No tears
Unnamed fears
Maybe bitterness, deep
Maybe a soul asleep
Songs cycling, slow
Bleary-eyed, living low
Son caught me
Looking sad, said he
Escapes never last
Poured out, alabaster flask
Grasp Light
Hold on, tight
Light of the World
Embraced, fist curled
On garment hem
Healing, treasured Gem
Eyes of love, piercing
Enveloped, fire-lancing
Heart-drowned hope
Life-sludge rope
He’s here
There goes that fear
~
And Mary said, My soul doth magnify the Lord,
And my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour.
For he hath regarded the low estate of his handmaiden: for, behold, from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed.
For he that is mighty hath done to me great things; and holy is his name.
And his mercy is on them that fear him from generation to generation.
He hath shewed strength with his arm; he hath scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts.
He hath put down the mighty from their seats, and exalted them of low degree.
He hath filled the hungry with good things; and the rich he hath sent empty away.
He hath helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy;
As he spake to our fathers, to Abraham, and to his seed for ever.
~
But there will be no more gloom for her who was in anguish; in earlier times He treated the land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali with contempt, but later on He shall make it glorious, by the way of the sea, on the other side of Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles.
The people who walk in darkness
Will see a great light;
Those who live in a dark land,
The light will shine on them.
You shall multiply the nation,
You shall increase their gladness;
They will be glad in Your presence
As with the gladness of harvest,
As men rejoice when they divide the spoil.
For You shall break the yoke of their burden and the staff on their shoulders,
The rod of their oppressor, as at the battle of Midian.
For every boot of the booted warrior in the battle tumult,
And cloak rolled in blood, will be for burning, fuel for the fire.
For a child will be born to us, a son will be given to us;
And the government will rest on His shoulders;
And His name will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Eternal Father, Prince of Peace.
There will be no end to the increase of His government or of peace,
On the throne of David and over his kingdom,
To establish it and to uphold it with justice and righteousness
From then on and forevermore.
The zeal of the LORD of hosts will accomplish this.
~
I creepy, crawl after it. It’s there, it’s here. It’s found through the gloaming, drowning the morning, and drenching the moment. I look around a corner, catching a glimpse. I find it coming through cracks, through slats, through window panes. Blinding me, flashing out at me from mirrors, bokeh in my background, reflections framed with eyelashes. Between the pages of books, words shear out, smokey through steam rising off coffee, wavering candles, turned on, blown out, snuffed, words breathed, music sung, ink penned. I’m searching, running, walking over crunchy shorn corn-cobs in pursuit of it. Diamond-fire off water, horizon splits liquid blaze, early purple-pink eater, eyes heavenward, inky blackness drinker, eye-pilgrimage, pupils dilated, greedy. Glitter grains of poetry, silty, spilling, sinking, sucking downward, grasped, gulped, and galloped right on through to the end, straight on till morning. Flared, sparked, struck, shaft-seeking. Seep, spread, shine, sparkle, gleam, luster-laughter gatherer. Face turned, sunflower-like, baked warm. I see it, down into valleys, up, around the edges of hilltops. Hide-n-seek around birch trunks, bright on white, slanted rectangles on bare, wooden kitchen floors. The Word absorbed, an overgrown, ancient path lit, dawn through darkness, antidote to blackness, bleakness, unfolding brilliance, radiance, spirit-life cadence. Unfolding, forging, summer-haze lingering, fire fly chasing, lucent-twilight enveloping, caressing breath of wind full of it, just reach out and touch it. Wash my soot-covered body with it. Breathe the murky, blackened, griminess away. Faster then the speed of words, sounds reverberating, cutting through, soaking, drenching, shining away the dark.
Following the Light. Sooty Sojourner.
~
Hey, fellow Bibliophiles! There went November. What did you finish reading this past month? I’d love to hear!
I’m Half Sick of Shadows by Alan Bradley (***) – This is the fourth in the Flavia de Luce series and we find Flavia at Christmas time putting up with a big surprise from her father. They are in financial trouble and he hires out their historic home to a film company. Flavia, of course, always has something up her sleeve, and this time is no different, as she hatches a plan to trap Santa. After a famous actress is found dead, she is on the case. I found this book a bit predictable with a heavy dose of cheesiness.
Life Creative: Inspiration for Today’s Renaissance Mom by Wendy Speake and Kelli Stuart (*) – This book rubbed me the wrong way. You’ve been warned. Spoiler alert and long review/rant here if you are interested.
The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman (*****) – Magic realism fascinates me, but I suspect with this one, I really just love the story of justice for the little boy who’s family is murdered. The quintessential battle between “good” (as good as dead people in a graveyard can be) and “evil”. The creepy, fantastical elements make for just a simply good story to me. I really love the relationship with one of the graveyard characters, Silas and the boy, Nobody Owens. I think there is some metaphor here maybe, deeper things, but I just see it as a good story.
Ourselves by Charlotte M. Mason (*****) – This might actually be my favorite so far (I haven’t finished Formation), of Charlotte Mason’s works. I can’t articulate why yet, still mulling over it, but I absolutely loved it. I especially found Book 2 to be challenging and beautiful!
Two-Part Invention: The Story of a Marriage by Madeleine L’Engle (*****) – I can’t tell you how much I loved this book. Madeleine looks back over life, marriage, parenting, and the creative life while walking through her husband Hugh’s cancer diagnosis. Such a beautiful look at life through the lens of faith. I don’t agree with L’Engle on all elements of faith, but her refreshing outlook on God’s character really blessed me.
The Lighted Heart by Elizabeth Yates (*****) – Elizabeth Yates is probably best known as the author of Amos Fortune, Free Man, although she has written many other beautiful stories. In this lovely memoir, she walks us through her life with her husband Bill as he is going blind. I just love how she describes this from an outsider, yet close relation to someone struggling and how she tries to understand what he is going through. A beautiful story of how different a life of hardship can be if you choose the path of beauty and don’t shut out others, life, and the world around you. So very challenging and heart-warming.
Take Your Characters to Dinner: Creating the Illusion of Reality in Fiction: A Creative Writing Course by Laurel Yourke (****) – A sweet, online friend mailed this to me as a surprise! I savored it slowly and found this to be a fun way to learn how to write deep fictional characters. This is a book you can go back to over and over and work on small parts of it slowly. Very in-depth, detailed instruction on building believable people in your stories.
Dracula by Bram Stoker (****) – Over Halloween, the Bookstagram community (yes, that’s a thing) on Instagram, were digging into creepy classics, so I decided to try one. This is nothing like what you expect…no teen romances with vampires, or vampires struggling to be good and loving humans. (I haven’t read any modern vampire stories, just FYI) This is deep, creepy tale of good versus evil. Easy to read, engaging setting with gorgeous, haunting descriptions, much of this was written in the form of letters and journal entries between the main characters. I found myself tense and disturbed by the Professor and his friends having to find, track, and “kill” the un-dead, all victims of a centuries old vampire, Count Dracula. They then team up to end his generations of terror. Occasionally, I felt like parts were a bit redundant, like didn’t we just go through this exact situation, but overall, fascinating. Stoker’s use of vampire lore/legends was a bit “cheesy” at times, like garlic being a talisman against vampires etc. (An online friend mentioned that these might have originated WITH Stoker!) Overall, I found this adventurous and interesting.
On Writing: A Memoir of Craft by Stephen King (****) – Other then the excessive swearing and general crassness, I really enjoyed this book and felt like it was inspiring and practical. It wasn’t overly technical, which I appreciate. I’ve never read ANY of Mr. King’s fiction, just doesn’t seem like my cup of tea (he hates clichés, btw. Ha.), but I’m really glad I picked up this title. It makes me feel hopeful, encouraged, and gives me a place to start at with writing.
P.S. I found his attitude towards his wife refreshing and wonderful.
The King’s General by Daphne du Maurier (***) – Beautifully written, informative fictional story based on true people and events during the English Civil War. The immortality and lack of any redemptive characters was disappointing to me. Honor was intriguing, but I could never like her very much. Overall, I felt sad and disappointed at the end. A lot of the situations are probably what it WAS truly like but I was hoping for something a bit more hope-filled in the lives of the characters.
Thoughts Afield: Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter by Harold E. Kohn (****) – This took me a very long time to get through because I wanted to read the sections in the corresponding season. These were beautiful short devotionals/essays touching on humanity, faith, and nature. For the most part, I found these just so gorgeous and lovely with bits of stark beauty jumping out. A few were a bit moralistic, but overall, I loved them. I see that Mr. Kohn has a large back list and I can’t wait to read more of his quiet essays and observations.
The Buried Giant by Kazuo Ishiguro (*****) – The beginning was slow, so it took me a bit to get into this title. For me, this story asked more questions then it answered about memories, age, time, and love. It was a subtle, surprisingly powerful read for me. I really think I’m probably missing a lot in it’s vague undertones, but I came away with much to think about and ponder. I really appreciated the approachable prose, it’s beautiful, yet simple. Yet the implication of what Ishiguro writes is complex. Can’t wait to read more by this author.
The House on Foster Hill by Jaime Jo Wright (***) – Christian fiction title that I’ve been anticipating. A longer review here if you are interested, a bit of a spoiler alert.
Inkheart by Cornelia Funke (*****) – The middle dragged a bit for me, but the story was wonderful and full of delicious book-lover’s dreams, characters coming alive, real power in reading out loud, writer’s ink bringing life to characters – my oldest and I really enjoyed reading this and talking about it! We are looking forward to the other two in the series.
The Holy Bible (*****) – Hosea, Joel, Amos, Obadiah, Jonah, Micah, Nahum, Habakkuk, Zephaniah, Haggai, Zechariah, and Malachi. I just love those names, don’t you? I finished reading through for the year. However, I’ve started the Gospels again and read Matthew in November also.
Here are a few titles I forgot to include in other month recaps!
School Education by Charlotte M. Mason (*****) – I recently finished rereading this as part of my CM Book Study Group and it is so fantastic. Read here for an overview!
The Secret Life of Sarah Hollenbeck by Bethany Turner (**) – Spoiler Alert! Everything happens too fast (boom – a best friend, boom – a Christian, boom – love at first sight, boom – engaged & married. The End.) The story idea was an intriguing one, but just very little character development.
The Esther Paradigm by Sarah Monzon (***) – A modern retelling of the story of Esther. I loved the setting, detailed and richly woven life with a Bedouin clan. I liked that the romance wasn’t just physical-attraction driven, character was important. However, the romance situation was hard to swallow. Overall, this was a light, interesting read.
Mr. Write (Sundaes for Breakfast #1) by Chelsea Hale (**) – The title (not to mention the cover art) should have clued me in, what can I say? This was very predictable, eye-rolling plot, annoying, inspirational romance.
~
{First editions of L.M.Montgomery books at her Uncle John and Aunt Annie’s home which she dubbed “Silverbush” and was her inspiration for the Pat of Silverbush books}
I was so excited to visit P.E.I, Canada with my husband this year and it was a dream. All because of this lady, Maud Montgomery. It’s funny how you idolize authors that you love as a child and when you dig deep into their lives, they often aren’t all gumdrops and rose petals. That is definitely the case for Maud. She had a rough life, but it some ways, that endears her to me even more. I see how she lived and survived through her trees, island, books, characters, and writing. She wrote into her characters the darkness of true life, yet she managed to spin a bit of magic around it all, giving light and hope.
I haven’t yet read all her books, but I’ve read a fair amount and almost always, I walk away enchanted, encouraged, and ready to look at life in a new way. My recent favorite is Jane of Lantern Hill. Thank you, Mrs. Montgomery for penning beauty and light for the world to share.
I wrote here more about her! And here a poem about the enchanting P.E.I. !
~
~November 29th is C.S. Lewis’s birthday! My family and I are ever so grateful for his contribution to our family’s life and faith through ink and paper. We can never forget Narnia and are forever poking our heads into wardrobes. Higher up and further in! ~
Big things are happening in Anne’s life!
Gilbert reached across the aisle, picked up the end of Anne’s long red braid, held it out at arm’s length and said in a piercing whisper, “Carrots! Carrots!”
Then Anne looked at him with a vengeance!
She did more than look. She sprang to her feet, her bright fancies fallen into cureless ruin. She flashed one indignant glance at Gilbert from eyes whose angry spark was swiftly quenched in equally angry tears.
“You mean, hateful boy!” she exclaimed passionately. “How dare you!”
And then – Thwack! Anne had brought her slate down on Gilbert’s head and cracked it – slate, and head – clear across.
p. 111-112
“I shall never forgive Gilbert Blythe,” said Anne firmly. “And Mr. Phillips spelled my name without an e, too. The iron has entered into my soul, Diana.”
p. 113
I love that Marilla runs to Rachel Lynde, a mother of ten children, for advice to deal with Anne’s stubborn refusal about returning to school under Mr. Phillips. Rachel Lynde likes it too. 😉
I chuckled that Rachel Lynde felt the the whole of education of the Province of P.E.I. would be improved if she was at its helm! I love how Marilla breaks down laughing about Anne’s worries about hating Diana’s future husband.
October was a beautiful month at Green Gables, when the birches in the hollow turned as golden as sunshine and the maples behind the orchard were royal crimson and the wild cherry trees along the lane put on the loveliest shades of dark red and bronzy green, while the fields sunned themselves in aftermaths.
Anne revelled in the world of color about her.
p. 120
This chapter has the famous line about a ‘world without Octobers’. Swoon. I love the word “addlepated” which Marilla exasperatingly calls Anne.
Oh, dear. Raspberry Cordial.
These above photos are of L.M. Montgomery’s grave which I visited this past August. I noticed that someone had placed one of the tourist-y bottles of Raspberry Cordial at the foot of it! Oh my. Hilarious.
Anne serves the “cordial” to Diana at their tea party and goes off to be responsible hostess in the kitchen, falling into a dream-like state. Meanwhile, Diana is drinking herself into a stupor…
Mrs. Barry separates the two girls and Anne’s grief is bottomless. Chapter 16 ends with a sweet moment of compassion from Marilla.
~
Dancing with them was the best thing that happened last Tuesday.
Curls flying. Laughter. Little, slippery hands in mine.
“Faster, Mommy!” Ella said, on her tippy-toes. We circle dance, meeting in the middle like a bunch of Celtic monks, flowing in and out. It doesn’t matter if the music doesn’t exactly match our dance moves or rather our lack there of.
Loreena McKinnett sings “The Highway Man”, a haunting poem by Alfred Noyes, remember Anne reciting it in front of an admiring Gilbert in the movie version of Anne of Avonlea? My reverie about poetry ending as three year old Ben stomps on my bare toes.
“Dance, Mommy!” he hollers, daring me to stop thinking, pay attention, and just keep dancing.
Giggling, spinning, chattering, and trying to sing the eclectic ballads swirling from the “Book of Secrets” CD.
Phoebe grins her toothlessness up at me, readjusting her iron-like grip. I keep going, huffing and puffing, trying not to accidentally trip and make an even bigger fool of myself.
Collapsing, we start talking all at once, even the non-dancing, by-standing critics. “Remember the ‘Charleston’, that Jimmy Stewart did over the swimming pool?” I throw out into the fray. “Mom, you mentioned maybe learning contra dance,” Annie adds. “Let’s look up circle dances on You Tube,” one enthusiast says, “And swing like from the Glenn Miller songs from the other day.”
Eyes rapt with amazement, we watch the beauty of dance, movement, swiftness, creative precision.
It begins again, inspired and intrigued, we badly “Charleston” around, hilariously attempt Highlander jigs, float like butterflies and, well, you get the picture. We pump up the music and just let go, following a cadence of joyful footsteps dancing away the ages.
So simple, the world to them.
Shining eyes, quick breath, smiles look up and over at me. Like I hung the moon specially for them. All from a simple dance together.
~
{continuing my gratitude list}
91. Gratitude lists with my friend Marjorie via email every year, she reminds me, so grateful for the slowing down, the paying attention together
92. God’s love, we can’t even begin to fathom the depths of it
93. The fluttering children’s artwork hanging over the heat register
94. My father-in-law and his Amish coworker stopping by for hot chocolate
95. Goofy Messenger texting back and forth between me, my sisters, and my parents
96. Hugs from my 12 year old son
97. Pretty candle holder from the Dollar Store, my Phoebe buying it for me ❤
98. My brilliant green stocking cap, gray wool coat, and floral scarf, so cheerful
99. Thanksgiving feast with family today
100. Words. Blank pages. New day to live.
~
{continuing my gratitude list}
81. bananas and string cheese shared together
82. last few chapters of a good book, bittersweet
83. the ancient (alright, moldy) smell of old hard cover books
84. Lovely songs, poems, and bits of Shakespeare. We all love this CD!
85. Pilot G2 Extra Fine .05 Gel Pens…perfect scritch-y scratch-y noise when you write.
86. cinnamon and sugar toast
87. conifers, so cheerfully ever green, for the most part, anyway.
88. children crafting with recyclables
89. fluffy towels out of the dryer
90. Tacos on Tuesdays
~
…she will point to some lovely flower flower or gracious tree, not only as a beautiful work, but a beautiful thought of God, in which we may believe He finds continual pleasure, and which He is pleased to see his human children rejoice in. Such a seed of sympathy with the Divine thought sown in the heart of the child is worth many of the sermons the man may listen to hereafter, much of the ‘divinity’ he may read.
Charlotte Mason
Home Education, p. 79-80
(this quote is talking about the mother (or father, of course), what may be her role as an interpreter between her child and Nature. Miss Mason cautions that this is an infrequent or occasional thing that the mother might do reverently, probably because we can quickly become moralistic, preachy, and completely get in the way of God’s Creation and the child. I found this to be such a beautiful passage and idea, that I couldn’t not share it!)
A.M. Pine - Hearth Ridge Reflections 