed; I get to go back and repeat everything that I didn't get the next day. The issue comes when dad tries to teach the material several different ways and it still doesn't work, which isn't to say that he's not teaching it right; I'm just not getting it.

I haven't really left the house in a few weeks now, which I find surprising even while typing this. I'll be right right back. [twenty minutes later]-- Sorry, I had to thwart the rabid living-room dust bunnies.

anyway: I don't understand it, but it's almost as if I'm ok with not having physical friends (which is kind of scary... well it is for me...). I don't know what changed, because even last year, I was like ravenously searching for friends to be had, I was almost willing to befriend anyone. It just seem a little weird(er) for me that's all. Actually, come to think of it; I have even turned down opportunities to meet other people here. What's wrong with me?

My little brothers have been very interested in my L.A.R.P. games recently. Not that my games were ever that good. They asked me to revive the game Mystic (again), which is more work than I think they realize, but I think I will revive it though; it will give me something to get my mind off of how terrible I feel about school. I never knew the original premise, but as near as I can tell it was something to the affect of "An evil sorcerer, The lord of the Dark Woods sought to take over, or destroy something, and the only one who can stand in his way is the leader of a small band of traveling warriors." something like that. My versions never stayed very close to the original, mostly because I never knew enough about the first story line. So I'll be writing a reboot for that soon (hopefully the next few weeks).

 Bole escaped again a couple days ago, but I have had it. I'm not going to look for him this time. I'm not going to check the gate to see if he's returned; I won't even open the gate for him if he Does return. The most I'll have to do with him is: if I see him again, I'm going to take back the collar that he escaped with. That's it. Nothing more. Hopefully my dad will be able to find a good boerbole puppy to replace him. =======>
There is a part of me that from time to time I feel sad for Buster, because even last night he and Bole were barking at each other. Buster's voice was so mournful (and he doesn't always sound like that). Bole wasn't here BTW, he was a block away, but still, I feel bad for Buster. he really deserved a better brother. It isn't quite fair that Bole hurts Buster like this, but what can you do?

And now for the namesake of this post. I have been practicing my ocarinas a LOT lately, almost incessantly. I have also been practicing my other instruments, but there is something about the sound of the ocarina that is almost mesmerizing, sweeter than a silver flute, colder than a recorder; it's like the musical personification of the first snow day.

Something like the musical equivalent to maple-candy. If you've ever heard one played well (sorry Ryan, that excludes my playing) you'll know what I mean. So dream like.

The first time heard one, the sound of it! It was a woodwind quartet led by an Ocarina. they were playing "Greensleeves", a song born for the flute, if ever one were. I quickly fell in love with the gentle, energetic, flowing and bouncing rhythm of the music, and more than that, the instrument. Odd perhaps, but hey; that's me.

The count has started– Week: 134.

I really haven't done anything recently, except for boring stuff that no one want to hear about like video games. I had been working on short stories, but I just can't seem to find a story that hasn't been told before and that's worth being told. 

My condition continuously seems to be getting in the way of everything that I toil to achieve. The one thing that it doesn't seem to affect is my music, not that is organized either; but if I'm going to get into Seward, I'll need to be able to read music. Curses! Why did I ever want psychological help? It hasn't done any thing to help me if anything, it has made my problems worse.

Bole hasn't been an issue of late. I wish I could say "it was because someone took him", but I can't. We have had to make a dog runner for him and he has not escaped since. This makes one aspect of my chores easier, and that's poop duty. 

I'm really frustrated with a lot right now– and worried. How am I going to make it through college if I can't even finish my high schooling? On top of that I have never been left alone without enough food to survive the duration of my parents absence. So yeah, I'm a little concerned. 

I'm not sure wether or not to label this good or bad news but; my first wisdom tooth is coming in. So I'm gonna hope that's fun. In the mean time; back to my ocarina!

— Chris.