PSAT

          Yesterday morning I got up at five-thirty to get ready to take the PSAT at Trinitas, a private Christian school. I started to wake up at 4:00 and woke up in intervals of thirty minutes until it was finally time to get up. I held up my phone and let the glow light the room. Jubal was sound asleep in his sleeping bag on the floor. During the night he had woken me up three times sleep talking and fussing. I crept around him and turned on the lamp. The morning went as I remember the early mornings in South Carolina when I went to a public school; just now I had a little more concern with my appearances than my nine year old self had back then. That's why there was a hurried hair washing that almost made us late. Details, details, anyways...

           Levi, back from Alaska, ate breakfast with me as he was coming along as well. As we two walked out the door Mom and Dad sent us off with well wishes. "Have a good time!" "Show those questions no mercy!" I answered "I won't!" and "Those questions aren't going to show me any mercy!" (Or something a little better than that. Just think of something clever and that is what I said.)
           I was definitely not ready for the test and was concerned about the math section; although I had no worries about the writing section. I had spent the day before studying and the day before that worrying myself and moping in my room. Levi on the other hand seemed confident with his academic ability.
           On the way there, to finish off our breakfast, we stopped at McDonald's and bought two bacon egg sausage mcgriddles in addition to one small coffee for myself. Levi and I enjoyed each others company and talked about nothings and laughed at silly old jokes from "back in the good ol' days". We often take to reminiscing with each other. It is good to have him back from Alaska. (Soon I will type up a report about all of that.) The morning was nice. A bit chilly for my taste but in reality most people would find it pleasant. When crossing over the bay I looked at the calm water and was pleased with the peachy color from the morning sun reflecting on its surface.

Mountain Paradise

Last week as I was driving a certain memory came to mind. I thought of a place we almost lived. A place that was almost home. Our almost paradise.

No, it wasn't Belize. It was up in the mountains. The mountains of South Carolina.

Imagine a beautiful log cabin built out of ceder. Our feet knocked on strong ceder trunks, hewn down out of the mountain to make a home. Almost our home. Wooden floors, wooden walls, all hand made in my young mind at the time, by a man and his family back in the pioneer days; although now I see it wasn't quite that old. Dad showed me the ladder that came down out of the ceiling. He climbed up to opened the trap door then let me in. Gingerly I climbed the steep steps and popped into a room as large as the entire cabin below. Dad told me how he would build a wall and make a bedroom for the boys and a bedroom for the girls. The room was just like out of a story. It was dusty, you could see the particles wafting through the air when they floated into the sunbeam that lit up the room. You could smell the scent of wood. A sturdy deck came out from the dining room and over looked the river that flowed swiftly by. I remember looking at the water fall and soaking up the beauty. It was exhilarating. Also I squealed to Daddy about where I could put my play kitchen.