Belated Valentine's Day Post

I know this is a bit late but here goes.

There are a great variety of Valentine’s Day persons from the in-the-air people to the depressed, chocolate-craving singles. In highest to lowest, there are the areal ones as in the people who are off in the skies because either there bf/gf is the best in the world or their new fiancé just proposed. Below these sky-high people are the normal girlfriend and boyfriend. Slightly more affectionate and in a better mood, these are normal.

Now out of the realm of the one un-single, there are the one that are complacent. They simply do not care for Valentines except for the cheap chocolate. After this apathetic group there are the people in denial. They really want out of the single life but refuse to say it right out. These people also gorge on chocolate in their self-pity. In a similar zone stand the one who have really bad crush on someone and just can’t get the courage. A common symptom is extreme depression.

Below this category lie the extremes. These are the ones with the worst pity parties you can imagine. Also to a degree they fit with the one above, visible marks appear on this group. Constantly crying and updating their Facebook, Google+ etc. everyone knows.

Thus I conclude my short character sketch. 

The Ugly Duckling Part 3

PRINCE (amazed). Is that so? I’ve never read history. I thought I was being profoundly original.
PRINCESS. Oh, no! Now I’ll tell you my secret. For reasons very much like your own, the Princess Camilla, who is held to be extremely plain, feared to meet Prince Simon. Is the drawbridge down yet?
PRINCE. Do your people give a faint, surprised cheer every time it gets down?
PRINCESS. Naturally.
PRINCE. Then it came down about three minutes ago.
PRINCESS. Ah! Then at this very moment your man Carlo is declaring his passionate love for my maid Dulcibella. That, I think, is funny. (So does the PRINCE. He laughs heartily.) Dulcibella, by the way, is in love with a man she calls Eg, so I hope Carlo isn’t getting carried away.
PRINCE. Carlo is married to a girl he calls “the little woman,” so Eg has nothing to fear.
PRINCESS. By the way, I don’t know if you heard, but I said, or as good as said, that I am the Princess Camilla.
PRINCE. I wasn’t surprised. History, of which I read a great deal, records many similar ruses.
PRINCESS (laughing). Simon!
PRINCE (laughing). Camilla! (He stands up.) May I try holding you again? (She nods. He takes her in his arms and kisses her.) Sweetheart!
PRINCESS. You see, when you lifted me up before, you said, “You’re very lovely,” and my godmother said that the first person to whom I would seem lovely was the man I should marry; so I knew then that you were Simon and I should marry you.
PRINCE. I knew directly I saw you that I should marry you, even if you were Dulcibella. By the way, which of you am I marrying?
PRINCESS. When she lifts her veil, it will be Camilla. (Voices are heard outside.) Until then it will be Dulcibella.
PRINCE (in a whisper). Then good-bye, Camilla, until you lift your veil.
PRINCESS. Good-bye, Simon, until you raise your visor.
(The KING and QUEEN come in arm-in-arm, followed by CARLO and DULCIBELLA, also arm-in-arm. The CHANCELLOR precedes them, walking backwards, at a loyal angle.)
PRINCE (supporting the CHANCELLOR as an accident seems inevitable). Careful! (The CHANCELLOR turns indignantly around.)
KING. Who and what is this? More accurately who and what are all these?
CARLO. My attendant, Carlo, Your Majesty. He will, with Your Majesty’s permission, prepare me for the ceremony. (The PRINCE bows.)
KING. Of course, of course!
QUEEN (To DULCIBELLA). Your maid, Dulcibella, is it not, my love? (DULCIBELLA nods violently.) I thought so. (To CARLO) She will prepare Her Royal Highness. (The PRINCESS curtsies.)
KING. Ah, yes. Yes. Most important.
PRINCESS (curtsying). I beg pardon, Your Majesty, if I’ve done wrong, but I found the gentleman wandering—
KING (crossing to her). Quite right, my dear, quite right. (He pinches her cheek, and takes advantage of this kingly gesture to say in a loud whisper) We’ve pulled it off!
(They sit down; the KING and QUEEN on their thrones, DULCIBELLA on the PRINCESS’ throne. CARLO stands behind DULCIBELLA, the CHANCELLOR on the right of the QUEEN, and the PRINCE and PRINCESS behind the long seat on the left.)
CHANCELLOR (consulting documents). H’r’m! Have I Your Majesty’s authority to put the final test to His Royal Highness?
QUEEN (whispering to KING). Is this safe?
KING (whispering). Perfectly, my dear. I told him the answer a minute ago. (Over his shoulder to CARLO.) Don’t forget. Dog. (Aloud) Proceed, Your Excellency. It is my desire that the affairs of my country should ever be conducted in a strictly constitutional manner.
CHANCELLOR (oratorically). By the constitution of the country, a suitor to Her Royal Highness’ hand cannot be deemed successful until he has given the correct answer to a riddle. (Conversationally) The last suitor answered incorrectly, and thus failed to win his bride.
KING. By a coincidence he fell into a moat.
CHANCELLOR (To CARLO). I have now to ask Your Royal Highness if you are prepared for the ordeal?
CARLO (cheerfully). Absolutely.
CHANCELLOR. I may mention, as a matter, possibly, of some slight historical interest to our visitor, that by the constitution of the country the same riddle is not allowed to be asked on two successive occasions.
KING (startled). What’s that?
CHANCELLOR. This one, it is interesting to recall, was propounded exactly a century ago, and we must take it as a fortunate omen that it was well and truly solved.
KING (to QUEEN.) I may want my sword directly.
CHANCELLOR. The riddle is this. What is it which has four legs and mews like a cat?
CARLO (promptly). A dog.
KING (still more promptly). Bravo, bravo! (He claps loudly and nudges the QUEEN, who claps too.)
CHANCELLOR (peering at his documents). According to the records of the occasion to which I referred, the correct answer would seem to be—
PRINCESS (to PRINCE). Say something, quick!
CHANCELLOR. —not dog, but—
PRINCE. Your Majesty, have I permission to speak? Naturally His Royal Highness could not think of justifying himself on such an occasion, but I think that with Your Majesty’s gracious permission, I could—
KING. Certainly, certainly.
PRINCE. In our country, we have an animal to which we have given the name “dog,” or, in the local dialect of the more mountainous districts, “doggie.” It sits by the fireside and purrs.
CARLO. That’s right. It purrs like anything.
PRINCE. When it needs milk, which is its staple food, it mews.
CARLO (enthusiastically). Mews like nobody’s business.
PRINCE. It also has four legs.
CARLO. One on each corner.
PRINCE. In some countries, I understand, this animal is called a “cat.” In one distant country to which His Royal Highness and I penetrated it was called by the very curious name of “hippopotamus.”
CARLO. That’s right. (To the PRINCE.) Do you remember that ginger-coloured hippopotamus which used to climb on my shoulder and lick my ear?
PRINCE. I shall never forget it, sir. (To the KING.) So you see, Your Majesty—
KING. Thank you. I think that makes it perfectly clear. (Firmly to the CHANCELLOR.) You are about to agree?
CHANCELLOR. Undoubtedly, Your Majesty. May I be the first to congratulate His Royal Highness on solving the riddle so accurately?
KING. You may be the first to see that all is in order for an immediate wedding.
CHANCELLOR. Thank you, Your Majesty. (He bows and withdraws. The KING rises, as do the QUEEN and DUCIBELLA.)
KING (to CARLO). Doubtless, Prince Simon, you will wish to retire and prepare yourself for the ceremony.
CARLO. Thank you, sir.
PRINCE. Have I Your Majesty’s permission to attend His Royal Highness? It is the custom of his country for Princes of royal blood to be married in full armor, a matter which requires a certain adjustment—
KING. Of course, of course. (CARLO bows to the KING and QUEEN and goes out. As the PRINCE is about to follow, the KING stops him.) Young man, you have a quality of quickness which I admire. It is my pleasure to reward it in any way which commends itself to you.
PRINCE. Your Majesty is ever gracious. May I ask for my reward after the ceremony? (He catches the eye of the PRINCESS, and they give each other a secret smile.)
KING. Certainly. (The PRINCE bows and goes out. To DULCIBELLA) Now, young woman, make yourself scarce. You’ve done your work excellently, and we will see that you and your—what was his name?
DULCIBELLA. Eg, Your Majesty.
KING. —that you and your Eg are not forgotten.
DULCIBELLA. Coo! (She curtsies and goes out.)
PRINCESS (calling). Wait for me, Dulcibella!
KING (to QUEEN). Well, my dear, we may congratulate ourselves. As I remember saying to somebody once, “You have not lost a daughter, you have gained a son.” How does he strike you?
QUEEN. Stupid.
KING. They make a very handsome pair, I thought, he and Dulcibella.
QUEEN. Both stupid.
KING. I said nothing about stupidity. What I said was that they were both extremely handsome. That is the important thing. (Struck by a sudden idea.) Or isn’t it?
QUEEN. What do you think of him, Camilla?
PRINCESS. I adore him. We shall be so happy together.
KING. Well, of course you will. I told you so. Happy ever after.
QUEEN. Run along now and get ready.
PRINCESS. Yes, mother. (She throws a kiss to them and goes out.)
KING (anxiously). My dear, have we been wrong about Camilla all this time? It seemed to me that she wasn’t looking quite so plain as usual just now. Did you notice anything?
QUEEN (carelessly). Just the excitement of the marriage.
KING (relieved). Ah, yes, that would account for it.

Outlaws

History Factionary

Jesse James wasn’t your normal outlaw. For some of his life he joined the Confederates as… a raider… figures, but his life ended not so dramatically as the movies. He had two gang members over, and when he turned around to fix a picture, his dear friend shot him for the money on his head. Go figure.

Ugly Duckling part two

And the next part

CHANCELLOR (hurriedly). Indeed, yes, Your Majesty. (The KING relaxes)
QUEEN. And Great-Aunt Malkin said—(to the KING)—what were the words?
KING. I give you with this kiss
A wedding day surprise,
Where ignorance is bliss,
‘tis folly to be wise.
I thought the last two lines rather neat. But what it meant—
QUEEN. We can all see what it meant. She was given beauty—and where is it? Great-Aunt Malkin took it away from her. The wedding-day surprise is that there will never be a wedding day.
KING. Young men being what they are, my dear, it would be much more surprising if there were a wedding day. So how—
(The PRINCESS comes in. She is young, happy, healthy, but not beautiful. Or let us say that by some trick of makeup or arrangement of hair she seems plain to us: unlike the Princess of the storybooks.)
PRINCESS (to the KING). Hallo, darling! (Seeing the others.) Oh, I say! Affairs of state? Sorry.
KING (holding out his hand). Don’t go, Camilla. (She takes his hand)
CHANCELLOR. Shall I withdraw, Your Majesty?
QUEEN. You are aware, Camilla, that Prince Simon arrives to-day?
PRINCESS. He has arrived. They're just letting down the drawbridge.
KING (jumping up). Arrived! I must—
PRINCESS. Darling, you know what the drawbridge is like. It takes at least half an hour to let it down.
KING (sitting down). It wants oil. (To the CHANCELLOR.) Have you been grudging it oil?
PRINCESS. It wants a new drawbridge, darling.
CHANCELLOR. Have I Your Majesty’s permission—
KING. Yes, yes. (The CHANCELLOR bows and goes out.)
QUEEN. You’ve told him, of course? It’s the only chance.
KING. Er—no. I was just going to, when—
QUEEN. Then I’d better. (She goes to the door.) You can explain it to the girl; I’ll have her sent to you. You’ve told Camilla?
KING. Er—no. I was just going to, when—
QUEEN. Then you’d better tell her now.
KING. My dear, are you sure—
QUEEN. It’s the only chance left. (Dramatically to heaven) My daughter! (She goes out.) (There is a little silence when she is gone.)
KING. Camilla, I want to talk seriously to you about marriage.
PRINCESS. Yes, father.
KING. It is time that you learnt some of the facts of life.
PRINCESS. Yes, father.
KING. Now the great fact about marriage is that once you’re married you live happy ever after. All our history books affirm this.
PRINCESS. And your own experience too, darling.
KING (with dignity). Let us confine ourselves to history for the moment.
PRINCESS. Yes, father.
KING. Of course, there may be an exception here and there, which, as it were, proves the rule; just as—oh, well, never mind.
PRINCESS. Go on, darling. You were going to say that an exception here and there proves the rule that all princesses are beautiful.
KING. Well—leave that for the moment. The point is that it doesn’t matter how you marry, or who you marry, as long as you get married. Do you follow me so far?
PRINCESS. Yes, father.
KING. Well, your mother and I have a little plan—
PRINCESS. Was that it, going out of the door just now?
KING. Er—yes. It concerns your waiting maid.
PRINCESS. Darling, I have several.
KING. Only one that leaps to the eye, so to speak. The one the—well, with everything.
PRINCESS. Dulcibella?
KING. That’s the one. It is our little plan that at the first meeting she should pass herself off as the Princess—a harmless ruse, of which you will find frequent record in the history books—and allure Prince Simon to his—that is to say, bring him up to the—In other words, the wedding will take place immediately afterwards, and, as quietly as possible—well, naturally in view of the fact that your Aunt Malkin is one hundred and fifty-two; and since you will be wearing the family bridal veil—which is no doubt how the custom arose—the surprise after the ceremony will be his. Are you following me at all? Your attention seems to be wandering.
PRINCESS. I was wondering why you needed to tell me.
KING. Just a precautionary measure, in case you happened to meet the Prince or his attendant before the ceremony; in which case, of course, you would pass yourself off as the maid—
PRINCESS. A harmless ruse, of which, also, you will find frequent record in the history books.
KING. Exactly. But the occasion need not arise.
A VOICE (announcing). The woman Dulcibella!
KING. Ah! (To the PRINCESS) Now, Camilla, if you will just retire to your own apartments, I will come to you when we are ready for the actual ceremony. (He leads her out as he is talking; and as he returns calls out.) Come in, my dear! (Dulcibella comes in. She is beautiful, but dumb.) Now don’t be frightened, there is nothing to be frightened about. Has Her Majesty told you what you have to do?
DULCIBELLA. Y—yes, Your Majesty.
KING. Well now, let’s see how well you can do it. You are sitting here, we will say. (He leads her to a seat.) Now imagine that I am Prince Simon. (He curls his moustache and puts his stomach in. She giggles.) You are the beautiful Princess Camilla whom he has never seen. (She giggles again.) This is a serious moment in your life, and you will find that a giggle will not be helpful. (He goes to door.) I am announced: “His Royal Highness Prince Simon!” That’s me being announced. Remember what I said about giggling. You should have a far-away look upon the face. (She does her best.) Farther away than that. (She tries again.) No, that’s too far. You are sitting there, thinking beautiful thoughts—in maiden meditation, fancy-free, as I remember saying to Her Majesty once. . . .speaking of somebody else . . . fancy-free, but with the mouth definitely shut—that’s better. I advance and fall upon one knee. (He does so.) You extend your hand graciously—graciously, you’re not trying to push him in the face—that’s better, and I raise it to my lips—so—and I kiss it—(he kisses it warmly)—no, perhaps not so ardently as that, more like this (he kisses it again), and I say, “Your Royal Highness, this is the most—er—Your Royal Highness, I shall ever be—no—Your Royal Highness, it is the proudest—” Well, the point is that he will say it, and it will be something complimentary, and then he will take your hand in both of his, and press it to his heart. (He does so.) And then—what do you say?
DULCIBELLA. Coo!
KING No, not Coo.
DULCIBELLA. Never had anyone do that to me before.
KING. That also strikes the wrong note. What you want to say is, “Oh, Prince Simon!” . . . Say it.
DULCIBELLA (loudly). Oh, Prince Simon!
KING. No, no. You don’t need to shout until he has said “What?” two or three times. Always consider the possibility that he isn’t deaf. Softly, and giving the words a dying fall, letting them play around his head like a flight of doves.
DULCIBELLA (still a little over-loud). O-o-o-o-h, Prinsimon!
KING. Keep the idea in your mind of a flight of doves rather than the flight of panic-stricken elephants, and you will be all right. Now I’m going to get up, and you must, as it were, waft me into a seat by your side. (She stars wafting) Not rescuing a drowning man, that’s another idea altogether, useful at times, but at the moment inappropriate. Wafting. Prince Simon will put the necessary muscles into play—all you require to do is to indicate by a gracious movement of the hand the seat you require him to take. Now! (He gets up, a little stiffly, and sits next to her.) That was better. Well, here we are. Now, I think you give me a look: something, let us say, half-way between the breathless adoration of a nun and the voluptuous abandonment of a woman of the world; with an undertone of regal dignity, touched, as it were, with good comradeship. Now try that. (She gives him a vacant look of bewilderment.) Frankly, that didn’t quite get it. There was just a little something missing. An absence, as it were, of all the qualities I asked for, and in their place an odd resemblance to an unsatisfied fish. Let us try to get at it another way. Dulcibella, have you a young man of your own?
DULCIBELLA (eagerly, seizing his hand). Oo, yes, he’s ever so smart, he’s an archer, not as you might say a real archer, he works in the armoury, but old Bottlenose, you know who I mean, the Captain of the Guard, says the very next man they ever has to shoot, my Eg shall take his place, knowing Father and how it is with Eg and me, and me being maid to Her Royal Highness and can’t marry me till he’s a real soldier, but ever so loving, and funny like, the things he says, I said to him once, “Eg,” I said—
KING (getting up). I rather fancy, Dulcibella, that if you think of Eg all the time, say as little as possible, and, when thinking of Eg, see that the mouth is not more than partially open, you will do very well. I will show you where you are to sit and wait for His Royal Highness. (He leads her out. On the way he is saying) Now remember—waft—waft—not hoick.
(PRINCE SIMON wanders in from the back unannounced. He is a very ordinary-looking young man in rather dusty clothes. He gives a deep sigh of relief as he sinks into the King’s throne. . . .
CAMILLA, a new and strangely beautiful CAMILLA, comes in.)
PRINCESS (surprised). Well!
PRINCE. Oh, hallo!
PRINCESS. Ought you?
PRINCE (getting up). Do sit down, won’t you?
PRINCESS. Who are you and how did you get here?
PRINCE. Well, that’s rather a long story. Couldn’t we sit down? You could sit here if you liked, but it isn’t very comfortable.
PRINCESS. That is the King’s Throne.
PRINCE. Oh, is that what it is?
PRINCESS. Thrones are not meant to be comfortable.
PRINCE. Well, I don’t know if they’re meant to be, but they certainly aren’t.
PRINCESS. Why were you sitting on the King’s Throne, and who are you?
PRINCE. My name is Carlo.
PRINCESS. Mine is Dulcibella.
PRINCE. Good. And now couldn’t we sit down?
PRINCESS (sitting down on the long seat to the left of the throne, and, as it were, wafting him to a place next to her). You may sit here, if you like. Why are you so tired? (He sits down)
PRINCE. I’ve been taking very strenuous exercise.
PRINCESS. Is that part of the long story?
PRINCE. It is.
PRINCESS (settling herself). I love stories.
PRINCE. This isn’t a story really. You see, I’m attendant on Prince Simon, who is visiting here.
PRINCESS. Oh? I’m attendant on Her Royal Highness.
PRINCE. Then you know what he’s here for.
PRINCESS. Yes.
PRINCE. She’s very beautiful, I hear.
PRINCESS. Did you hear that? Where have you been lately?
PRINCE. Traveling in distant lands—with Prince Simon.
PRINCESS. Ah! All the same, I don’t understand. Is Prince Simon in the Palace now? The drawbridge can’t be down yet!
PRINCE. I don’t suppose it is. And what a noise it makes coming down!
PRINCESS. Isn’t it terrible?
PRINCE. I couldn’t stand it any more. I just had to get away. That’s why I’m here.
PRINCESS. But how?
PRINCE. Well, there’s only way, isn’t there? That beech tree, and then a swing and a grab for the battlements, and don’t ask me to remember it all—(He shudders)
PRINCESS. You mean you came across the moat by that beech tree?
PRINCE. Yes. I got so tried of hanging about.
PRINCESS. But it’s terribly dangerous!
PRINCE. That’s why I’m so exhausted. Nervous shock. (He lies back and breathes loudly.)
PRINCESS. Of course, it’s different for me.
PRINCE (sitting up). Say that again. I must have got it wrong.
PRINCESS. It’s different for me, because I’m used to it. Besides, I’m so much lighter.
PRINCE. You don’t mean that you—
PRINCESS. Oh yes, often.
PRINCE. And I thought I was a brave man! At least, I didn’t until five minutes ago, and now I don’t again.
PRINCESS. Oh, but you are! And I think it’s wonderful to do it straight off the first time.
PRINCE. Well, you did.
PRINCESS. Oh no, not the first time. When I was a child.
PRINCE. You mean that you crashed?
PRINCESS. Well, you only fall into the moat.
PRINCE. Only! Can you swim?
PRINCESS. Of course.
PRINCE. So you swam to the castle walls, and yelled for help, and they fished you out and walloped you. And next day you tried again. Well if that isn’t pluck—
PRINCESS. Of course I didn’t. I swam back, and did it at once; I mean, I tried again at once. It wasn’t until the third time that I actually did it. You see, I was afraid I might lose my nerve.
PRINCE. Afraid she might lose her nerve!
PRINCESS. There’s a way of getting over from this side, too; a tree grows out from the wall and you jump into another tree—I don’t think it’s quite so easy.
PRINCE. Not quite so easy. Good. You must show me.
PRINCESS. Oh, I will.
PRINCE. Perhaps it might be as well if you taught me how to swim first. I’ve often heard about swimming, but never—
PRINCESS. You can’t swim?
PRINCE. No. Don’t look so surprised. There are a lot of other things which I can’t do. I’ll tell you about them as soon as you have a couple of years to spare.
PRINCESS. You can’t swim and yet you crossed by the beech tree! And you’re ever so much heavier than I am! Now who’s brave?
PRINCE (getting up). You keep talking about how light you are. I must see if there’s anything in it. Stand up! (She stand obediently and he picks her up.) You’re right, Dulcibella. I could hold you here for ever. (Looking at her.) You’re very lovely. Do you know how lovely you are?
PRINCESS. Yes. (She laughs suddenly and happily.)
PRINCE. Why do you laugh?
PRINCESS. Aren’t you tired of holding me?
PRINCE. Frankly, yes. I exaggerated when I said I could hold you for ever. When you’ve been hanging by the arms for ten minutes over a very deep moat, wondering if it’s too late to learn how to swim—(he puts her down)—what I meant was that I should like to hold you for ever. Why did you laugh?
PRINCESS. Oh, well, it was a little private joke of mine.
PRINCE. If it comes to that, I’ve got a private joke, too. Let’s exchange them.
PRINCESS. Mine’s very private. One other woman in the whole world knows, and that’s all.
PRINCE. Mine’s just as private. One other man knows, and that’s all.
PRINCESS. What fun. I love secrets. . . . Well, here’s mine. When I was born, one of my godmothers promised that should be very beautiful.
PRINCE. How right she was.
PRINCESS. But the other one said this:
“I give you with this kiss
A wedding day surprise,
Where ignorance is bliss,
‘tis folly to be wise.”
And nobody knew what it meant. And I grew up very plain. And then, when I was about ten, I met my godmother in the forest one day. It was my tenth birthday. Nobody knows this—except you.
PRINCE. Except us.
PRINCESS. Except us. And she told me what her gift meant. It meant that I was beautiful—but everybody else was to go on being ignorant, and thinking me plain, until my wedding day. Because, she said, she didn’t want me to grow up spoilt and willful and vain, as I should have done if everybody had always been saying how beautiful I was; and the best thing in the world, she said, was to be quite sure of yourself, but not to expect admiration from other people. So ever since then my mirror has told me I’m beautiful, and everybody else thinks me ugly, and I get a lot of fun out of it.
PRINCE. Well, seeing that Dulcibella is the result, I can only say that your godmother was very, very wise.
PRINCESS. And now tell me your secret.
PRINCE. It isn’t such a pretty one. You see, Prince Simon was going to woo Princess Camilla, and he’d heard that she beautiful and haughty and imperious—all you would have been if your godmother hadn’t been so wise. And being a very ordinary-looking fellow himself, he was afraid that she wouldn’t think much of him, so he suggested to one of his attendants, a man called Carlo, of extremely attractive appearance, that he should pretend to be the Prince, and win the Princess’ hand; and then at the last moment they would change places—
PRINCESS. How would they do that?
PRINCE. The Prince was going to have been married in full armor—with his visor down.
PRINCESS (laughing happily). Oh, what fun!
PRINCE. Neat, isn’t it?
PRINCESS (laughing). Oh, very . . . very . . . very.
PRINCE. Neat, but not so terribly funny. Why do you keep laughing?
PRINCESS. Well, that’s another secret.
PRINCE. If it comes to that, I’ve got another one up my sleeve. Shall we exchange again?
PRINCESS. All right. You go first this time.
PRINCE. Very well. . . . I am not Carlo. (Standing up and speaking dramatically) I am Simon!—ow! (He sits down and rubs his leg violently.)
PRINCESS (alarmed). What is it?
PRINCE. Cramp. (In a mild voice, still rubbing) I was saying that I was Prince Simon.
PRINCESS. Shall I rub it for you? (She rubs.)
PRINCE (still hopefully). I am Simon.
PRINCESS. Is that better?
PRINCE (despairingly). I am Simon.
PRINCESS. I know.
PRINCE. How did you know?
PRINCESS. Well, you told me.
PRINCE. But oughtn’t you to swoon or something?
PRINCESS. Why? History records very similar ruses.

Assuring Assurance

Assurance of Salvation

Once saved, always saved. A lot of people aren’t sure of it. But let me tell you, if we could lose our salvation, we would back with the Jews and the law. The law has no effect on us anymore.

 Galatians 2:19-21For I through the law am dead to the law, that I might live unto God.I am crucified with Christ, nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me. And the life which I now live in the flesh, I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me. I do not frustrate the grace of God; for if righteousness come by the law, then Christ is dead in vain.”

If we were able to lose our salvation, Christ’s sacrifice would be incomplete. Christ fulfilled and completed the law, ending sacrifice. Now, by the law sin is imputed. As I said in an earlier post, your conscience is the law of Gentiles. So basically, without the law, there is no sin imputed to us, thereby, we cannot lose our salvation. So, in essence, as long as you have trusted Christ as your savior you can sin all you want. Of course, James has a lot to say about that, and naturally as a true Christian through the Holy Spirit, we want to do good and please God.

Anyway, nothing can separate us from God.

Romans 8:33-39

Who shall lay anything to the charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifieth. Who is he that condemneth? It is Christ who died, yea rather, who is risen again, who is even at the right hand of God, who also maketh intercession for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? As it is written: “For Thy sake we are killed all the day long; we are accounted as sheep for the slaughter.” Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him that loved us.For I am persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come,nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

No one can charge of us of anything, for only God justifies. If God justifies, what can destroy it? Or do you lack faith in God’s power?

The Ugly Duckling

BY A. A. MILNE

Characters

THE KING

THE QUEEN

THE PRINCESS CAMILLA

THE

DULCIBELLA

PRINCE SIMON

CARLO

The Scene is the Throne Room of the Palace; a room of many doors, or, if preferred, curtain openings: simply furnished with three thrones for Their Majesties and Her Royal Highness the PRINCESS CAMILLA—in other words, with three handsome chairs. At each side is a long seat: reserved, as it might be, for His Majesty’s Council (if any), but useful, as to-day, for other purposes. The KING is asleep on his throne with a handkerchief over his face. He is a king of any country from any storybook, in whatever costume you please. But he should be wearing his crown.

A VOICE (announcing). His Excellency the CHANCELLOR! (The CHANCELLOR, an elderly man in horn-rimmed spectacles, enters, bowing. The KING wakes up with a start and removes the handkerchief from his face.)

KING (with simple dignity). I was thinking.

CHANCELLOR (bowing). Never, Your Majesty, was greater need for thought that now.

KING. That’s what I was thinking. (He struggles into a more dignified position) Well, what is it? More trouble?

CHANCELLOR. What we might call the old trouble, Your Majesty.

KING. It’s what I was saying last night to the Queen. “Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown,” was how I put it.

CHANCELLOR. A profound and original thought, which may well go down to posterity.

KING. You mean it may go down well with posterity. I hope so. Remind me to tell you some time of another little thing I said to Her Majesty: something about a fierce light beating on a throne. Posterity would like that, too. Well, what is it?

CHANCELLOR. It is in the matter of Her Royal Highness’ wedding.

KING. Oh . . . yes.

CHANCELLOR. As Your Majesty is aware, the young Prince Simon arrives to-day to seek Her Royal Highness’ hand in marriage. He has been traveling in distant lands and, as I understand, has not—er—has not—

KING. You mean he hasn’t heard anything.

CHANCELLOR. It is a little difficult to put this tactfully, Your Majesty.

KING. Do your best, and I will tell you afterwards how you got on.

CHANCELLOR. Let me put it this way. The Prince Simon will naturally assure that Her Royal Highness has the customary—so customary as to be, in my own poor opinion, slightly monotonous—has what one might call the inevitable—so inevitable as to be, in my opinion again, almost mechanical—will assume, that she has the, as I think of it, faultily faultless, icily regular, splendidly—

KING. What you are trying to say in the fewest words possible is that my daughter is not beautiful.

CHANCELLOR. Her beauty is certainly elusive, your Majesty.

KING. It is. It has eluded you, it has eluded me, it has eluded everybody who has seen her. It even eluded the Court Painter. His last words were, “Well, I did my best.” His successor is now painting the view across the water-meadows from the West Turret. He says that his doctor has advised him to keep to landscape.

CHANCELLOR. It is unfortunate, Your Majesty, but there it is. One just cannot understand how it can have occurred.

KING. You don't think she takes after me, at all? You don’t detect a likeness?

CHANCELLOR. Most certainly not, Your Majesty.

KING. Good. . . . Your predecessor did.

CHANCELLOR. I have often wondered what happened to my predecessor.

KING. Well. . . now you know. (A small silence follows)

CHANCELLOR. Looking at the bright side, although Her Royal Highness is not, strictly speaking, beautiful—

KING. Not, truthfully speaking, beautiful—

CHANCELLOR. Yet she has great beauty of character.

KING. My dear Chancellor, we are not considering Her Royal Highness’ character, but her chances of getting married. You observe that there is a distinction.

CHANCELLOR. Yes, Your Majesty.

KING. Look at it from the suitor’s point of view. If a girl is beautiful, it is easy to assume that she has, tucked away inside her, an equally beautiful character. But it is impossible to assume that an unattractive girl, however elevated in character, has, tucked away inside her, an equally beautiful face. That is, so to speak, not where you want it—tucked away.

CHANCELLOR. Quite so, You Majesty.

KING. This doesn’t, of course, alter the fact that the Princess Camilla is quite the nicest person in the Kingdom.

CHANCELLOR (enthusiastically). She is indeed, Your Majesty. (Hurriedly.) With the exception, I need hardly say, of Your Majesty—and Her Majesty.

KING. Your exceptions are tolerated for their loyalty and condemned for their extreme fatuity.

CHANCELLOR. Thank you, You Majesty.

KING. As an adjective for your King, the word “nice” is ill-chosen. As an adjective for Her Majesty, it is—ill-chosen. (At which moment HER MAJESTY comes in. The KING rises. The CHANCELLOR puts himself at right angles.)

QUEEN (briskly). Ah. Talking about Camilla? (She sits down)

KING (returning to his throne). As always, my dear, you are right.

QUEEN (to CHANCELLOR). This fellow, Simon—What’s he like?

CHANCELLOR. Nobody has seen him, Your Majesty.

QUEEN. How old is he?

CHANCELLOR. Five-and-twenty, I understand.

QUEEN. In twenty-five years he must have been seen by somebody.

KING (to the CHANCELLOR). Just a fleeting glimpse.

CHANCELLOR. I meant, Your Majesty, that no detailed report of him has reached this country, save that he has the usual personal advantages and qualities expected of a Prince, and has been traveling in distant and dangerous lands.

QUEEN. Ah! Nothing gone wrong with his eyes? Sunstroke or anything?

CHANCELLOR. Not that I am aware of, Your Majesty. A the same time, as I was venturing to say to His Majesty, Her Royal Highness’ character and disposition are so outstandingly—

QUEEN. Stuff and nonsense. You remember what happened when we had the Tournament of Love last year.

CHANCELLOR. I was not myself present, Your Majesty. I had not them the honor of—I was abroad, and never heard the full story.

QUEEN. No; it was the other fool. They all rode up to Camilla to pay their homage—it was the first time they had seen her. The heralds blew their trumpets and announced that she would marry whichever Prince was left master of the field when all but one had been unhorsed. The trumpets were blown again, they charged enthusiastically into the fight, and— (the KING looks nonchalantly at the ceiling and whistles a few bars)—don’t do that.

KING. I’m sorry, my dear.

QUEEN (to CHANCELLOR). And what happened? They all simultaneously fell off their horses and assumed a posture of defeat.

KING. One of them was not quite so quick as the others. I was very quick. I proclaimed him the victor.

QUEEN. At the Feast of Betrothal held that night—

KING. We were all very quick.

QUEEN. The Chancellor announced that by the laws of the country the successful suitor had to pass a further test. He had to give the correct answer to a riddle.

CHANCELLOR. Such undoubtedly is the fact, Your Majesty.

KING. There are times for announcing facts, and times for looking at things in a broadminded way. Please remember that, Chancellor.

CHANCELLOR. Yes, Your Majesty.

QUEEN. I invented the riddle myself. Quite an easy one. What is it which has four legs and barks like a dog? The answer is, “A dog.”

KING (to CHANCELLOR). You see that?

CHANCELLOR. Yes, Your Majesty.

KING. It isn’t difficult.

QUEEN. He, however, seemed to find it so. He said an eagle. Then he said a serpent; a very high mountain with slippery sides; two peacocks; a moonlight night; the day after to-morrow—

KING. Nobody could accuse him of not trying.

QUEEN. I did.

KING. I should have said that nobody could fail to recognize in his attitude an appearance of doggedness.

QUEEN. Finally, he said “Death.” I nudged the King—

KING. Accepting the word “nudge” for the moment, I rubbed my ankle with one hand, clapped him on the shoulder with the other, and congratulated him on the correct answer. He disappeared under the table, and, personally, I never saw him again.

QUEEN. His body was found in the moat next morning.

CHANCELLOR. But what was he doing in the moat, Your Majesty?

KING. Bobbing about. Try not to ask needless questions.

CHANCELLOR. It all seems so strange.

QUEEN. What does?

CHANCELLOR. That Her Royal Highness, alone of all the Princesses one has ever heard of, should lack that invariable attribute of Royalty, supreme beauty.

QUEEN (to the KING). That was your Great-Aunt Malkin. She came to the christening. You know what she said.

KING. It was cryptic. Great-Aunt Malkin’s besetting weakness. She came to my christening—she was one hundred and one then, and that was fifty-one years ago. (To the CHANCELLOR.) How old would that make her?

CHANCELLOR. One hundred and fifty-two, Your Majesty.

KING (after thought). About that, yes. She promised me that when I grew up I should have all the happiness which my wife deserved. It struck me at the time—well, when I say “at the time,” I was only a week old—but it did strike me as soon as anything could strike me—I mean of that nature—well, work it out for yourself, Chancellor. It opens up a most interesting field of speculation. Though naturally I have not liked to go into it at all deeply with Her Majesty.

QUEEN. I never heard anything less cryptic. She was wishing you extreme happiness.

KING. I don’t think she was wishing me anything. However.

CHANCELLOR (to the QUEEN). But what, Your Majesty, did she wish Her Royal Highness?

QUEEN. Her other godmother—on my side—had promised her the dazzling beauty for which all the women in my family are famous—(She pauses, and the KING snaps his fingers surreptitiously in the direction of the CHANCELLOR.)

To be continued...

Pet Peeves

Okay these are just a few annoying things you should never do.

Crowd me when I am working. I get panicky. Very.

Do not disrupt my day schedule. I can get very mad.

Keep annoying people under 10 away from, because they make me violent.

Do not walk down a stairs in front of me if you are slow. I like to run down stairs.

Don’t annoy me.

 Of Solomon

Proverbs 1:23- Turn you at my reproof: Behold, I will pour out my spirit unto you; I will make known my words unto you.

Listen to wisdom. She will gladly give you knowledge and wisdom, and she will even help you understand it. The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge. All we need to do is open up.

Old Advice

Lost Advice

“This I know—if all men should take their troubles to the market to barter with their neighbors, not one when he had seen the troubles of other men but would be glad to carry his own home again.” –Herodotus 

Of Solomon

Proverbs 1:22

“How long, ye simple ones, will ye love to be simple, and the scorners delight in their scorning, and fools hate knowledge?

Why do we stay in our sinful, unwise way? Wisdom is calling us to search for her and listen to her instead of running from her. Instead of hating knowledge and wisdom we should love it. How long? 

Mission Field Fragment

A few days ago, we went to do a bible study at a nearby college which is about 20 minutes from our house in back road. Other than my dad, mom, and my brother, we were with our two staff, Paul and Bright. At the time, the weather was hot and humid after the rain the day before, so as we waited for the classes to finish for the day, we were sweating heavily.

Finally, the classes finished, and we started taking our few materials to the room. The room has no airco and was hot. My dad started out with the prayer, and then my mother game with an icebreaker. After that, Bright led the singing before Paul came to give the study.

The study was on how temptation is not a sin. Although this seems a strange topic, this is what is taught here. Also, it was on how neither God nor Satan tempts and how to resist temptation. Paul finished off with the gospel message because new students had joined the school because a new school year just started here. Several people accepted Jesus Christ, thank the Lord.

We will continue to work in that college till well who knows? 

Battle of the Giants of Light vrs Darkness: The Beginning

The land of Taran was a joyful land. No war but nonetheless swordsmanship was the highest quality and, for the most part most new how to fight well. Then the immortal night came. The deadliest foe that struck them hard, out of the mountains came foul monster and thus the land fell into darkness. Sword against sword and animal ravaged the land. Never before did humans thus fight. And with that we will take you to the land of Taran to see the fight as the darkness seeks to overcome the will of man.

“The day is unusually dark,” Coran though as he gazed out of the window in the fort’s wall. He frowned slightly as his gift came into play. A great battle was raging, or, far worse, enemies had penetrated behind line. This gift was a blessing and a curse as it was only 1 in 100 had it. It made him prized above a hundred warriors, yet it came at a great price. Though down by the enemy relentless even though he hadn’t even passed the entrance test or married. He shuddered at the last thought. He was 15 almost 16 yet at the age of 16, he would either marry and become a normal warrior; or be given the freedom to choose when he would marry and be inducted into Taran’s Warriors Guard.

The Warrior Guard was the actual striking force of Taran. Better than the average warrior, they rode to relieve ailing defenses, search out enemies behind line, and attempt to slip behind lines. As said, marriage was a necessity unless the soldier was inducted into the Warrior Guard. His mother told him constantly to stop practicing and look for a wife in case he just didn’t make the cut.

The Warrior Guard was almost like the Red Elites; only the Red Elites were under distinctive lord and also varied in armament, depending on the lord’s preferences. The Red Elites were slightly above the Warrior Guard as all lords were part of them whether they fought or not, and the Red Elites tended to be better. Like the GladeWatchers that came from the lord of the area Coran lived in. His father had been one of the head trainers and fighters in the GladeWatchers, preparing young boys from birth to fight in the GladeWatchers.

The GladeWatchers had existed before Taran had descended into blackness and were well prepared to deal with the plight. The GladeWatchers were armed with spears that doubled as javelins, granger swords, knives, whips, and bows. They fought mounted, and their whips were well known as deadly weapons. They fought in pairs of three: one javelin thrower, one whip, and one swordsman. This made a deadly combination though all GladeWatchers could use any of the four weapons as easily as he used his primary weapon. Coran had received similar training and hoped he would be inducted into them.

The reason personal bodyguards and armies had existed before the darkness was the problem of the Independent States which sat in the mountains to the east. The Independent States only existed because of the land beyond them which would naturally feel threatened by Taran and aid which ever Independent State was attacked. Of course, Taran had always been friend to Galger, an Independent State thus enabling trade beyond the mountains.

“Courage lad, fight the dark.”

Coran jumped up then felt foreboding unlike any he had felt other than the fateful day his father had died on the battlefield. He drew his Granger blade, a cross between a rapier and a long sword, very effective, if you could manage it.

“In the corner of your eye, fight!”

Coran obeyed the voice and looked in the corner of his eye sweeping the whole room till his gaze fell on a Dark man, the true opposite of man itself. Fluid flesh completely black made up the man and he almost glided across the floor toward him, a cruel curved blade drawn.

Coran realized, the only way to see the Dark man was to watch him in the corner of his eye, and thus the fight began. The Dark Man had the advantaged being free to watch Coran carefully while Coran was restricted to fighting from the side.

The blade clashed furiously as both put their skills to use, but no matter how hard Coran fought the Dark man was capable of blocking him easily. Coran began to fall back slowly and soon he was against the wall. Coran winced slightly and dived away as his blade was knocked out of his hand.

“Reach for your blade NOW!”

Coran grabbed blindly at the floor and felt the cool handle of a sword and picked it up. Before he could parry the blow he felt deep slash into his left arm. He struck our widely and felt the blade pierce the Dark man’s side. The man fell over blood gushing from his side.

Coran rose and began to run for the horse. It was useless fighting as he was. Then he noticed the fact that the sword he bear was not his own. It glowed red as if straight out the blacksmith’s shop. Then he began to feel faint and weary.

“This is going to hurt but you need it.”

Coran felt his body spasm then he faded away from this world, yet his body kept running. 

The dreaded word

Sin

Sin, I believe is underestimated and misunderstood. In my honest opinion I believe all sin is equal in God’s eyes as in that a lie is as murder. We apply that reasoning to ‘white lies’ and ‘big lies’ but why not to lies vs. murder? You remember what Samuel told Saul when he disobeyed? He said disobedience was as bad as witchcraft which was punishable by death. Take Ananias and Sapphira, a ‘simple’ lie got them dead. The prophet that went to Jeroboam was lied to and yet he was killed for disobeying what God said for him to do which was not eat or drink on his way back home.

God takes sin very seriously. Only by his longsuffering and mercy we are still alive today. A lot of people I know say God doesn’t kill people over sin, but the wages of SIN is death. The only reason people die is because of sin, so basically, God kills people. Sounds kinda harsh, but this world isn’t even our own or this body the perfect body, and this is another reason why I believe God won’t remove our salvation no matter how many sin they do. One sin is enough to warrant death so it would have to be all or nothing.

Oh and get this. Going against your conscience is sinning. It is God’s law in your heart. Romans 2:12-16.

His Plan

 His Plan for Me

Martha Snell Nicholson 

When I stand at the Judgment Seat of Christ

And He shows me His plan for me,

The plan of my life as it might have been,

Had He had His way; and I see

How I blocked Him here, and I checked Him there

And I would not yield my will,

Will there be grief in my Saviour's eyes,

Grief though He loves me still?

He would have me rich, and I stand here poor,

Stripped of all but His grace,

While memory runs like a hunted thing

Down the paths I cannot retrace.

Then my desolate heart will well nigh break

With tears that I cannot shed;

I shall cover my face with my empty hands;

I shall bow my uncrowned head.

Lord of the years that are left to me,

I give them to Thy hand;

Take me and break me, mold me to

The pattern Thou hast planned.

Its us standing in the need of prayer

Okay we all need prayer, prayer, and more prayer, and now I am asking my faithful blog addicts and non-addicts to pray for us as we continue to brave the mission field.

Of all our problems, this is one of the worst. We need dedicated people who want to serve with World of Life Ghana. Being a missionary or missionary staff is not fun or easy, but it needed. We need people, we can train that will stay faithful to the ministry.

Our club ministry goes along with staff. If we don’t have enough faithful staff, it won’t be easy. Also, we need churches that will stick with it as churches themselves eventually take it over, still using our material of course.

Our entrance to school is an important part of our ministry. If you may pray this door stays open, and that we be able to really have an impact in schools.

Another is one of our cars is having problems. We hope to change it for another car eventually in the distant future, but for now pray that it works.

Finally, we need an office. Currently, we are working out of our house which is not like having an office. Privacy invasion for one and the lack of the ability to put what we need, were we need.

Also feel free to drop me a line if you need prayer. 

Peaceable Man

Another one from Thomas a Kempis. "Of a Good Peaceable Man" This is how to live in peace.

OF a Good Peaceable Man

FIRST keep thyself in peace, and then shalt thou be able to be a peacemaker towards others. A peaceable man doth more good than a well-learned. A passionate man turneth even good into evil and easily believeth evil; a good, peaceable man converteth all things into good. He who dwelleth in peace is suspicious of none, but he who is discontented and restless is tossed with many suspicions, and is neither quiet himself nor suffereth others to be quiet. He often saith what he ought not to say, and omitteth what it were more expedient for him to do. He considereth to what duties others are bound, and neglecteth those to which he is bound himself. Therefore be zealous first over thyself, and then mayest thou righteously be zealous concerning thy neighbour.
2. Thou knowest well how to excuse and to colour thine own deeds, but thou wilt not accept the excuses of others. It would be more just to accuse thyself and excuse thy brother. If thou wilt that others bear with thee, bear thou with others. Behold how far thou art as yet from the true charity and humility which knows not how to be angry or indignant against any save self alone. It is not great thing to mingle with the good and the meek, for this is naturally pleasing to all, and every one of us willingly enjoyeth peace and liketh best those who think with us: but to be able to live peaceably with the hard and perverse, or with the disorderly, or those who oppose us, this is a great grace and a thing much to be commended and most worthy of a man.
3. There are who keep themselves in peace and keep peace also with others, and there are who neither have peace nor suffer others to have peace; they are troublesome to others, but always more troublesome to themselves. And there are who hold themselves in peace, and study to bring others unto peace; nevertheless, all our peace in this sad life lieth in humble suffering rather than in not feeling adversities. He who best knoweth how to suffer shall possess the most peace; that man is conqueror of himself and lord of the world, the friend of Christ, and the inheritor of heaven.

Swag

Only when a parent says swag or class does everyone stare at them like they have lost their mind. 

Of Solomon

Proverbs 1:20-21

 Wisdom crieth without; she uttereth her voice in the streets. She crieth in the chief places of concourse, in the openings of the gates; in the city she uttereth her words, saying,

The wisdom of God is not hidden. It is yelled far and wide by preachers and missionaries. The opening of the gates was where people gathered to do business so it was a crowded area. We have the wisdom of God right in our laps. The Bible and pray. 

Joy In Conscience

The name is self explanatory. How to get joy in a good conscience. 

The Joy of a Good Conscience

Bye Thomas a Kempis 

THE glory of a good man is the testimony of a good conscience. Therefore, keep your conscience good and you will always enjoy happiness, for a good conscience can bear a great deal and can bring joy even in the midst of adversity. But an evil conscience is ever restive and fearful.

Sweet shall be your rest if your heart does not reproach you.

Do not rejoice unless you have done well. Sinners never experience true interior joy or peace, for “there is no peace to the wicked,” says the Lord.11 Even if they say: “We are at peace, no evil 63shall befall us and no one dares to hurt us,” do not believe them; for the wrath of God will arise quickly, and their deeds will be brought to naught and their thoughts will perish.

To glory in adversity is not hard for the man who loves, for this is to glory in the cross of the Lord. But the glory given or received of men is short lived, and the glory of the world is ever companioned by sorrow. The glory of the good, however, is in their conscience and not in the lips of men, for the joy of the just is from God and in God, and their gladness is founded on truth.

The man who longs for the true, eternal glory does not care for that of time; and he who seeks passing fame or does not in his heart despise it, undoubtedly cares little for the glory of heaven.

He who minds neither praise nor blame possesses great peace of heart and, if his conscience is good, he will easily be contented and at peace.

Praise adds nothing to your holiness, nor does blame take anything from it. You are what you are, and you cannot be said to be better than you are in God’s sight. If you consider well what you are within, you will not care what men say about you. They look to appearances but God looks to the heart. They consider the deed but God weighs the motive.

It is characteristic of a humble soul always to do good and to think little of itself. It is a mark of great purity and deep faith to look for no consolation 64in created things. The man who desires no justification from without has clearly entrusted himself to God: “For not he who commendeth himself is approved,” says St. Paul, “but he whom God commendeth.”12

To walk with God interiorly, to be free from any external affection—this is the state of the inward man.

Rough and Tough

Of Solomon

Proverbs 1:18-19

And they lie in wait for their own blood; they lurk privily for their own lives. So are the ways of every one that is greedy for gain, which taketh away the life of the owners thereof.

This is simple to explain because it is so common. Sin often leads to consequences later in life. Drugs, alcohol, smoking, even stealing, come back to haunt you whether in a prison cell, or while you are dying of cancer, or out of money. Even lying will hurt you one day which is the reason God made rules. Don’t misuse your own body

History Factionary

Did you know the Rough Riders did not ride? They ran. Someone forgot to ship their horses thus they ran. And they were covered by two sharpshooter units made up of blacks. So the rough riders weren’t really that brave after all. 

Psalms 91

Okay I decide today not to do a poem but my favorite chapter. Psalms 91.

  He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress; my God, in Him will I trust.” Surely He shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler and from the noisome pestilence. He shall cover thee with His feathers, and under His wings shalt thou trust; His truth shall be thy shield and buckler. Thou shalt not be afraid of the terror by night, nor of the arrow that flieth by day, nor of the pestilence that walketh in darkness, nor of the destruction that layeth waste at noonday. A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand, but it shall not come nigh thee. Only with thine eyes shalt thou behold and see the reward of the wicked. Because thou hast made the Lord, who is my refuge, even the Most High, thy habitation, there shall no evil befall thee, neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling. For He shall give His angels charge over thee to keep thee in all thy ways. They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone. Thou shalt tread upon the lion and adder; the young lion and the dragon shalt thou trample underfoot. “Because he hath set his love upon Me, therefore will I deliver him; I will set him on high, because he hath known My name. He shall call upon Me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him. With long life will I satisfy him, and show him My salvation.”

Life and more life

Life

Life is life as usual.

Our homeschooling group is being revamped with new leadership which means much better events. Our last one was pretty interesting. It was based on the Olympics. Olympic jeopardy, athletic events etc. The next one we are doing is going to a waterfall which we finally found after looking for it for several months.

Dirt, dirt, dirt is all we see. The wind have been blowing from the Sahara and killing us. Thankfully the winds have changed a bit so we aren’t choking in dirt. Work is kicking up because of the dirt also. *sigh*

I have to do Saturdays again because alas I started late and my books need to get to America early. *sobs*

Our bosses just above us in ranking are now living in Ghana…. They are the West African zone leaders apparently… Weird.

29 push up without stopping to all yous exercising peeps, beat that. ;) Okay I don’t have a life but at least I am building raw muscle… or something like that.