The other morning we had hoar frost on all the trees. I was taking the dog back outside after having her in all night (because of the cold), and I ended up wandering around in 8 degree weather taking pictures. It was so beautiful. More pictures are bound to show up here eventually.

I've always known your song.
I've heard it in the darkness.
Its notes have echoed in my heart
Till I memorized every broken part,
And I have cried with you
When its sad notes faltered,
When your feet lost their footing,
And your soul began to wander.
I tried to call you back to me,
Singing your song from memory,
But though I know it too well,
It is still your song, not mine.
A reflection of beauty is
Only just a reflection,
And my voice could never sing
The song that's full of your soul.
Dear one, sing your heart.
I am listening to the silence
With open ears, if only for a whisper
- A broken whisper of a song
I knew when it first began.
I've always known your song.
I've heard it in the darkness,
And now I need it, love.
If you lose your music,
If you lose your soul,
I'll lose myself alone.
I've been screaming out your song
For I know it better than my own,
And now I've lost my own.
Where are you, my soul, my song?
Where are you, my sweetest note?

Christmas in Virginia

(Apologizes for the length. I probably have put more details here than you possibly wanted to know, but I like details, and I'm detail oriented...so...details, it is.)

It was in a sea of townhouses - my brother's home - that looked as though they had been plopped there side by side by side in the last ten years. The trees were short. The design very specific. They were made quickly and practically identical for rapid population growth. After all, this collection of neighborhoods made up a town outside of D.C, but was it actually a town? It was so hard to tell as one town seemlessly turned into another within a couple miles (a not-so-normal pattern in Washington State).

But it might as well have been more than a couple miles. The street on which my brother's home was located wasn't busy. It gave you the false sense of community. A few other streets nearby werent very busy, but then suddenly you were thrust into traffic one might find in Seattle, except this traffic was this busy every hour of the day. The traffic was exasperated by the somewhat lacking, driving skills of the other drivers. They all acted as if they didnt know where they were or where they were going (or they were following a GPS). Never have we been so close to getting into car accidents than we were during our time there (a total of 8 days).

My brother's townhouse was the one on the very end. We arrived in the dark. My brother had wrapped the railings on either side of the steps up to the house with Christmas lights. There was a Christmas tree all decorated. The table (which he specifically bought for our coming) was set up for dinner. He had been cleaning his house all day to prepare for us. He took the air mattress on the floor and gave us beds (also a new addition specific for our coming). I had to tell you these things because of how impressed I was ('course he stole my heart with the simple fact he had a makeshift dinner awaiting our arrival). The only thing lacking in his nice, large house was cupboard contents. He had nothing in them. One of our few outings consisted of getting lost in a large, unfamiliar store buying EVERYTHING, even measuring cups (we also went over to a thrift store and got him more silverware, plates, and mixing bowls). I wish I could say that part was a blast, but I was, lucky me, in possession of the recipes we brought along on my phone. Everyone was asking me what we needed because other than being in possession of the recipes, I also am one of the most organized in the family. I love my family, but I came so close to a panic attack later on when I briefly misplaced my wallet ('Oh crap, I just lost my I.D, and I won't be able to go home.' - Also exasperated by how tired and done I was with the day [Stores do that to me] and lack of food...).

Another brother came up from Virginia Beach the day after we arrived and stayed until the day before we left. My third brother, and the oldest, came the day before Christmas Eve with his wife and daughter and left the day after Christmas. We have never had the entire family together since my brother married his wife almost six years ago. It's an interesting thing. My eldest brother left home when I was eight-years-old to join the Marines (also interesting how all my three brothers are in the military. Two Marines and one Navy) so I've never had a real close relationship with him. Then he married my sister-in-law who is Thai (she is a wonderful cook. She doesn't like American food so she always ends up cooking whenever I've been around her. I thought maybe Thai food was my favorite after eating hers, but restaurant Thai food is nothing like hers. Kinda disappointing) which is very awesome but leaves a little awkwardness (it's not just the different cultures thing. I'm just real awkward, and I haven't been around her or my brother enough to get over myself, aka be comfortable). As soon as they said they were expecting a baby, however, that awkwardness went away. It was so completely out of the blue and happifying. I just wish we lived closer or that we could visit more often.

On Christmas Eve we went to Pohick Church which was founded in 1774. They didn't have pews. The usher led us to a family box with a door and a latch...so we faced one another. It was a very interesting experience. And awkward. The church was Episcopal which was fine, but we weren't going to stay for the part of the service with the sermon and communion because we didn't think it proper (and the Christmas Carol Service was already starting at 10:30 pm, and my poor niece was going crazy with Christmas and presents and all). The problem was they didn't have a break between the two services. We REALLY need to work on more graceful exits. Thank God we won't ever have to see those people again. Also found out later that George Washington went to the Pohick Church at one point in his life...

On the day it was 60 degrees out, we went to Leeslyvania State Park which is where Robert E. Lee's grandfather lived. It's also the place where a Confederate battery was located. It was nice walking through the forest. Although, it was rather dismal looking since I'm used to Evergreens or no trees at all.

The day after Christmas we went to Mt. Vernon. Interestingly, it isn't owned by the government, and that's why it was opened. I thought that was pretty interesting. The actual house is amazingly small...

This is looking down from Mt. Vernon at the Potomac River. On the property was also the tombs of George Washington and Mary Washington, among a few others. Also a museum my brother and mom went to look at. I hurried around the whole property with my other bro and my dad.

The gardens! I would love to come here in the Spring or Summer when things are actually alive. I wouldn't be me if I didn't dream about the gardens. They said that they did some archaeology digs to figure out what sort of things they planted in them. George Washington considered himself, first and foremost, a farmer -  a man after my own heart. His breakfast also consisted of hot chocolate and a pancake. I could get up every day to a meal like that...I mean, hot chocolate every morning!? I also took a picture of the 'necessary' (aka, outhouse). Then I went around on the other side and realized what it was...Heh.

This is much of what I saw from the plane on the way there. So much snow. Until we were a little way out from Washington D.C. Then no snow. Pretty cool. Still, after Washington's hills and mountains, I couldn't tell where we were over. I've never flown around Christmas...makes the landscape different, but man, packing everything one might need for Christmas is a pain.

We got home at 3:00 AM the day before New Year's Eve since we had to drive over the pass from Seattle. It was a little eery. For the first portion, we were in a convoy of trucks following four snowplows (we had to pass three trucks because they came to a stop going up the pass - the front one's tires were spinning in the snow), but they slowly disappeared until it was just us. Us and a very snowy road (about two or three inches on the ground). I wish it had been bright enough to take pictures out the window because those Evergreens with their branches full of fresh snow were breathtakingly majestic, and to think, there are miles and miles of those gorgeous trees.


Afterthoughts: There's a stew simmering on the stove that I just spent the last two hours putting together. The furnace is working overtime as it tries to keep the home warm. It isn't really working, but what can be helped. The place is full of cracks and terrible drafts. I have the living room to myself as the others are either sick or out clearing up the driveway from the heap of snow we received today. This is a longer Winter than the ones we've been having. Usually by the first week of January the snow is melting, but there is still more in the forecast. As I ploughed through the snow down to take care of my aunt's cats this evening, I found my usual path (even the one I packed down after last snowfall) covered with about 16 inches of snow. Other places only have 4 because of the cold and the wind and the snow's dryness.

Leeslyvania State Park, Virginia. Overlooking the Potomac River.

You signed your name
Under every scar I bore
As if they were a work of art
And not some broken part.
Funny - in a bitter way -
The song you chose to play,
Running your fingers over wounds
That healed only then
To bleed at your slicing touch.
It's my fault, I know.
I was the one who let you in.
I opened wide the door
And didnt shut myself back up
When your kisses became bruises -
It's better to be loved
By bitterness and pain
Then to be lost in loneliness -
At least that's what I said,
But my voice has become an enemy.
It's learned its ways from you.
What is the difference, really,
Between you and me?
Your faults and my faults?
I am meant to save myself,
And you are love that's lost its life.
You are a name signed beneath my scars.
You are a crime committed compassionlessly,
And I am you by a different name.



Afterthought: I'm working on a post about my holidays, but it's slow. I'm trying to catch up on everything after being gone for a week, and I haven't. It's cold (down into the single digits at night. Plus there is a wind that's harder than normal. Weather says possible -13 during the day tomorrow because of the wind chill), and the snow heaped onto us in drifts the day before yesterday. 16 inches was the highest drift I walked into. I hope all of you are having a happy new year.

Random, Rambling Thoughts of an INFJ (Part 2)

What am I doing here?

I don't know.

Sometimes, most times, I don't know what I'm doing here. Not really. Sure, I think deep down I've drilled the big philosophical explanation into my mind until I won't forget it, but there's a difference between knowing and knowing.

What am I doing here right now?

I feel like I'm constantly on the edge of a cliff, and I'm alright there until I realize I'm that far from an endless fall. I doubt everything that has held me safely there, even God. Sometimes I get such a keen realization of how close I am from trouble that I do stumble and start falling. I fall into doubt, fear, and worry and keep falling and falling till l even doubt the worth of my own life. Suddenly I am someone I don't know, and I remember who I used to be, but it's a dim memory. I want to slap myself in the face to get back to being myself, but I don't even know if I can get back. It's scary -this fall, and yet I find myself in it more often than I like.

Somehow or another, I do eventually clamber back up the cliff. My hands bleeding as they scrape the rock's rough sides to stop my downward spiral. My feet constantly slipping and sliding. My strength wearing thin from how much I exert to win back joy and peace because even though there are Hands to help, I won't let them. I'll ask for help as soon as I get back to the top and forget the darkness of the fall, but when I reach the top, a small fear creeps in and makes me wonder if I've actually secured myself more firmly beside the cliff's edge. Maybe I've only lulled my fears to sleep in a false sense of security. When I was down in the fall, I swore something had to change, but now I'm here, and everything is still the same because I don't know how to make the changes. The fears are still there right below the surface ready to throw me off the next time I suddenly look up in the middle of a crowd or out on a walk by myself and wonder:

What am I doing here?