Wordless Wednesday

Photography has been a biggy lately.

-Plink.

Do You Believe In Angels?

Angels are more than celestial beings with silvery wings and golden halos. They are man's helper. Or rather, man's invisible helper.


Yesterday I listened to an Adventures in Odyssey Focus on the Family Radio Theater drama with a storyline where a man, claiming his name is Malachi, announces that he is an angel--a messenger from God himself.


John Whittaker:  "A dream? You mean we won't remember that you were here?"

Malachi:   "You'll remember, but only as a vague idea, a premonition...a foreshadowing or a distant emotion. I am your "coincidences" and your "intuition." I am the one that you glimpse out of the corner of your eye and when you turn, nothing is there."

You can listen to it for free here for a limited time, just click around to find Malachi's Message Parts 1-3.


Those episodes plucked on my heart strings so much that I listened to the song Angels by Owl City for extra effect afterward. Angels is one of my favorite songs by Adam Young. And oh, how I tried ever so hard to get the song on here for you to listen to for free this morning! You can find it at Playlist.com, however, some days it works, some days it doesn't.


I decided to post the lyrics of this special song on here though. But really, the experience is just NOT the same unless you actually listen to the song.

Wake me if you're out there!

Through the glass in my bedroom window,
In the bushes far below,
I thought I saw an unfamiliar shadow,
Among the ones I so clearly know.

I've been sleeping with the nightlight unplugged,
With a note on the rocking chair,
That says I'm dreaming of the life I once loved,

So wake me if you're out there.

Living close to the ground,
It's seventh heaven because there are angels all around,
Among my frivolous thoughts,
I believe there are beautiful things seen by the astronauts.

So wake me if you're out there!

Wake me if you're out there!

In the dust on my cellar staircase,
A pair of footprints followed me,
I saw a flicker in the fake fireplace,
Blinked again, but there was nothing to see.

I've been leaving all the windows unlocked,
With a basket by the oak tree,
'Cause I'll be picking up the acorns that fall off,
If you'll be climbing up to meet me.

Living close to the ground!
It's seventh heaven because there are angels all around,
Among my frivolous thoughts,
I believe there are beautiful things seen by the astronauts.

So wake me if you're out there!

I keep my knees black and blue 'cause they often hit the hardwood floor,
(Wake me if you're out there),
And I believe, so I'm not praying to the ceiling anymore,

I've been sleeping with the nightlight unplugged,
With a note on the rocking chair that says I'm dreaming of the life I once loved,

So wake me if you're out there.

Living close to the ground!
It's seventh heaven 'cause there are angels all around,
Among my frivolous thoughts,
I believe there are beautiful things seen by the astronauts!

The indications reveal,
(Wake me if you're out there),
That few of us realize life is quite surreal,
So if you're dying to see,
I guarantee there are angels around your vicinity!

So if you're dying to see,
I guarantee there are angels around your vicinity.

-Plink

Plink Is Going Bananananananas

I think my mind is threatening mutiny on me now. I just tried to:

1. Screw a rubbing-alcohol plastic bottle cap onto a glass jar that had a brim more than ten times wider than the cap.
2. Proceed to put the jar into the refrigerator when it needed to stay on the counter.
3. Almost dump the bottle of rubbing alcohol (still full) into the trash without any realizing it.

This is what comes from staring at a TV screen for hours.  I was watching Thor on our Blu-Ray player. Wonderful, but mind-obliterating.

DUN DA DA!
LEAVING THAT ASIDE, I PRESENT TO YOU:
THE BEST PICTURE THAT THE WORLD HAS EVER TO SEE...

...Now, the question is not "Why is Darth Vader wading in a large body of water, pouring filtered salt water into a jug with a hole in it?" Instead, it is in fact:

Um... Wait, what is the question??

Oh yes:

Why am I posting a post when I have a heap of laundry to fling onto hangers and dispense into my closet????

-Plink.

By The Way...

I have been wasting my time today reading a blog. This was no ordinary blog. This blog was the blog of Adam Young. If you don't know who Adam Young is, oh well. The only important thing you would need to know about him at the moment is that he is one of the most HILARIOUSLY GOOD blog writers ...EVER! (..okay, so maybe not 'EVER' but he makes me laugh, and that's pretty good.)

Oh, yeah, he's also the guy who wrote and sung and preformed the Itunes top song (and now the song that you will hear all over the radio) Fireflies. But based on what he writes, and the faith he believes, I can tell you now that Adam Young is just a quirky Christian who ends up making people crack up with his witty, wondering and sometimes rather goofy remarks.

This guy is a genius! A genius I say! I mean, when I first heard his songs and music and lyrics from Ocean Eyes and All things Bright and Beautiful, I already thought he was a genius, but now...now he's an even geniuser genius. If your board and want something to read, I'd recommend starting with one of his first posts Here.

One of my favorite things that he's put into one of his posts:

"...I vividly recall receiving my freshly graded final exam (slathered in red ink check marks) and cowering in primal fear as my professor climbed atop my desk and towered over me like Gandalf the Grey, bellowing YOU SHALL NOT PASS! in my face."

The time-waster,
-Plink.

When The Dog Picks Fights With Cardboard Boxes

I've been having tons of fun with my new blog.

...But don't worry, I shall still be posting on Animal Lover!

I thought this picture was pretty neat. Arlo has been quite the cardboard box killer lately. If you want further evidence check out his blog. I should probably go feed him. 

...Yup. That's a good idea. He'll start complaining at my window in a few minutes.

...Sigh...this dog o' mine. (What, does he think I'm his owner or somthin'??)

Catcha Later!

Plink/Animal Lover

Blog Number...?

Over the last couple minutes I've been board. So I made myself (another) new blog. I'm not really expecting it to get all that far, but it was fun to create. You can find it at http://www.Saladbugs.blogspot.com/. I think I'll just use it as a place to write a jumble of anything random. It won't be like a "Web Log" as this is. Instead, I suppose it will act as an outlet for whenever I feel like writing anything that doesn't necessarily make sense, but look good on paper.
...Sound like fun!
...Nerdy, but fun...

How is 2012 treating you? January has brought warmish temperatures. No frosts this year!
With a chunk of my Christmas money I bought a Yamaha Keyboard. I've been spending my time tinkering around on it and recording songs.

Nothin' else goin' on much 'round here.

I was checking out Google images for some neat pictures to use for the new blog and stumbled upon this.

Ahh...God's beautiful creation! 

Goodbye dear readers!

-Plink.

Egg

Christmas time has come and gone.


...And left me with a few stories to share!


I have just gotten back from a two-night trip to Tucson. Tamales, tortillas, beans, and pies--complete with Trader Joe's Peppermint Jojo cake pop thingys--dotted the tables and ended up in my digestion system. Ahh, Christmas! The day(s) of feasting and beating people with your awesome word-usage in Taboo.

It was a fun three days (despite the cold that I had caught). And here I am, waiting for the New Year to come! All in all, we had no calamities. Just fun and a happy time to be with family.

However, a few--ehh--humorous things occurred. Of this I shall share.

When we go to Tucson, I usually end up staying at my grandparent's house. Grammy & Poppy (dubbed this by myself and my brother) have a tidy little house (in a not-so-tidy neighborhood) and a fairly spacious back yard, which holds a tiny little guesthouse and two small sheds. A new(ish) thing in that backyard is the garden.

Oh, and the chickens.

Let's not forget the chickens, shall we?

11 (formerly 12) chickens are currently living in my grandparents backyard. They now basically have a farm in what used to be a square of dirt fenced by brick walls. These chickens, or hens, whichever you call them, are the happy-go-lucky, pleasant, and cluck-happiest egg-layers I know. And even though intelligence is not exactly as strong point on their part, their bright little eyes glitter when the cackle at whoever they think will feed them next.

Anyhow, these chickens roam 'round the wire-fenced in garden and lay eggs. Actually, these are pretty good eggs. I don't really like eggs, but the way Grammy makes those guys...Ooooh...

Cheese.

That's what makes eggs good.

Cheese.

Anyway, these chickens are now permanent residence of their backyard, and are pretty neat.

Yesterday morning, before going to see the movie Hugo (GREAT MOVIE YOU HAVE GOT TO SEE IT!) My mom & aunts were outside, talking, enjoying the nice weather, and, of course, chicken-viewing. When I came out I was promptly given an egg (to go and put in the kitchen), and I stuck it in my pocket (of my new jacket), meaning to bring it in when I went back into the house.

Ehhhhh... (Oookay, so I don't exactly think things through all that much)

I sorta got caught up in the conversation. And then I sorta forgot I had an egg in my pocket.

Oopsies.

About ten minutes later, as I was sitting in a plastic lawn chair and listening to whatever was been discussed, I felt the corner of my jacket and realized something was weird.

Why in the world was my jacket--and my shirt--and my jeans--WET???

I just sat there trying to figure out when, in the last few minutes I had been near water. Okay, so I'll be the first to tell you I spill things.

...A LOT.

I have made myself a reputation for being a messy eater.

Hey, I've improved since I was four, but CERTAIN PEOPLE will not let the joke go.

But how could I spill water on myself if I hadn't even been near water at all?? I hadn't even taken a drink, gotten near a hose, NOTHING.

What was going on?

And then I looked up. And saw that I was sitting right under the edge of the roof of the guest house.

Ummm...

But no, that's not right. It couldn't be birds (man, that would have had to be one BIG bird), and it wouldn't have been rainwater.

But wait! What's this?? It's not even water! Why, why...

IT"S STICKY!

The first thing that came to mind then was that I had somehow, someway gotten Spackle on myself. You know, Spackle, like the clear stuff you paint on wood to make it shiny. Of course, there was not a hint a Spackle anywhere as far as the eye could see, but still, it really felt like Spackle.

I was getting up to go inside and change when I noticed a small bottle of oil (like for power tools) on a table nearby. It looked a little leaky, and I had been around the area.

Great.

On my new jacket, shirt, and jeans (Christmas brought many things) I had spilled oil.

Just great.

Well here I am, in a small muck of despair, when my brother, Matthew comes out. As he walks by me, I explain briefly what happened, and he commands me to take my jacket off so that the oil doesn't ruin it as much (or somethin' like that). I did just that, but while I was taking it off, something else caught my eye. My new jacket is black. Completely black. But on the interior, it's a light gray color. As I took off my jacket the left pocket came into view from the gray side.

And there it was.

The gray had been turned to a much darker shade--obviously it was wet--but only in the very bottom corner. The top of my pocket was completely dry.

And then it hit me.

...And then I remembered the egg.

And then I got laughed at.

Ehhnn.

The gooey, sticky mess came out of the pocket, shell & all, and tossed over to where the chickens could get at it (hey they ANYTHING, so much so that they are cannibals [or cannon balls as Poppy calls it]). After the giggles had tuned down a bit, my slimy wardrobe was thrown in the wash (needless to say, I am glad that it wasn't oil). And they have since turned back to the dry side.

And I have since earned myself the nickname egg pants.

...Ho' boy...

-Plink.