Sunny days.

Mission Adventure

On Monday, Mommy, Timmy, Joshua, and I visited the Mission San Luis Rey. The mission's lofty, yet calming, white walls stood tall and grand, contrasting sharply with the blue sky. On top of this building, a stately figure—presumably the mission's namesake, King Louis—oversaw the mission, closely monitoring whoever entered. To the Indians who gathered here over 200 years ago, it must have seemed like heaven itself. We, however, were too distracted to notice these things. The moment we arrived, we sprang out of the car and raced to the entrance. We had arrived at 3:45; the mission closed in only fifteen minutes. Thankfully, however, we were allowed in.

Reed-weaved pots, acorns and grinding stones, grass skirts—the pre-mission Indian exhibit, the one we saw first, was, admittedly, kind of boring. (Perhaps I've just seen too many Indian exhibitions over the years [or the Indians didn't really do much].) We passed quickly through this exhibit.

Entering the next room, I felt like I had just been sucked into the past: the bed, a wooden case strung together merely with ropes, was positioned to one side; a lantern hung just above the bed, ready in case of an emergency during the night; a prayer kneeler (which looked rather like a desk with its back and side panels removed) bowed before a crucifix placed directly above it. The room seemed ready and eagerly waiting for its master's return; unfortunately for the poor room, it didn't seem like any masters were planning on arriving any time soon. We decided to leave the room to its vain dreaming.

The following two rooms I honestly found rather dull. The first had what the priests would make (candles and yarn from the livestock in the area) and the next, what they ate (the livestock). Because the remaining rooms of the main building were still unfinished, we went by them quickly and headed toward the exit.

Exiting the main building, we were ushered into a quaint little garden. The garden, beautiful and full of life, was a relief from the musty indoors. Two fountains steadily gurgled, reminiscing with each other about the days when the friar and his priest would come and sit by them. A time-worn staircase ran up a side of the building, urging us to climb; unfortunately, a "staff only" sign compelled us to refrain. Nearby hung a well-rung bell (it was crumbling apart), which Mommy couldn't resist testing its condition (yup, still working). The garden was delightful; I was sorry when we had to leave.

Pulling open a door on one of the walls enclosing the garden, Mommy led us into the next room: the chapel. We went directly to a side room. Images of Mary adorned all three walls (the fourth was the door, obviously) with candles and more prayer kneelers standing reverently before each one. In between each altar was a reconciliation room—actually, more like a prison chamber—where a guilt-ridden sinner would confess his many offenses before a listening priest. And yet, even indoors with candles burning throughout the building, the adobe chapel was much colder than the garden had been; there was a perpetual breeze throughout the chapel. Leaving this chilling chamber behind, we exited by a door adjacent to the Mary altars.

The chapel led straight to the graveyard. Hundreds of tombs lined up before us. The some of the more recent graves were decorated with cheery flowers in remembrance of loved ones; others were not so well cared for; even their tombstones—which were to be as a testimony of the deceased—were decaying. A deathly-cold statue stood with her arms spread out, becoming us to join those sleeping underneath us. This ode to death was, to be certain, rather unsettling; we raced out the graveyard (being careful, of course, to avoid stepping on the graves and being grossed out for the rest of the day).

Having left the graveyard, we proceeded down a lush, grassy hill to the lavanderia. The lavanderia was rather like the public sink where the Indians and missionaries could wash their clothes, bathe, draw out water for drinking, and, in general, socialize. Today, however, the lavanderia didn't seem quite as suitable for such things; indeed, it was dry except for a small, mosquito-infected puddle on one side. Several of the mosquitoes—angry at us for invading their property (humans these days!) —bit Joshua on the leg. Needless to say, Joshua got rather irritated as well and began swatting back at those fiends. The mission had been wonderful and calming; needless to say, Joshua—as well as the rest of us—were tired and happy when we went home.

The USS Midway and the San Diego Maritime Museum

On Thursday, Mommy, Timmy, Joshua, and I went down to San Diego to visit a retired aircraft carrier-turned-museum—the USS Midway. The inside of this massive vessel closely resembled a maze; tight corridors branched out in infinite directions, bound to make any unsuspecting visitor completely lost. I wouldn't be surprised if, somewhere deep in that labyrinth of a ship, a marine—who hadn't been informed the carrier was out of commission—was still working. Another thing about these corridors was the staircases. In an attempt to cram as much stuff in the ship as possible (not to mention increase the chances of slipping and dieing a horrible death), the stairs were all about five inches wide and declining at a sharp angle. Not very well thought out. And yet, despite the uncomfortableness of the ship, the marines had had some pleasures. A store sold goodies and rented movies to interested sailors. Each group of marines had its own room for viewing the movies they rented, sitting on the chairs while eating their goodies, re-viewing the movies, or just hanging out (all the rooms only had one screen with a bunch of chairs in-front of it). At the end of the trip, I was left feeling a greater appreciation for all American soldiers everywhere.



We next visited the Star of India, a beautifully-carved, 19th century cargo ship. Unlike the Midway, the designers of this vessel seemed to have actually cared about the ship's appearance: the doors displayed gently-curving designs, the walls furnished with daring paintings, and the white sails fluttered in the wind, eager for the next voyage. This splendor, however, ended as soon as we reached the hull. Thick ropes slung all along the walls, boards rotting with age, smells of rotting food wafting throughout—these were the things which greeted us as we walked down. Down below was a small, outhouse-like bathroom which seemed too small to adequately serve its purpose. Although the Star of India had been skillfully made, the effects of age had eroded away its glory. I was glad when we left that vessel.



Adjacent to the Star of India floated the HMS Surprise. From the outside, it resembled the previous ship; from the inside, it was completely different. Being a warship, the Surprise was supplied with four or five canons, aimed and ready to fire at some unseen enemies. The vessel itself was used as a movie set a couple of years ago; hence, the wheel near the bow was fake, while the real one was hidden away below the deck. This arrangement allowed a real captain to steer the boat while letting the actor does whatever stupid things he wanted to do. There wasn't much to see on this ship.



Unlike the previous two ships, the next vessels we went on—the B-29 and the USS Dolphin—were not ships but submarines. In all honesty, the first vessel, the B-29, seemed more like the inside of a toaster than something for transporting people. Lining the walls and roof were exposed tubes and wires; I needed to watch where I stepped to avoid hitting one. In addition, the entrances, barely big enough for even one person to pass through, were frighteningly small. As if this weren't enough, the designers lit the rooms with an eerie, yellow glow, perhaps in an attempt to constantly terrify the sailors and therefore keep them active at their posts. Near the end of the boat were the sailors' bunks—or, at least, what seemed to be the bunks. Each bunk consisted of a cold, metal rim interwoven with a lattice of springs (I can see why all crew members on a submarine cut off all their hair). And then, on top of these death traps was spread out a single blanket made from something like gray felt. I was glad to leave the B-29; I'm sure all the crew members had felt the same.



Compared to the B-29, the USS Dolphin, our next stop, was like a luxury liner: the couches and bunks had thick, cozy cushions (for the record, the Russian submarine didn't have a single couch [those Russians!]); the walls were wide and allowed an easier passage; the lighting, bright and natural, made the whole boat seem comfortable and livable. There was even a small kitchen, which gave the whole vessel a relaxed, homely feeling. Also, happily for Timmy, the periscope, even though out of commission, was in working shape (we were able to look out on the San Diego harbor and see people walking by). We passed through this vessel very quickly because Mommy was getting tired and wanted to speed on through. All in all, I was very pleased with the USS Dolphin—especially after being in that Russian sub!

The Puppet Song

Sometime last November, I wanted to write something to commemorate what had happened to me in those last few months.

I wanted it to be a poem or a song; but I'm not a poet, and this isn't any kind of poem or song with rhyme or rhythm or anything like that.

I call it "The Puppet Song". I know, I know, it's a bit strange.
But it means two things:

1. Submission. To allow oneself to be like a puppet is to renounce any claim or control over self. A giving up of self and self will. In this case, it is a very, very happy thing. Because the one I am submitting to is a good Master.

2. I am being made different. God is changing me to be more like Him (though sometimes it is scary), and it's strange and wonderful to be different. I want to do right, I want to make Him happy, I want to know Him. This is totally different than it was before.

Dance, dance, dance
I am a puppet on Your strings
Dance, dance, dance

At one time I lived for myself
and I worked for my father the Devil

I would try to break off my own arms
and I would throw myself into fire

I was blindfolded
and would run around in the dark
I wanted death to come
I tried to end my life any chance I got

At that time I lived for myself
and I worked for my father the Devil

But now You have captured me
and have caused me to see You

And now I dance
I dance for you
I am the puppet on Your strings

I belong to You now
And I do what You want me to
even when I am not aware

You are holding the strings

And You are the one who makes me dance

I want to dance forever
because You are the one holding my strings
I want to dance forever

Dance, dance, dance,
I am a puppet on Your strings
Dance, dance, dance

The things You make me do
are not part of who I used to be
I had never known these things before
They are things You make me do

And they make me want to dance for You

You are a better Master
so much of a better Master

It is better that You hold my strings
than when I did
I am a fool
And You are a Master

And it is better that I work for You
When I worked for the Devil all was dark
and I was dead

But You have made me alive
and I want to dance for You!!!

All I want is to dance for You
For the good You have done for me!!

I want to dance forever for You!
because You are the one holding my strings!
I want to dance forever for You!!
because You will never let me go!!

Dance, dance, dance,
I am a puppet on Your strings
Dance, dance, dance

Aquarium

Comic: A very blustery tract day

Weather, whether you like it or not!

(For a dyslexic, that title is very impressive.)

We've been having some SERIOUS WEATHER over here. Like, RAIN! And CLOUDS! And WIND!!
IT'S EXCITING.


On Monday we had some pretty epic rainbows:

(check it out, it's just a mini-spit of a rainbow!)

(hey look, a rainbow on the ground!! How'd that get there?)

(YAY RAINBOWS)

Yup.

We also had some very nice clouds. Some people think they're are kinda boring, but, I'm fond of clouds; so you're gonna have to tolerate them.

And it RAINED! And our HOUSE GOT WET.

Shocking, I know.

Nathaniel also got wet, but was moving far too fast for me to take a good picture.

What is it about getting kids wet that makes them go insane?


But that was nothing compared to TUESDAY. On Tuesday there was WIND!! REAL WIND. And it blew a TREE over!! A WHOLE TREE!! Can you even imagine?

(hey Bullfrog, do you have any pictures or vids of the rain to add? Please do! Our epic weather adventures of Tuesday are sorely lacking!)

Comic: Not fast enough

I'd done the dishes the night before, I swear!!

PS: that's a spider

Comic: Rockstar

Nathaniel you kidder

Santa slug

this is the Santa slug
by Joshua.

Stucco:: Bug

I decided to practicing using Depth of Field (things get blurred as the move away from the camera) and video editing. This video serves only practicing purposes, there is no "point" to this footage.

Winter Cold

Welp! It's winter again. And it seem this time we have a special surprise awaiting us, a bacteria. Yes, you would think because they're small they wouldn't hurt a fly. Well, they kill flies, and people to. Though hopefully it wouldn't have to come to that.

Comic: Rachel Pearsey visits

Horizon Living Nativity

Comic: mud house

Comic: the middle of the sea

True story.

Comic: Nathaniel

unmapping

More information: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/UV_Mapping

Comic: gnats

Comic: Buying some wood

Mom and me ended up at Home Depot (talk about fish out of water) and we needed to buy some wood.
I dunno why, but the whole thing just seemed funny to me.

And yes, my back was killing me. D:

Comic: Art FAIL

I'm a learning artist. I must often face complete and utter ART FAIL.

(Sorry Timmy! Now you have to suffer from ART FAIL too!)

Comic: How to use our new dishwasher

First: there are four to choose from cycles that can be up three hours each.

Second: there are a number of helpful "features" that can be activated.

• Push the first button if you want to get the FOOD off your dishes
• Push the second button if you want to kill the GERMS on your dishes
• Push the third if you want your dishes to actually get HOT.
• Push the fourth if you want your dishes to get dry (defective)
• And most important, push the fifth button if you don't actually want to clean dishes at ALL.

But, I am thankful that I, unlike some people I know, I actually can USE a dishwasher.

Comic: 'Ace Ventura' HATE

Hannah and me were having a late-night conversation about how absolutely horrible and crude "Ace Ventura: Pet Detective" was and how we wished one thousand times over that we'd never watched it.

Hannah also discovered that I am unable to draw an expression on a character without making that expression myself while I'm drawing. It is very embarrassing. :(

And yes, Hannah does have a slug mural on her wall.

Comic: Late night snack

Yes! It is true! My secret is out! In the middle of the night I sneak downstairs and sit on the refrigerator snacking on your food while pressing the "make the door shut up" button occasionally.

Comic: False convert??

(click to see larger)

I was passing out gospel tracts (in a neighborhood with very strange architecture, they had these things that looked like crosses on every house, but some had two bars across, so I guess not) when I noticed someone who might be a real Christian, and someone who might be a false-convert.

(If you're interested in finding out what a false convert is, why don't you check out www.livingwaters.com? Just click the button down on the right with a flower on it to find out. )

Comic: The horrors of Costco

(click to see bigger)

Last time we were at Costco, we got stuck behind a man who was 6 feet tall, weighed 600 pounds, and smelled like diarrhea. Thankfully, he only bought two bags of flavored wood-chips.
And of course, the cashier commented on our two overfull carts of food. Overfull carts of Costco food.

Nathaniel's Walk