Irish People are Terrifical

My sister found this pillow and took a picture of it. I find it quite humorous and excellent for my Irish roots. :)

The Smell of Burned Bacon...

The smell of burned bacon...
How horrid, how putrid, how nasty, how vile.

The windows are now open, don't worry. And I'm very glad for this dank weather that allows us to open the windows. I know other people don't like dampness in the air, but I do. It makes me feel cold and want to get under covers and read and write. I love this kind of weather.

But right now, I'm not exactly feeling cool and damp because I was just out doing unplanned manual labor. Haha! I'm not going to go into the details of said manual labor because I'm not sure how much is up for universal disclosure and how much would sound like complaining. Let it simply suffice to say that the labor was not anything meant for three women...more like six men.

Anyway, yeah, there's really nothing to write in this post. But I felt like I had to right down that little bacon ditty at the beginning. The reason why the bacon is burned is because we out doing the manual labor and were unavailable to remove the last pan of bacon. I've never seen bacon that crispy. Haha!

On the bright side of the day, Chester is once again back in our yard instead of roaming out in the world during a thunderstorm. Also, I've been reading for a good portion of the day; what I do most days now and I LOVE it! Also, my hair looks pretty good.

So, yep, that's about it. Tethered dog, good hair, good book, and burned bacon. Happy Wednesday!

Capt. Terrifical

I wonder sometimes if this is how people feel when I quote. Haha! Then again, this is sometimes how *I* feel when someone quotes...and they don't do it right. Haha! No matter, I enjoyed this picture quite a bit.

Enjoy your Tuesday. Make sure it's terrifical!

Fingerprints on My Heart

I decided I needed to write a poem. We've been reading a lot of sonnets in Brit Lit right now, and though this is no sonnet, I wanted to write a poem. It was a rush of inspiration, and a bit different than what I usually write. Still, I just wrote it, and I like it. So, I thought I'd post it and see what you guys think. Criticism is welcome but as Mark Twain said, only criticism I like. Haha! No, I'm just kidding. Any feedback is welcome.

Fingerprints on My Heart

I thought I had to do it;
It was the only way.
So, I went home,
And opened my chest.
I took my heart out,
And attached it to my sleeve.

I showed it to everyone;
I let everyone up to see.
I ask them if they'd like to hold it.
Most say no: they think I'm crazy.
A few are surprised
But hold out their hands.

I'm wary of the boys.
I give them the same offer as the girls,
But a different connotation is behind it:
More hoops to jump through,
More precautions,
More necessary boundaries.

I let the girls keep it for as long as they like.
I'm always happy
When a girl is holding it:
Makes me feel special.
It's hard to hold a heart for long.
Your hands can start to shake.

It went fine for awhile.
They shared my heart equally
And some I preferred to hold it over others.
Still, I never put it back inside.
I thought they liked it too much.
Why didn't everyone do this?

Then I found out.
Someone didn't want it anymore.
I offered it to a usual yes,
And got a no instead,
A squeamish look.
What?

Then another.
More shied away.
The novelty was gone.
More work than fun.
Even the yeses
Were for shorter periods.

Maybe you should put it back in,
They said to me.
The ones that had turned to nos.
That's not how it's done.
It's not safe either,
Was their sheer excuse.

Was it really that way?
I looked at my heart,
There like a banner to the world.
Had I not achieved a difficult state?
Had I not shown them all me?
Had I not done the bravest thing?

Suddenly, pain started.
I looked back at my heart.
What were those?
Smudges? Dark areas?
Over the flawed skin?
The pain centered from there.

I knew what bruises were,
Dime sized, oblong shapes,
All over.
When had these come?
When had the pain started?
How could I not have seen this?

Now, everywhere I went,
I received more.
It was because my heart was
Too far out, too vulnerable.
The yeses began to talk like the nos,
Encouraging me to replace my heart.

Hide it, they said.
Keep it safe,
Were their friendly words.
I agreed.
Maybe it was time.
Yes, I would do it.

It was hard,
But I took my heart down.
I took a deep breath
And went to put it in.
Panic like water.
The scar was gone.

Without the guide map of removal,
Replacement is impossible.
I'm lost. Now what?
I can't put it in.
I don't know how.
I don't remember

Tears. My heart hurts.
I can't hold it in my hands anymore,
It's too sore from the bruises.
From the nos that didn't
Treat it gently.
It is a heart after all!

I half wish I could sever it completely.
But of course,
That's just as impossible as replacement.
There's only one choice left.
With a sniff,
I put it back on my shoulder.

It still sits there,
Hanging limper than before. Still sore.
It will always be sore.
The bruises can't seem to disappear.
They held it too long.
They left their mark well.

I'm marked now.
And no one wants
To hold a damaged heart.
Only a few of the truest
Still say yes to holding on.
I'm now wary of more than just boys.

I hope the skin,
The damaged, overlapping skin
Can grow back.
I hope the scar will
Magically appear
And I can put my heart back where it belongs.

But sometimes I wonder,
Was it really ever inside?
I can't remember that far back.
Was I born abnormal?
The most vital piece of life
Born to the most defenseless place?

I'm still looking for yeses.
Though, I'm more cautious than before.
I try to see a word ahead
In any person's eyes.
A yes?
Or a no?

If it seems like a yes,
It has to be permanent.
I don't always judge right.
I have more bruises than before.
More marks of all the mistakes.
More identification of who finally said no.

Regrouping

Hey guys! I missed the last two Terrifical Tuesday posts. I just haven't been on here lately or thinking about it. So, here's a picture for today. I thought it was really cute. Hope your day is pretty!

The Excellent Emperor

The movie, Emperor, hit theaters on Friday but in limited release. Only four theaters are showing it right now in theaters close to me. For those of you who haven't heard of it, it's a film documenting the 10 day struggle of General Fellers to decide whether the Japanese emperor Hirohito should have been charged with war crimes after World War II. 

Dad, Kathryn, and I went to watch it this afternoon after church and lunch. I thought the movie was excellent. It was definitely a dialogue driven movie, which is usually not my style. It's Kathryn's. However, she was bored about half way through while I was riveted to the screen. Honestly, I thought it was captivating. Mattew Fox was polarizing as Fellers. I don't profess to be a great judge of acting, but I found him so real on camera. I could see the conflict in his eyes, the pent-up devastation, the "doing his job when he didn't want to," and the relief and acceptance of several things. 

There were multiple flashbacks in the movie, and while I found one a bit lengthy, they all served a purpose and added layers to the movie. The color of the movie was intriguing and there were certain camera angles that I found different and refreshing. I know it sounds weird for me to be talking about all of this, but I noticed things like that occasionally as I did in this movie. 

It wasn't a funny movie, or even a movie with "great lines," but it was a solid, and as far as I could tell, fairly accurate portrayal of some events during that time. I was thoroughly intrigued and look forward to watching it again. 

Avenging Terrifical Tuesday!

I don't know how people make these connections. :)