Walking in Character

~~~~~~

It's odd to be able to identify an individual by their walk. It is a testament to my oddness that I can do it, and with greater and greater accuracy the longer I sit here.

The story behind this unusual talent is simple, and not odd at all. (From my perspective. Which, as we have established, is a bit skewed.)


I often sit at the upstairs circulation desk here in the library. Anytime I am on duty, I am usually to be found here. It just so happens that the chair of said desk is situated right by a big picture window looking across the street to campus, and alongside the crosswalk. There are (several) paths that meander across the patch of grass called the "South Lawn", but one is partially blocked by trees, the other by a large, unsightly, gray crosswalk. Often, as I sit here typing (German) movement across the way will catch my eye. This comes, I believe, from growing up in the country/woods and having a sizable attachment to Lois L'Amour books. They often tout the idea that being aware and keeping track of your surroundings is the best survival technique. So from a young-ish age, I consciously chose to up my observation levels. Just my opinion. Point is, I always look. Due to the placement of all the above mentioned elements, the feet are the first thing that comes into my line of sight. Then the legs and finally they pop into view around the obstruction. (Although, some of them might not like that analogy, since they would never do something as undignified as "Popping" anywhere.) So I have watched the inhabitants of this concrete box as they sped by from lunch, on the way to lunch, to the Admin building, to supper, from supper, etc, etc, etc...for the last nine months, and I have discovered I no longer have to watch to see who it is, once I have seen the feet/walk. Now admittedly there are those I don't see as often, whether they be off campus students, faculty and staff that take another route, or merely students that prefer two flights of stairs and a ramp to meandering paths through the only bit of God's green earth that is vouchsafed us here in this voluntary prison. These I can seldom identify right off the bat. But there are also those with a walk so distinctive that they could have a black garbage bag over their heads, and I could still pick them out of a crowd. The high carriage, forward driven, hands almost swinging, long choppy stepper. The hands in pocket or in control, short quick steps, head down, determined to face the world and prevail, racer. The slow, seemingly aimless, long and free steps, always heading toward a goal, head up and hands free (or holding a bible/book) intellectual.


And that is just a few. I could go on, but articulation fails me. I had never thought of this before, but you can clearly see the character of each in their walk. Is that true for everyone, or just those who have developed enough to have their personalities define and shape their mannerisms? Does the way I walk tell the world about me as a person? Can you see the decisions and choices in my mannerisms? Are we all so transparent, or just those who are comfortable enough in their "skin" to no longer put on a mask of what they think the world is expecting from them? Or perchance do I just see in their walk the characteristics I have come to know through familiarity?


And the final deep thought discussion question for today...wouldn't the world, or on a smaller scale, the Church as a whole, be a better and clearer place if we were all as transparent as these few men who have earned my highest respect by simply being who God has chosen for them to be, with no hiding or excuses?


Wow, gave myself a headache.

:)
The "South Lawn." Or part of it...

LadyAnne

He's Alive!

The Bells Are Ringing

Words by Ray Boltz, Music by Ray Boltz and Steve Millikan

The high priest would move
Through the temple
With bells around the bottom of his skirt
And as he prepared an offering there
The sound of the bells could be heard
Now there in the Holy of Holies
A sinful priest surely would die
But the sound of the bells sent a message
To all those who waited outside

CHORUS:
The bells are ringing, He's alive
Oh yes, the sacrifice is worthy
A sound that cannot be denied
The price has been paid
And as our hands are being raised
Let His holy name be praised
Tell every nation, every tribe
The bells are ringing, He's alive

Now Jesus was born the Messiah
A man sent to save other men
And scripture proclaims,
He is the high priest
Who offered Himself for our sins
And cold was the tomb
Where they laid Him
And there only silence was found
But on the third day
The stone rolled away
And the whole world
Woke up to the sound

CHORUS

Open up your heart and listen
Tell me what do you hear
It's the sound of salvation
Ringing He's alive
And there's no need to fear

CHORUS (repeat)

In every nation, in every tribe
The bells are ringing, He's alive

Coffee Flavored Cheesecake? Hmmm...

My coffee cup today. (One of three. I am a little buzzed, but I gave one away so it's ok....)

Yay Starbucks at five in the morning, Yay the Coffee Emporium, and Yay cheesecakes. All three were a raging success!

LadyAnne

The Inconceivable Hulk...

Bouquets of Sharpened Pencils

Lady Anne

Pie for Jesus

Pie Jesu
Sarah Brightman and Paul Miles Kingston
~~~
Sarah
Pie Jesu, pie Jesu, pie Jesu, pie Jesu
Qui tollis peccata mundi
Dona eis requiem, dona eis requiem

Paul
Pie Jesu, pie Jesu, pie Jesu, pie Jesu

both
Qui tollis peccata mundi
Dona eis requiem, dona eis requiem

choir
Agnus Dei, Agnus Dei, Agnus Dei, Agnus Dei

both
Qui tollis peccata mundi
Dona eis requiem, dona eis requiem

choir
Dona eis requiem

both
Sempiternam
choir
Dona eis requiem

both
Sempiternam
Sarah
Requiem

Paul
Sempiternam

Teacher Tree Training

http://www.aslpro.com/cgi-bin/aslpro/aslpro.cgi
This is a fairly good site.

~~~~~~

I submit for your inspection:

The Dogwood;

I now submit The Bradford Pear:

And this is exactly what it looked like. Therefore, I am correct in stating that the tree is a Bradford Pear. You can argue all you want, but the fact is I am right.

Bwahahaha! The great and powerful Anne triumphs again!

LadyAnne

"But people who are close to me call me 'Almighty, Magnificent Lord' "

Do not ever, ever, ever call Jesus a "dude" in my presence. And the entire "Jesus is my homeboy" movement makes my stomach revolt.

Therefore...I submit the following idea. (And yea, I know the actual lyrics aren't talking about this subject...it's more the title that expresses my thoughts on the matter. Plus it is a beautiful song.)

RUSSELL WATSON
Nothing Sacred

If a love as strong as ours
Couldn't make it all the way
Can anything make sense at all?

If a love so deep and true
Couldn't stand the test of time
Then Mount Everest could slide
And Jerusalem could fall

Is nothing sacred anymore?
Is forever just another word?
Is a promise something people used to keep
When love was worth the fighting for?
If we can say goodbye
If we can say goodbye
Is nothing sacred anymore?
If we can say goodbye
Is nothing sacred anymore?

Our love was as certain as the dawn
As solid and safe as it ever could be
Our love was a star you wish upon
And you thought that I said "you"
I could have sworn that you say "me"

Is nothing sacred anymore?
Is forever just another word?
Is a promise something people used to keep
When love was worth the fighting for?
If we can say goodbye
If we can say goodbye
Is nothing sacred anymore?

Is nothing sacred anymore?
Is forever just another word?
Is a promise something people used to keep
When love was worth the fighting for?
If we can say goodbye
If we can say goodbye
Is nothing sacred anymore?
If we can say goodbye
Is nothing sacred anymore?
Is nothing sacred anymore?

Lady Anne

Tra la la, tweedle dee dee...

When the sun in the morning peeps over the hill,
And kisses the roses 'round my window sill,
Then my heart fills with gladness when I hear the trill
Of the birds in the treetops on Mockin' Bird Hill.

Tra la la, tweedle dee dee
It gives me a thrill,
To wake up in the morning
To the mockin' bird's trill.
Tra la la tweedle dee dee
There's peace and good will;
You're welcome as the flowers
On Mockin' Bird Hill

Got a three-cornered plow and an acre to till
And a mule that I bought for a ten-dollar bill
There's a tumble-down shack and a rusty ol' mill
But it's my Home Sweet Home up on Mockin' Bird Hill.

Tra la la, tweedle dee dee
It gives me a thrill,
To wake up in the morning
To the mockin' bird's trill.
Tra la la tweedle dee dee
There's peace and good will;
You're welcome as the flowers
On Mockin' Bird Hill

When it's late in the evening I climb up the hill
And survey all my kingdom while everything's still.
Only me and the sky and an ol' whippoorwill
Singin' songs in the twilight on Mockin' Bird Hill.

Tra la la, tweedle dee dee
It gives me a thrill,
To wake up in the morning
To the mockin' bird's trill.
Tra la la tweedle dee dee
There's peace and good will;
You're welcome as the flowers
On Mockin' Bird Hill

Spring Diatribes...

Please excuse me while I rant. (And no, nothing has brought this on except I have been contemplating the meaning of life, the universe and everything. Well, Principles of Christian Life class may have helped my thoughts along a bit.)

Disclaimer: The author is not referencing any particular person, people or groups. The opinions are her own and completely open to disagreement. She is also not nearly as cynical as she sounds, this just happens to be a pet peeve of hers. The ideas and statements are not directed toward you or anyone you know. There are no situations or problems she is referencing directly. This post is purely on the philosophical/stating random ideas/soap box level. Please accept it as such and take no offence at anything you disagree with. If you have an argument, please feel free to debate. Or hit her. She doesn't promise to change her ideas or conclusions, but does guarantee you will be heard out completely. If this doesn't cover enough of the possible opportunities for affront, please assume whatever is necessary to keep her out of trouble is included herein.

Surely that isn't the way God planned it to be. Why must we complicate and degrade something that He meant for our good. There is no reason to make it harder than it has to be. A man is made for a woman and a woman is made for a man, and man and woman were made for God's glory, so why can't we just accept that and live our lives in his plan and point of view instead of our own, or the world's? And why must we look down on a woman because she isn't makin' babies? That is not what God intended the woman to "be for." Now don't misunderstand me, that is a part of who he intended us to be, but a woman is precious in God's sight as if there were no other person in the universe. Each and every one of us is the single most important person to God. In our own small and finite thought process that is not possible, and impossible to understand or comprehend, yet it is the truth the entire cosmos was based on. The "Holiness" (per se) world tends to be old fashioned in their thinking on this subject. Perhaps not intentionally or consciously, but the vibes are there non-the-less. If you are not married, a teacher, a preacher's wife, or a missionary's wife, you are of below average importance to the kingdom of God. As far as I am concerned, that is fallacy. Every christian is called to be a minister, whether they are "in the ministry" or not. We are not let of the hook because we have no call to the specific fields of preaching or missions. We are all called to be a light to the world and a disciple to the masses, or even just our one or two coworkers, or that little old lady up the street.




Now that I have rambled on for a bit, I'll switch to a lighter subject matter....


~~~~~~
The tree across the way is starting out with it's first spring blossoms. Snowy white and soft as clouds... springs imitation of winter finery... (Oh, look, now I am officially a poet. I waxed poetical about spring.) The smells of Jonquils and fresh breezes is in every breath you take. Makes me happy. I like spring. Except I miss my redbud and dogwood trees.

Now all I need is a horse to truly enjoy it to it's fullest potential.

LadyAnne

Shoes of Death

Sad results of spring-like weather; It means I can't wear my combat boots anymore. And that means I can't kick people nearly as effectively. Oh well. I can adapt. Maybe I should carry a cane-sword. I saw a really cool one in the store the other day. That would be almost as good as big boots, and would probably inflict a bit more damage. Not much but a little.

However, all this is just to say I am wearing the shoes that make me fall...so expect many painful incident updates today.

LadyAnne
~~~~~~
Quote of the Day:
I like an escalator because an escalator can never break, it can only become stairs. There would never be an "Escalator temporarily out of order" sign, only an "Escalator temporarily stairs. Sorry for the convenience." - Mitch Hedberg

Hmmm...Baby Cows?

OK, this is the oddest moment of my week. Actually, I think it may win for the whole semester so far.

I was headed up to the dorm after choir, and stepped off the elevator at the forth floor to be greeted by a strong, pungent, sickly-sweet smell from my past. It brought up a very good feeling of home and ranch and prairie and just all-around positive reminiscing. For the longest time I could not identify what it was, nor even what it reminded me of.
Then it came to me, not really like a blinding flash, more like a sun flare....
It was the exact smell of the milk/formula/mash/whatever it was called, that we used to mix up for our young cows and goat kids when they needed food supplements, or were rejected by their mothers........
In the forth floor hall of a building in the middle of a huge-ish city, miles from the nearest cow and even farther from the nearest farm or ranch. And a long way from Oklahoma. What are the odds, may I ask the mathematicians in my life? Not very high I'm guessing.
Suffice it to say it was a very surreal moment. And served to make me want to get away from the city even more.

*Sigh
~~~~~~
On the plus side, the weather is wonderful. Sunny, slight breezes, and practically balmy at 72 degrees with a high of 74. The kind of day that makes you never want to go indoors. Or that makes you want to be laying out your mother's garden. Or that makes you want to spend the entire day on horseback. Or canoeing. (How do you even spell that? I think it was another one of those words we let someone make up with no regards to phonics. OK, it's probably not from the English language, but still.) Or.....well, you get the picture.
There are birds singing all day, lizards coming out to sun on the rock wall, and squirrels everywhere.
I think we might actually have hit spring, finally. You have to say it quietly because if it hears me it may go back into hiding for a while. Up here you gotta be really careful to not startle spring . It's overly sensitive.

Now that that is completely out of my system, I'll go back to my boring, sun-deprived, nature starved life.

♪♫Cheers!♪♫
LadyAnne

In Memory Of....

The Great Charlton Heston.

http://www.cnn.com/2008/SHOWBIZ/04/06/heston.dead.ap/index.html?eref=rss_topstories

Very early in his career...
In the title role of the movie "El Cid"...
As Judah Ben-Hur, in the movie that was one of the biggest of his career...
And again... Same movie, new pose.

As Marc Antony in "Julius Caesar"

And my favorite role...As Moses in "The Ten Commandments"

As young Prince Moses...

Parting the Red Sea...

Receiving the tablets of stone...
(Which is my all-time favorite scene in any movie ever! I loved the portrayal of God writing with his "finger" of fire on the mountain wall.)

As the President of the Screen Actors Guild....

And the cutest old man since my Grandfather died!

He will be missed.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charlton_Heston

Lady Anne

Now that the cynicism has faded...Valentines Flowers!

Here are the flowers that were bought for me by various people...(No forethought involved, it was a fundraiser for the High School.)
One from Shan2, my sweetie roommate, One from Rach C. (CoffeeChica's Rommie), and one from CoffeeChica.

I don't mind roses when they aren't red. Or over-used.

~~~~~~

And this is what the universe gave Shan2 for Valentines day...

LadyAnne

You don't bring me flowers....

As most people know, I am not so into the whole bouquet craze, but a friend asked me to take some photos of her gift. So friend, here they are. Well...some of them. If you want more let me know.


Just a random one...
I like the close up, you can see all the spots of moisture and the tiny veins on the petals.
Probably one of my favorites of this session. I'm really attached to the composition of this one.

A passable one of all three. Could have been better, but the focus is interesting.

~~~~~~
And, for those of you who don't know it, the lyrics of the song this post is titled after...
(Well, some of them.)
♫♪♫♪♫♪♫
Neil Diamond (Duet with Barbra Streisand)
Written by: Neil Diamond, Alan Bergman and Marilyn Bergman

It used to be so natural
To talk about forever
But "used to be's" don't count anymore
They just lay on the floor
'Til we sweep them away

And baby, I remember
All the things you taught me
I learned how to laugh
And I learned how to cry
Well I learned how to love
even learned how to lie
So you'd think I could learn
How to tell you goodbye
You don't bring me flowers anymore

Well you'd think I could learn
how to tell you 'goodbye'
You don't say you need me
You don't sing me love songs
You don't bring me flowers anymore...
♫♪♫♪♫♪♫
Wow, it's kinda a depressing song, isn't it?
I always sing it "You don't bring me flowers, ever at all". (And usually at the top of my lungs...)


Lady Anne

"Equus Enlightenment"

~~~~~~

I am posting this under complete and utter duress....Just thought I should clear that up.

Feel free to bypass this post completely. Really, I promise.

~~~~~~
"Equus Enlightenment"

A horse gallops with its lungs, perseveres with its heart, and wins with its character.
~ Tessio ~

Looking back, the obsession begins in one of my earliest memories. As a child growing up in “the west” we would often have the opportunity to visit strange and unusual attractions, where the horse was always a central figure. One such occasion was Pawnee Bill’s Wild West Show. My father, being a reporter for the local radio station, was given passes for the entire family to attend. I must have been very young, because my memories are patchy and vague, with mere highlights coming clear in the fog of blurred thoughts. One is the picture of Dad interviewing an actor while I stood by, transfixed and in awe of this huge creature being held and controlled so effortlessly by a few thin pieces of leather. To my terror, the actor asked if I wanted to ride the horse. Given a choice I would have likely refused, but the decision was not left to me, as I was picked up and casually placed on top of this mountain of moving and breathing animal. While scared out of my wits for a while, the seed of horsemanship had forever been planted. Once sown it has grown prodigiously through the years.
My next clear memory of equine importance is many years down the road in my late childhood/early teen years, when our neighbors made the world changing (to me) decision to own a couple of horses. The horses were vastly different in age, breed and temperament. But my first real equine friendships were formed in the countless hours I spent in the nether regions of their pasture with that tiny, stubborn welsh pony and that tall, gentle thoroughbred/quarter horse cross. Up to that point the horse had been a creature of awe and an amazing testament to the wonders of creation, but for the first time I was able to see the nobility of the equine species. To witness and interact with the individual personalities and experience the uniqueness of fellowship that can be developed between the human and the horse. This was about the same time that I began reading the books of Dr. James Harriott. Those books were one of the most revealing moments in my life. While he never really dwells on the horse, his entire series is about the veterinary profession and the joys and frustrations involved. Up to this point, I had known that I wanted to work “with animals,” and that I wanted to focus on the horse, but this was the first time I had heard of an actual job where it would be acceptable to muck around with animals all day and it absolutely thrilled me. The horses eventually died or were sold off, and the thrill of the books has faded, but the driving goal remains, redefined and clearly out-lined.
I had made it a point to keep the study and experiences with horses fairly frequent, but as we had moved around, I hadn’t had the same close connection with a horse until my family moved to Branson, Mo. While not technically “west,” the town prides itself on being western oriented. Therefore, my employment while there naturally brought me into contact with horses once again. The first was at the outdoor theatre at the Shepherd of the Hills. In the play, there were over sixty horses used nightly. I worked in the ticket office, but my heart and thoughts were down the hill at the stables. More often than not, I was also down the hill, soaking in the environment and learning from the crusty old horsemen that ran the stables. The pecking order in our herd was very clearly laid out, with the one stallion at the top and Wayne and I on the very bottom. He always said he liked it that way, but I was never able to form any true loyalties among the horses, being viewed as the least of the herd. However, I would never trade my time there for the world. I learned more about horses in the herd and the care and upkeep of the pasture-kept horse in those two short years than I could have learned from a lifetime of books.
While in Branson I also was employed by the Dixie Stampede. Two more opposite horse operations you could hardly imagine would reside in the same area. At Dixie, the horses were kept in large box stalls, completely groomed after each performance, and fed a measured amount each day. No pasture kept, wild herd here. (Although the horses were rotated every six months to the ranch for a pasture turn out rest period.) Here they were completely reliant on the humans for every essential element. I worked in the show, rather than with the horses, but again my true self was hanging around the stables. I would come early and leave late, just to have extra time with the unique personalities that were the shows real stars. They also had a stallion, but he was not the leader of the herd, unless you count the legions of adoring fans that would crowd his stall after the shows. He was a huge black Friesian, imported years ago from Friesland, a province of the Netherlands, for this specific show. Of all the animals I have had contact with; he was the most intelligent of them all. He would open his stall door, do tricks for treats and respond when you spoke to him. The things that he alone taught me would fill an entire book.
Through the years, I have chosen to educate myself with study and experience, until the adoration and awe of my childhood has developed into an obsession and true respect for the singularly exceptional qualities that make up the equine species. More familiarity and better research has also served to evolve the indistinct objective of “working with horses” into a distinct and clear destination. Doctor of Veterinary Medicine, Equine Surgery Specialist, is now my ultimate goal. While the schooling involved is daunting, (nine years, not counting Bible School) and the end result is so far distant as to be practically inconceivable, the drive remains. The seed planted all those years ago has grown to a mature and healthy tree, whose branches spread to shadow every part of my life and whose roots infiltrate every decision made. Although I can scarcely visualize myself in the reality of my profession, I can easily see my old and retired self, living out my life on a large property populated primarily by horses. Ronald Reagan often said, “There is something about the outside of a horse that is good for the inside of a man.” And I would add “a woman.” All breeds, colors, sizes and ages, the horse in all its majesty will be a part of my life from beginning to end.

~~~~~~

My deepest apologies if you are still with me.

Please, come back another time. I promise it won't happen again.

LadyAnne

Spring, the "theme of my lays"....

Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes,
Flow gently, I'll sing thee a song in thy praise;
My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream,
Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream.

Thou stock dove whose echo resounds thro' the glen,
Ye wild whistling blackbirds in yon thorny den,
Thou green-crested lapwing, thy screaming forbear,
I charge you disturb not my slumbering Fair.

How lofty, sweet Afton, thy neighbouring hills,
Far marked with the courses of clear, winding rills;
There daily I wander as noon rises high,
My flocks and my Mary's sweet cot in my eye.

How pleasant thy banks and green valleys below,
Where, wild in the woodlands, the primroses blow;
There oft, as mild ev'ning weeps over the lea,
The sweet-scented birk shades my Mary and me.

Thy crystal stream, Afton, how lovely it glides,
And winds by the cot where my Mary resides;
How wanton thy waters her snowy feet lave,
As, gathering sweet flowerets, she stems thy clear wave.

Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes,
Flow gently, sweet River, the theme of my lays;
My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream,
Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream.

Robert Burns (1759-1796)

Necessity trumps Preference

It takes a lot of fortitude to obey when it hurts...


♪~♪~♪
LadyAnne

Take it from my hand.....

Brought to my attention by....a friend.

Unfortunately.

Lady Anne

Say Whaaa...

Ummmm.....it's forks. Silly.

LadyAnne

Awake...keep me awake....

"Awake"

A beautiful and blinding morning
The world outside begins to breathe
See clouds arriving without warning
I need you here to shelter me

And I know that only time will tell us how
To carry on without each other

So keep me awake to memorize you
Give me more time to feel this way
We can't stay like this forever
But I can have you next to me today

If I could make these moments endless
If I could stop the winds of change
If we just keep our eyes wide open
Then everything would stay the same

And I know that only time will tell me how
We'll carry on without each other

So keep me awake for every moment
Give us more time to be this way
We can't stay like this forever
But I can have you next to me today

We'll let tomorrow wait, you're here, right now, with me
All my fears just fall away, when you are all I see

We can't stay like this forever
But I have you here today

And I will remember
Oh I will remember
Remember all the love we shared today

-Josh Groban