The Social Porcupine

An entire week of being lady of the house wasn’t nearly long enough, for it was almost over, passed away in a blur of exciting activities, all of which involved Carl. Carl Bryant was just a couple years older than Peter and almost too young to have been a soldier in a war. But he was not the sort to miss the thrill of a war, and had moved to his uncle’s place in London so that he might enlist. Only mere months later, the rest of American men had taken up arms, too, coerced into the battle by the bombing at Pearl Harbor. Susan knew that Carl was proud to be one of the earlier Americans in the war. And she was proud of him, too. Especially as it was what brought him to London and how they were re-acquainted, as she already knew his uncle and aunt through other social activities. On a Saturday morning that proved to be a warm day for January, Carl pulled his automobile up to Susan’s front door and blasted his car horn with one long and loud push. Susan, already waiting for hi...

Men use brains and women are puddles of emotions. Men use brains and women are puddles of emotions. Men use brains and women are puddles of emotions. Men use brains and women are puddles of emotions. Men use brains and women are puddles of emotions. Men use brains and women are puddles of emotions. Men use brains and women are puddles of emotions . Men use brains and women are puddles of emotions. Men use brains and women are puddles of emotions. Men use brains and women are puddles of emotions. Men use brains and women are puddles of emotions. Men use brains and women are puddles of emotions. Men use brains and women are puddles of emotions. Men use brains and women are puddles of emotions. Men use brains and women are puddles of emotions. Men use brains and women are puddles of emotions. Men use brains and women are puddles of emotions. Men use brains and women are puddles of emotions. Men use brains and women are puddles of emotions. Men use brains and women are puddl...

On April 10th I looked at the calendar and was shocked to see that only a third of the month had passed. April has been looong but in all the best senses of the word.  Basically, it feels like I've lived two months of amazing life these last couple weeks. Ever have that happen to you?  Left to right: Rashida and her husband (Jack); Jack's friend, Jager; my sister, Jerushah.  One of my best friends, Rashida, came from Tennesse with her husband to visit the first week of April. That was a great way to start off the month. I took most of the week off from work, and just had too much fun. We talked and laughed and hiked and visited Glacier.   At Glacier, we stopped to visit this pretty area next to some railroad tracks. Of course, a train decided to come while we were there ... we ran away, feeling like (at least I was) crazy teenagers.  "Rashida, meet Lauren. Lauren, meet Rashida." This is what I call #friendretiring. Rashida is ...

The other day a lady I clean for had Dr. Phil on; and while I didn't hear all of it, the parts I did hear were quite ridiculous. A father said his young child needed a good whipping and Dr. Phil said, "A parent is meant to be a child's safe place. How do you think they feel if one moment you act loving and the next moment you beat them?"  Obviously, Dr. Phil doesn't  understand discipline at all.  Here are some questions I'd like to ask him: "We are supposed to be able to trust our government to protect us. But we know that also means they fine, imprison, and sometimes even execute us. Does that mean our government fails when they punish us?"  (It's beside the point that our government is often corrupt, and thus we do sometimes fear them. But we don't fear them because of them punishing us, but because their motives aren't backed by justice anymore.) "I trust my best friends to tell me the truth. That involves ba...

I do not understand people who love snow.  I do not understand why snow is considered beautiful.  Snow covers beauty. It smothers and freezes and kills.  God created a beautiful earth.  Because of our sin, the earth was cursed with a flood that consequentially messed up Earth's perfect atmosphere. And thus the Earth has ever since been put under stress by extreme heat and cold.  I believe there was no snow before the flood.  I believe snow is part of the curse.  How is that beautiful, I ask?  Snow is cold ... as cold as a broken heart, cracking the warmest sparks of hope.  Beauty is not cold.  Beauty is warm.  Beauty isn't what's on top ... it's what is real, what lies underneath.  Beauty isn't cruel. Beauty doesn't freeze your fingers.  Beauty doesn't kill you.  Yeah, snow will kill you.  But ... I guess something about us humans, is we do find beauty in the...

This is the surprise I mentioned last week . Now, please don't be sad and say, "This is ridiculous." Laughing is good to do, especially around April Fool's Day, yes? Picture taken by my sister, Jerushah. Picture taken by my sister, Jerushah.  If you remember, awhile back I posted a flash fiction on my blog called  Crazy as Poison Ivy . This story was inspired by true life events ;) Meaning ... it actually happened, I just wrote that story as fiction.  La'el is my friend, Rashida La'el. And she actually thinks this is funny. She is the only one getting a free essential oil ... sorry, these things actually cost me a bit to make, despite being a completely ridiculous joke.  Please, don't feel like you have to buy one to laugh, though. The pictures can be enjoyed in and of themselves ( I hope ).  But if you would like to support a crazy artist, definitely buy yourself a fake essential oil!  These bottles are sealed and fille...

The best nights were the nights Susan slept through and never dreamed. Thankfully, the majority of her nights were such nights. But after the Pevensies broke their New Year’s Eve gathering and headed to bed, Susan’s eyes closed and she dreamed. She dreamed of battles, of evil men wishing to marry her, of a white stag that would take away everything they’d fought for and deposit them back into another world as children … Susan awoke on the morning of the first, shaking with unresolved emotions. She shouldn’t be sad. She reminded herself, “None of it was real. None of it.” Sunlight poured in from her frosted window and played on her coverlet. She closed her eyes and remembered seeing Aslan’s face last night in the mirror Lucy had given her. Had Lucy been playing a trick on her? Susan knew it was no trick, but her imagination messing with her. She opened her eyes to forget how real Aslan had seemed, to see the real world. Just as it had always been, it was harder to forget As...