Story Snippet #6

 So sorry it's taken so long for the second half of Chapter 3 to materialize on this blog. I'll probably have to stop putting up snippets of Going Ballistic sometime . . . or else, if and when I finish it, buying it won't be necessary cause you could read it for free off my blog. *grins and then winces* But it hasn't come to that yet. I can't very well stop in the middle of a chapter and not provide the ending. So . . . here's the rest, at long last. 

Previously:

Not that I could go anywhere, anyway. She’d given me the explicit order to remain in bed unless I needed to use the bathroom. That was fine with me. With how I felt, there was no way I was going to move around more than necessary. 

To be continued:

While Mom cleaned up the lightbulb’s remains, I stared up at the ceiling and wondered what would be the next victim of Ballistic’s destructive rampage. Whoever or whatever it was, I hoped it wouldn’t be me. I didn’t think I could bear waking up like that again and having to run down a dark hallway to--

   “Hey, Mom?”

   “Mmm-hmm?” She glanced up.

   I watched as she carefully picked up the largest shard and dropped it into a plastic bag. “Why was the hall so dark?”

   An unexpected smile curved Mom’s lips. “Because the light was off, Jimmy. Why?”

   I burrowed down into my sheet, suddenly feeling very embarrassed, now that I’d had a chance to think about my dramatic actions. “Uh, nothing,” I mumbled into my pillow. “It’s just that I couldn’t really see when I was going down the hallway.”

   I heard Mom’s light chuckle and felt her pat my back comfortingly. “It’s okay, honey. I turned it off because I hoped it would make it easier for you to sleep, without light shining through your door vent.”

   “Oh. Thanks.”

   It was getting way too hot under the sheets, so I pushed my covers off my head and peeked over the bed just in time to see Mom rise from her kneel and brush off her pants. 

   “I’m going to have to use the vacuum cleaner on the rest of this,” she told me, heading for the door. “I’ll be back.”

   I watched to make sure Mom closed the door before I relaxed into my memory foam mattress and let out a sigh of relief. If I saw Ballistic in my room again after what just happened, it would be too soon. Actually, if he ever went near me again, it would be too soon.

   By the time Mom came back, my head was pounding again and my face felt flushed. It didn’t help that the vacuum cleaner was not the quietest, and within a few minutes of listening to the constant rattling buzz, my headache had returned with a vengeance. 

   “Hey, Mom?” I asked, pushing my sheets down to my waist.

   She turned to me, lampshade in hand. “Yes, honey?”

   I twisted my neck around so that I was facing her. “My headache’s back.”

   “I’m sure it is,” Mom agreed, turning off the vacuum and coming over to me. She gently placed her hand on my neck. “Do you still feel hot, too?” When I nodded, she rose from the bed and began rearranging my sheets. “Make sure you drink enough water,” she reminded me, tilting her head in the direction of my nightstand.

   “Okay.” When she turned to leave, I suddenly felt an impulse to ask her the question that had been bothering ever since I’d poured out my complaints about Ballistic. “Mom?”

   She turned back to me. “Yes?”

   I hesitated. Now that I really thought about it, it seemed like a really silly question. One that I never would’ve doubted before Ballistic came. But I had to know. So I licked my lips and blurted out, “Mom, are you glad I’m your son?”

   She instantly walked over, sat down on my bed, and gave me a searching look. The why-would-you-ask-such-a-thing mom look. “Of course. Why would you think otherwise?”

   I squirmed under my sheets. It had been eating away at me ever since I saw the slight look of exasperation on her face when I came tearing down the hall this morning. “Well,” I murmured, heat rising in my cheeks, “I just thought-- I mean, I’m so-- silly. I know everyone else thinks I overreact about everything. I don’t know; I just wondered if . . . if you were glad to have me, instead of someone else who’s not, well, worried about everything.” 

   Mom drew a deep breath. “It is true that I don’t understand you all the time, to be honest. But honey, don’t you ever think that I don’t love you because you’re different. I love you because you are different. You are my little boy. While you do have some things you need to work on, I don’t expect you to be perfect. No one is.”

   I dropped my gaze to my bed covers. “Sure, but I feel like I’m a nuisance to you. Tell me the truth. Do you think I’m a nuisance?”

   Mom smiled at that. “Even if you are, just remember this: you’re my little nuisance. And I love you.” She leaned forward and gently pressed her lips to my burning forehead. “Now get some sleep, okay? We’ll talk more later.”

   I couldn’t stop the smile that curved my lips. “Okay. I love you, Mom.” 

   

Signed,

Martha

Road Trip

 Warning: This is going to be a long post, with lots of pictures!

   I got home from a road trip yesterday with mussed hair, tired legs, and a beautiful plethora of photos to share with you all. My, Whidbey Island, Washington, is gorgeous! I got so many amazing photos of the landscape that I had a difficult time choosing which ones I liked best. Here are a few (just kidding; it's more than a few) shots I took of the lake(s) we passed and the general scenery.

   It was also our puppy's first time in the car. She was so excited! She drooled all over in her determination to not miss anything. She kept scrambling around, looking out one window first and then the other. It took a lot of walking to drain this silly little girl of her energy.

   We visited two forts, too. Fort Casey was definitely my favorite! All those musty tunnels, stalactite-covered ceilings, and the wonderful salty breeze . . . I enjoyed it immensely. The fort looks rather intimidating on the outside, but as I was reminded, this was a military fort, so no wonder. I wonder what it was like for all those people, having to memorize their way through all those tunnels.

The huge guns. *can't imagine how to operate one of these things*

Random sights at the fort(s).

And last but certainly not least . . . the landscape and the breathtaking view of those branches of the Sound. 

Thanks for accompanying me on this virtual road trip. It was beautiful, wasn't it?

Here's one last picture that gives satisfaction at the closing of a long day.

Signed,

Martha

As the Deer

    Just today I noticed something I hadn't thought of as much. I was reading the Bible and came across Psalm 42:1, which says, As the deer pants for the water brooks, so my soul pants for You, O God. That verse struck me in a way I don't think I noticed before.

   I think deer are fascinating. Picture it. Majestic bucks, with their great antlers. The gentle doe, whose sole purpose is to care for her young with all the diligence she possesses. And young fawns, so shy and vulnerable. Wobbly legs and white spots. Hiding in the grass and waiting for its mother to return for it. Ah, but I digress. 

   We all know animals need water. Water is necessary. It's essential for life. Without it, we would die; cease to be ourselves. The mental image of a deer panting for the life-giving liquid reflects our need for the Savior . . . my soul pants for You, O God. Just as the deer needs water to live, so do we need God. Were it not for Him, we could not live. He is the one Who sustains us, keeps us whole.

There's a song, As the Deer, which goes:

As the deer panteth for the water,

So my soul longeth after Thee;

You alone are my heart's desire

And I long to worship Thee.

-----------------

Chorus:

You alone are my strength, my shield,

To You alone may my spirit yield.

You alone are my heart's desire,

And I long to worship Thee.

------------------

You're my friend

And You are my brother

Even though You are my King;

I love You more than any other,

So much more than anything.

I want You more than gold or silver,

Only You can satisfy.

You alone are the real joy giver

And the apple of my eye.

Honestly, this song is probably one of my favorite hymns. Only You can satisfy . . .

Only God can satisfy our need. He is the One who said that: "Everyone who drinks of this [normal] water will thirst again; but the water that I will give him will become in him a well of water springing up to eternal life" (John 4:13-14).

I'm sure we all know how it feels to be really thirsty. The great longing to feel cool, refreshing water slide down our throat. When we do drink water and quench our thirst, we are satisfied. But it is only temporary. We will get thirsty again and will need to drink water again . . . and again . . . and again. But those who drink of Jesus's offered spiritual water will never thirst again, for it is eternally satisfying. He is the only One who can offer this kind of life-giving water that makes a person's life eternal, should the person accept it.

". . . but the water that I will give him will become in him a well of water springing up to eternal life."

Signed,

Martha

Favorite Authors & Books #3

   Books are wonderful. And there's so many of them that it's kind of hard to choose just one favorite. So . . . I don't choose just one. I have multiple, and that means I have more recommendations to make!

   This time, instead of recommending a book or book series, I'm going to do multiple books, all by the same author, Elizabeth George Speare. 

   These books are amazing!

-The Bronze Bow 

I think you'd count it as historical fiction; it's set during the life and ministry of Jesus Christ. Which also means it's set during the time of the Roman domination. It's a really good book, and it's certainly Christian.

Sensitive content: some violence, a bit of mild romance, some intense scenes

Age recommendation: 12 or 13+

My rating: 3.5 rating

-The Sign of the Beaver

 

   This is about a young boy who has to stay at a cabin in the woods alone to keep it for his family, who haven't arrived yet. It's a great kids' book.

Sensitive content: not much (that I can recall)

Age recommendation: 9+

My rating: 4 stars

-The Witch of Blackbird Pond

 

(This is the newer cover.)

   I like this book so much! Now, in case you haven't read it and are having qualms in regard to its title, let me put your fears to rest. It's historical fiction and is set during the time period of the Puritans, back when people were pretty superstitious. While some people in the story are accused of doing it, there is no actual witchcraft in this book; it is only mentioned. (If there was, I wouldn't read it.) 

Sensitive content: mentions witchcraft (though none is used or seen), pretty mild romance

Age recommendation: 12 or 13+

My rating: 4.5 stars

I would have to say these rank among some of my top favorite books. They're really good.

Signed,

Martha

A "Cherry" Poem

   This is going to be short. I mentioned in my last post that I'd written a poem about cherry blossoms. This one is actually a haiku, a Japanese style of poem. These traditionally consist of three lines and do not have to rhyme (though I sometimes make mine rhyme anyway). The first and third phrases have five syllables, while the second line has seven syllables.  This type of poem is so fun to work with! 

As usual, no copying. Thank you!

The Stately Bride

             By Martha Abilene

Springtime's cherry tree

Adorned in a bride's attire,

Wearing most fine lace.

Waiting underneath

The broad alter of sapphire

With the utmost grace.

And soon her bridegroom

Of summer will come fetch her

To some other place.

Signed,

Martha

The "Simple Things" Tag

And now for the second tag of my blog. The "Simple Things" tag! This one looks like fun!! Alrighty, here goes!

The Rules:

1) Link back to the person who started the tag and thank them.

   I think that's Camille? Thank you very much!

2) Link back to the person who tagged you and thank them.

And that is Abby Elissa! Thanks bunches, Abby!

3) Use the graphic. Yep, I've got it right up there!

4) List five simple things that make you happy (with pictures).

Yep, coming right up!

5) Tag three people.

6) Remind everyone to be joyful with the little things!

(All of these photos except for #3 and #5 were taken by me.)

#1 Fuzzy socks! So cozy, and they get a lot of use from me!

#2 Kittens! Yes, I'm a cat-lover! There's few things that make me as happy as babies do. And that includes baby cats, of course! And yes, these cuties in the picture were ours for a time.

#3 Books! Books, books, books! I think one of the most beautiful sights is a cozy library filled with giant bookcases laden with great works of literature, complete with stuffed armchairs and maybe a window seat. Oh, and that pretty, old-fashioned lamp over there. 

#4 Cherry Blossoms! I think there is few sights in spring prettier than an drive lined by cheery trees all dressed up in their delicate wedding gowns. (I even wrote a poem about it. Hmm, maybe I should put that up sometime?)

#5 Baby booties! Seriously, how many things do you know of that are sweeter than seeing newborn baby feet? And the wee little booties/sockies that cover them are just precious. They're so small!

   As I was writing down my answers for this tag, I kept changing my mind . . . because as it turns out, there are so many "little things" to be thankful for! I had a rather hard time deciding which ones I wanted to include. It's impossible to place a limit of five on all the blessings God has given us! It isn't until we stop and take time to actually look that we see that all those "little things" we take for granted are more meaningful than we realize! 

   And now for the tagging! I'm not sure who all has already done this tag, so if I tag you and you have already done it, feel free to ignore this . . . unless you want to do it again! There's never a shortage of our "little" blessings!

I tag Kassie, and . . . and . . . my goodness, I don't know who else hasn't done this tag yet. So . . I tag anyone else who would like to do it! I don't know who you are, but you do, so here you go; you're tagged!

Wow, that was a lot of fun! 

Signed,

Martha

Story Snippet #5

   Going Ballistic is back! I've been working on it some more and enjoying it immensely. This is so fun to write! And my goodness, I did not expect it to be getting so dramatic. But it is, and I must say, it's been giving me plenty of laughable material. Hope you like it as much as I do!

To refresh your memory of what happened last, go to Story Snippet #4!

And now: 

Chapter Three

 I’ve never run as fast as I did in the next five seconds. I tore the monkey away from my neck, threw him onto the ground, and raced for the door, another desperate plea on my lips. “Help! Mom, Mom, Mom!” Flinging open the door, I stumbled blindly down the dark hallway. The shadows leapt out from their corners and seemed to smother me. I slowed my pace for just a second, wrinkling my brow in perplexity. Why on earth was it so dark?

    Hearing another monkey squeak from behind gave wings to my feet. Forgetting all about the fact that I could hardly see, I tore down the hall and into the kitchen, wailing. “Mo-om!” 

   Mom leapt up from where she sat lounging on the couch. “Good gracious, Jimmy! What on earth is wrong now?”

   “Balli-llistic,” I babbled, tumbling onto the couch next to her. “He’s after me!”

   Mom’s faint look of amusement was replaced by mild irritation when the monkey popped out of the hall, screeching. Emm had a firm hold on his tail and was trying to get him to calm down.

   “Emm, what are you doing?”

   Emm shot Mom a frustrated look. “Ballistic got away from me! I was trying to peek in at Jimmy to see if he was okay. I didn’t know Ballistic snuck in!”

   I curled up into a tight ball and glared at the horrible creature that had ruined my life. He was still squirming to get out of my little sister’s grasp. If looks could kill, Ballistic would have been dead within a millisecond. 

   Mom reached down and grabbed the monkey by the arm. Ignoring his vehement protests, she snatched him up and started down the hall with Emm trailing her.

   My muscles slowly began to relax, now that the imminent danger was past. I scooted up against the arm rest and laid my head against it. It was then that I realized how badly I’d been shaking. My whole body was quaking, and I felt as if someone had taken a hammer to my head. Tears sprang to my ears, but I stubbornly swiped them away. Don’t go crying like a baby.

    Within a minute, Mom was back. She settled herself on the cushion next to me and began to massage my back. “You okay?”

   “No,” I mumbled, turning my face away. I wanted to throw my arms around her neck and cry like I used to, but doing so would make me feel even worse. It would make me feel like I couldn’t handle my own emotions. 

   You can’t handle your own emotions, a small voice nagged me. I gritted my teeth and squeezed my eyelids shut. I felt the warm pressure of my mother’s hand on my arm.

   “Jimmy?”

   Finally I couldn’t take it anymore. I jerked upright and faced Mom. “I can’t do it.”

   “What, honey?”

   “I can’t get along with Ballistic. I’d rather die before welcoming such a horrid creature into our house. Not that I won’t die anyway, with how I’m feeling right now.” I half-expected Mom to scold me for having such a negative attitude, but she just smiled and wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

   “Jimmy, I’m not expecting you to love him right away. I’ll admit I am not too comfortable with the idea of having a monkey in the house, either. But your father thinks it’s all right, and just look how happy Emm is. Ballistic hasn’t ruined anything yet--”

   Except for my precious sleep . . oh, and that lamp that was on my nightstand, I remembered in dismay.

   “--and there is a chance he won’t. While this is certainly very strange, I don’t think it will be too terrible for us. Just try to get along with him for Emm’s sake, okay?”

   When I nodded, she gave me a one-armed hug. “Good. Now, let’s take a look at you. Running around like the house is on fire isn’t recommended for a person with a fever.”

   Mom was definitely right about that. My whole body ached, and a dull pain suddenly emerged from the depths of my brain and decided it was a great time to grace me with its presence. I hadn’t felt this terrible since the day I tried out a friend’s skateboard and had ended up nose diving into a cement slab. 

   Mom pressed the back of her hand against my forehead and clucked her tongue. “Well, you aren’t any better. Did you sleep at all?”

   “I had been.”

   She blew out a low sigh and rose from her seat. “Alright, back to bed with you. And this time, I’ll personally see to it that you aren’t disturbed.”

  

 A few minutes later, I found myself falling gratefully back into my jumbled mass of sheets. 

   Mom began to set the room to rights, fixing my sheets, adjusting the air conditioning, and making sure I had a tall glass of cool water within arm’s reach. She heaved a disappointed sigh when she saw my poor lamp. Crouching down, she examined it for any real damage. “So much for Ballistic not having ruined anything yet.”

   “Broken?” I asked.

   Mom nodded. “Just the light bulb, though. The lampshade is still fine. You stay right there; I’m going to clean up the shards.”

   Not that I could go anywhere, anyway. She’d given me the explicit order to remain in bed unless I needed to use the bathroom. That was fine with me. With how I felt, there was no way I was going to move around more than necessary. 

Signed,

Martha