Been grounded from the computer for two days, else I would have posted sooner.
Hope turned three on Thursday and her party was on Sunday. So she’s officially a tyrant. Two is WAY better then three. Now she’s horrid. Gah! Bioting, scratching, kicking, slapping.
Hmm. I listened to Miley Cyrus’s new album. Her voice has changed a lot, but I think it’s better. Her music is a bit more mature now, but These Four Walls was actually very good. The rest were OK, but I dunno. I’m sticking with Colbie Caillat and Taylor Swift.
Our family was going to go camping this august. Last weekend of August, up on the Mongolan Rim. It was going to be me, my mom and sisters, my grandpa, and aunt, uncle, and their five year old son. Well then I thought “Hey, let’s invite Taylor’s family.” So we did, all seven of them. Then they invited another family. All good, no?
Well…. unless you consider the fact that it now bumps the head count up to 23 people as opposed to the intended 7. That’s fifteen kids under the age of thirteen and only eight adults. I feel bad for my aunt and uncle who never heard of fifteen on these people, but especially for my Grandpa who doesn’t like to camp with a lot of people. It might be fun, but, um…. let’s just say there are going to be eight kids who can’t entertain themselves and a few of them can’t even talk. Hope and Nash are not going to get along so great. *swallows* if we seperate the older kids from the younger ones it might be better, but still.
Meh. That’s all the thoughts for today.
As Emmaline had suspected, Lexi was there. Riding the horse- what had she called her?- Persuasion. She was very good, both of them graceful and skilled. Emmaline sat down on a bench and watched her quietly, wondering what she would say. “I’m terrified of people, I’ve been having a terrible day, and I can’t play the guitar. I thought I’d come out here and mostly likely see you and then get very nervous and miserable?”
Just then Lexi dismounted and went to lead her horse to her stall. Emmaline was sitting on the bench right next to it and started to scramble away. Lexi saw her and smiled broadly. “Hey!” she said happily. “I thought you’d come, but it’s been weeks and weeks since you’ve been here. Didn’t you say you came a lot?” She opened the door and let her horse in, taking off the saddle.
“No, I didn’t say that. Just that I came when Megs got upset.”
“Oh, yeah. Your cousin, right? Thought that’s what I remembered.” she moved on to remove the reins.
“Mm.” Emmaline was silent, her worry getting the best of her. She had no idea what to say, so decided that if there was going to be conversation Lexi would have to start it.
She did not. For several moments there was no sound. Then Lexi asked, “Hey, would you take a brush and start on Persuasion’s mane? I’m working on her tail.”
Surprised, Emmaline took the brush and began to hesitantly brush her. “W-w-why’d you name her Persuasion?” she asked, stammering.
“When I was about twelve I wanted to get a horse. Mum and Dad finally agreed and took me to pick one out. When I got to looking at horses I saw two I liked, a white mare and a grey mare. Dad liked the white one best because she was smaller and had a sweeter temper, but the grey one kept at me, staring at me with those big dark eyes. I went over to pet them and she rubbed her nose up against me. I told dad ‘she’s persuaded me.’ And there you have it. We got her and named her Persuasion.”
“She’s pretty.” Emmaline whispered, rubbing her nose and feeling a bit more comfortable. “How old is she?”
“About six years old. Still kind of young.” Lexi shivered. “Cold out. Aren’t you chilled? I’m here in a couple of layers and a jacket and you’ve just got a sweatshirt and jeans.”
“No. I’m used to it. I’ve got too much long hair to get cold.” She glanced enviously at Lexi’s hair, a perfect pixie cut. She hated her hair, thick, curly, and brown. It didn’t fall beautifully like the other girl’s.
“It’s great!” Lexi enthused. “I always wanted curly hair.”
“You did? I hate it!” Emmaline exclaimed. “You can never do anything with it, and it’s all unmanageable!”
Each surprised at her outburst, they stared at each other. Then Lexi began to giggle.
“What?” Emmaline asked, still embarrased.
Laughter was contagious. Unsure as she was about why they were laughing, Emmaline felt herself grinning too.
Lexi seemed genuinely nice. Maybe with her Emmaline’s life could brighten a little.
I went to my Grandmother’s house yesterday while my parents were at the homeschool convention, and we thought we’d ride the horse Jellybean. (those of us that think jellybean is an undignified name for a male horse call him JB.) Hope, who has always been scared of him, announced that “I will ride Jawlybee.” And she did. I climbed on and we put her up on in front of me, and she loved it. We let her get on by herself (bareback, mind) and my grandmother took off the lead rope and let her ride around the corral. He started trotting once but she held on tight and laughed.
I, however, was in shorts. While riding bareback in shorts with no shoes on is very comfortable and free-feeling to both you and the horse, I got covered in horse hair. Plus, well, I’m kind of small. So no matter how hard I kicked, clucked, and yelled at him, he did not move until my grandmother shoved him in the right direction while I pulled on the rein and kicked with the opposite foot. He eventually walked a bit, but in the end I just dismounted and we locked him up in the corral again. He’s really fat and his hooves are cracking because of all the weight, so he can only be let out from nine to about six in the pastures with all that grass. Other then that he has to stay in the corral where he won’t eat nonstop. He opened the barn door and got into all the grain, so my grandmother had to give him a cup of corn oil to make it go down easier. Poor horse, I hate slimy stuff and oil is about as slimy as it can get.
But I love him. My grandmother wants to start boarding horses again, as two acres of grass is too much for just one horse. He has an old friend who got sold along with him but to another person. The original owner might buy Rocket back then keep him at my grandmother’s house. Ever since the next-door neighbors moved out their poor half-starved evil pony, mama, and her baby foal, he’s had no one to play with.
“I’m Lexi. What’s your name?” As the rather tall girl took a step towards Emmaline, she took a step farther back. Still holding Margaret tightly, she made an odd shrugging gesture. “Emmaline.” she muttered, glancing nervously at the girl.
“I’ve never seen you before. But then I did just move her a few weeks ago. I usually come here really early every morning to ride Persuasion, but today I slept late and didn’t have time. which horse is yours?”
Emmaline was severely regretting having come here, but sat down stiffly on the fence. “I don’t have one. I just came so Megs would stop crying.” to her great dismay, the girl Lexi sat next to her, obviously intending to chat with her for quite some while. In a friendly voice, Lexi asked “Is she your sister?”
“Not really.” She felt bad. Now Lexi would think she was being rudely standoffish.
“She’s just my cousin. She likes me.”
“That’s nice.” Now the girl’s voice was sad. “I left behind all my family when I moved away from Colorado. I had a new cousin too. How old is she?”
“Eight months.” This was not fun. Lexi strongly reminded Emmaline of all the other teenage girls at school. Platinum blond and very short hair, with multiple earrings in each ear, and trendy jeans paired with a shirt that proclaimed in loud letters “Everyone loves a blue eyed girl.” She seemed nice enough, but then all the girls did at first. Then they stabbed you in the back.
“Aww. My cousin was three months when we left. His name was Jasper. So your family is visiting?”
Emmaline jumped up to go. “No. My aunt and Margaret live with my family. I have to go now, my aunt will want Margaret home.” she quickly walked away, looking anxiously over her shoulder back at Lexi.
“Goodbye!” she called. “I’ll be here every afternoon. Come and say hi!”
“I don’t think so.” Emmaline whispered. She looked to Margaret as if she was worried the baby would be hurt, and hugged her close. There would be no more trips to the horse farm.
Or she thought so. As the days dragged on, high school got worse. Whenever she came home she wished that she had a friend. But it was too dangerous. She’d had friends at school before. They were fake, just using you for their own twisted reasons. Fall grew colder, and one morning snow dusted the grown like sugar, tinting red and gold with white. The green leaves were gone, even the leaves in the rich hues of fall drifting to the ground. Walks with Margaret were plentiful, and Emmaline spent many days sitting on the front porch trying in vain to play her guitar. She had found a new piece by Jewel and worked every day on learning it. But after hitting each note wrong for three days in a row, she put her guitar away and headed towards the farm.
Emmaline was feeling distinctly out of sorts.
She came home from school with an upset mood, and it remained persistent throughout the day. She went up to her bedroom to study, but instead ended up sitting on her window seat with her face buried in her knees. Dix, the lazy orange cat, rubbed her face against her leg and purred, but she made no move to pet it. Simply sat there, until the purring stopped and Dix walked away, looking affronted and irritated. Emmaline sighed. Now the cat was turned against her too. Pulling aside her curtains, she opened the window and leaned out. The fresh air felt good on her face, a breeze playing through her hair, a tiny green leaf dancing in and out of the wind. Blue as water, the sky stretched out, puffy white clouds flocking across it like over sized sheep.
Usually Emmaline thought that clouds looked like waves, but today they were separated from each other, instead of pressed together in one endless expanse one could get lost in just by looking at.
But it did not comfort her. She pulled back from the window and shut it again, then walked to Liz’s room. Gently she rapped on the door and waited.
The sound of footsteps thudded softly and the door opened.
“Oh, Em. Hang on just a minute.” Liz stepped back into the room and came out with Margaret in her arms. The baby was wailing. “Will you take her? She likes you so much.”
Emmaline had been hoping she might be able to borrow the baby, so willingly lifted her out of Liz’s hold and cradled her. “Hello, Megs.” she smiled halfway as the baby instantly stopped crying. “How’s my little cousin today?”
“The question should be, how is my niece today?” Liz asked, pulling her into the room. “You have that look. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Emmaline avoided her gaze. But after a moment it all burst out of her. “It’s school, Liz. I hate it. Everyone there acts like I’m nobody, or they say rude things, and all the teachers are so patronizing. Even in middle school it wasn’t this bad, and then I was coming home beat up every day. I just-” she stopped talking and hugged Margaret tighter, burying her face in the baby’s hair. The smell of baby shampoo was oddly comforting. “Never mind.” she whispered. After allowing Liz to hug her for a minute, she went to the door. “Mind if I take Megs for a walk?”
“Not at all.” Liz said quietly. “She might be tired. If she falls asleep it would be good.”
“All right.” She shut the door, but her aunt opened it again. “You know I’m here anytime, Em.”
Throat constricting once more, Emmaline nodded and left.
Outside, the air was beginning to get cold. It was fall now, and so she pulled her jacket off and wrapped the baby. The cold was always welcome to her, crisp and fresh. She rocked the baby as she walked, down the street into the other neighborhoods. Whenever things got too upsetting, she walked down to the horse farm nearby. Margaret liked to look at the horses, her little eight-month-old hands reaching up towards them, making choking giggling noises as they lipped at her fingers. It wasn’t too far away, so Emmaline headed that direction. Usually at this time of day no one was there. The mornings were the most busy times. But today, as they neared the stables, a girl about her age was there. She was brushing a horse Emmaline had never seen before, a grey mare with a white sock in the front.
Slowly Emmaline backed away. She didn’t want to see people today. But now the girl had noticed her, and came over. “Hello.” she said.
Biting her lip and shifting Margaret in her arms, Emmaline nodded quickly, once. “Hello.”
This is about Disney, but is not a rant. Gasp. My friends and I are making a play. “The Stereotypical Princess.” So of course we had to watch all the Disney movies. First we watched Mulan (who will be the one princess with common sense.) And I realized… I love the music. Disney music ROCKS. Well, specifically this song.
And I have to agree with Ani Isilee- the line “And I’ll do it with my shirt on” just about made me fall off my chair laughing. Anywhoo, Mulan is fantastic. Hope is going to have to play her daughter in the play. We have a neighbor guy who might pull off Mr. Fantastic Abs but I doubt it.
Pocahontas has pretty good music… second best. Beauty and the Beast we just might have to feature in the play, it has such great music. So make that two sensible princesses. Tarzan has good music… so does Hercules. I hate the music in Snow White, Cinderella, and Sleeping Beauty. The Little Mermaid has fantastic music!!! So fun and crazy.
So this play is actually going pretty well. My neighbor does a dead-on Snow White voice, my other neighbor who is playing Sleeping Beauty looks just like her, (lucky girl) and my littlest eighbor gets to play both of the non-Disney characters, Dorothy and Little Red Riding Hood. (Both of which get kicked out of the play with loud “You’re not disney! Go away!”s.)
and I am the stepmother and witch and narrator. (Yeah, notice how they’re sticking me with the hard and/or evil roles.) In the first scene alone as Narrator I have fourteen lines while each of the five of THEM has three lines.
We’ll preform it in late October or early November, and the play is about two hours long when you add the intermission. We’re doing in my friend’s very large backyard, and there is a lot of scenery to be done. And… well, except for two outfits, we have to sew all the costumes. Yeah. Now do you understand why we’re giving ourselves three months? We might move it to late November. But it will be muy cool. (Like the bilingual twist? ;) )
This is a bit of the prologue, when she was fourteen.
Emmaline awoke to the sounds of voices. Three voices, to be exact. She frowned. Who would be visiting at six in the morning? She contemplated the ceiling fan until she was ready to go find out. Then she rubbed her eyes, sat up, and kicked her slippers aside as usual. One of the voices, her mother’s, suddenly exclaimed, “Oh, Lizbeth! I am so sorry.”
Lizbeth. Wasn’t that her mother’s sister who lived far away and never came to visit? Yanking on her yellow bathrobe, Emmaline opened her bedroom door and walked into the kitchen. Her parents were talking to a surprisingly young woman, who only appeared to be in her early twenties. She looked sad, but underneath the sadness she was incredibly pretty. She and her sister looked nothing alike. Emmaline’s mother, Tamara, was short, plain, and had dark hair and light eyes. Lizbeth was on the tall side, with the lightest blond hair and chocolate brown eyes. She was also very obviously pregnant. While she spoke to my mother quietly, she rubbed her belly nervously. “So… since now I don’t have anywhere to live, I was wondering if I could stay here until I find a house, the hotel’s just not a home. I know it’s a lot to ask….”
Tamara hugged her awkwardly. “Of course. Stay here as long as you like. You can even…” she looked at her husband. “Would you like to move in with us until the baby is born, maybe until it gets to be a little older? It’s hard to raise a baby with two parents, much less-” she saw Emmaline and broke off. “Oh. Good morning, dear. This… this is your Aunt Lizbeth.”
“Just Liz, please.” the woman said with a slight smile. “You must be Emmaline.” She looked at her for a long time, then told Tamara, “She’ll have to know.”
Resigned, her mother nodded. “Yes. Emmaline, love, Aunt Lizbeth… Liz is going to move in with us for a while. Until her baby is born. You see,”
I stared at her. “But what about Uncle-“
“No, Emmaline. He, we, are divorced now I’m on my own with just our baby.” Liz said gently. “I couldn’t raise our daughter around him, I had to-” and then she stopped talking and closed her eyes. “You’ll understand when you’re older.” Emmaline swallowed and looked down. The idea of one day being married and the next day alone made her feel alone as well. It only reminded her more of the fact that people were hurting every day. She couldn’t ignore it, no matter how hard she tried. She suddenly wished she hadn’t come to see who was talking. She could still be sleeping, unaware of one more person’s pain. When Liz looked at her, the girl’s face was blank. Emotionless. Unreadable, but strangely lost. It was always that way with Emmaline. Most people were either annoyed at her silence or were unnerved and abandoned all hopes of making friends. Usually it took a while for people to realize it, but Liz noticed right away. “I should have known.” she whispered. She put one hand on Emmaline’s shoulder. “You’re one, too, aren’t you?”
“A silent heart.” She hugged her gently and then told her mother, “I’ll go get my things.”
She left everyone in a sad and unreadable silence.