23.3.08

Easter Sabbath

After awhile my eyes and ears were tired of the novelty Morse Code offered me for the afternoon. I had woken up at 11:54am. That was six minutes before I had planned on going to watch Beau play Jesus in the Sonrise. Needless to say, I didn't make it. After dressing, I wandered around outside more or less looking for him leading a big group of tourists. I couldn't find him. So I came back inside to my comforting room. Dark and cool, where my computer sits calmly lightint my face, always welcoming me with a new song from pandora. I thought for a moment or two about what to do. Since I figured nothing was going to happen unless I made it happen, I decided to look up Morse Code. I've had this paper that has the code on it for probably at least 10 years, no joke. I recently taped it to my closet wall in the hopes that seeing it every day would make me learn it over time. I have not been successful yet. And yet, it succeeded in reminding me today of my reluctant desire to learn it eventually, at least. So google helped me find a couple good places to start. Wikipedia had some useful information and I read up on the Koch method of learning it and the F-something timing. Finally I stumbled on a site that has a downloadable program that insists it will help you learn how to read Morse Code. So I downloaded it. And tried it out for a couple minutes. It was so cool! Unfortately, by this time an hour or so had passed and I was researched-up. So I closed the program and sat there for a few more minutes trying to think of what to do next. Reading sounded good. And walking on the Biology trail. So I did. Dad sent me an email a few days (weeks?) ago that I had saved onto my computer. Oh, it was over spring break and the wireless at the bookstore sucked, so that's why I had savefd it. I read it for the first time this afternoon. It was really good. Thanks, Dad. He quoted Ministry of Healing in it several times so I dug up the book from it's hiding place and grabbed my waterbottle and headed out. After visiting the mysterious bunkers above the landscape building, I backtracked a while and then headed up to the ridge. After finding a rock that sat me quite comfortably, I read and perused MH for a while. After that, I went right and tried to find the cliffs above the bend where Verizon customers lose their signal. I didn't find it. But I almost stepped on this little black bird that didn't move the entire time I stared at it and tried to take a decent picture of it with my phone (why bother? it never works). Then I walked along the ridge. Jeremiah had called about twenty minutes after I had left my room. Honestly, I was hoping someone would call earlier as I didn't know how to call. That's why I had to go walk. So I didn't answer since I had already set my mind on walking. But I decided to take the ridge over to where I thought his house would be and try to find it on the other side. So I did. But it took forever. And I went to far, then went down, then recognized where I was and had to go back a ways. I finally made it and felt great for having achieved my goal. But the the mafia came and scared me up the hill towards Jeremiah's and his brother's fort where I had to flee up the hill breathing hard for fear of being recognized and laughed at. Big deal. Who would even care? Jeremiah didn't answer when I called him from the top of his road so I walked back to my dorm where I made supper, talked to Adam, then went to Ben's house for a movie. Then check, Jericho, and bloggerizing. Now sleep. What a day.

18.3.08

he rows of hour daze.



This is my brother. With his chick. We've had some good times together, but it seems like the best times are happening right now while we are thousands of miles separated. He has always been an inspiration to me because of his phlegmatic inner strength. He is cool, but passionate. Strong, but soft-hearted. He has a will and stubborness of iron, but will bend and break for something he wants. He can even grow a beard. He runs fast, even when his joints hurt. He swims as fast, or faster, than me without training. He climbs, jumps, scrambles, bikes, runs, sprints, laughs, travels, experiences, tells stories, eats, and certainly drinks, all with a gusto and heartiness and more robustly than I could ever achieve. He is humble enough to smile in my face when he wins in a way that can only leave me smiling and wishing I could be more like him as well. I can read faster than him, though. But unfortunately that doesn't mean I understand faster than him. His hands work wonders with things that he gets them on. Even if they are grandpa's hands, those grubby short little muscular hands that leave little traces of moisture on mine when we grasp hands during prayer or wrestle. His understanding of mechanics and of physics and nature is astounding. His retainment of the seemingly insignificant things proves how significant they can be. He works hard when he wants to and doesn't mind dreaming the day away. I think his dreams are probably more beautiful than words could describe, but they usually stay on his wall next to his pillow. That's my brother and I'm proud of him. I know that he will help me when I need him and that I will be there for him, as well. We are brothers and I'm so glad that it turned out that way. Someday, it will come in more handy than I know, I think.