The Weekend Chronicle

First Christmas Shopping Excursion of the Season
A good time was had by all, in spite of a shortage of funds. Mel is shy (at least, that's what it said in a fortune-telling book of those born on her birthday). Who knew? She also discovered she shares her birthday with Fran Dresher. *Long loud nasal laughter*

Family Pumpkin Carving
First prize went to Dad's Jack O'Lantern "The Friar". Second prize went to Joey's "Sesame Street Jack O'Lantern" Mom won the speed-carving contest. Davy had the honorable mention for Most Halloweenish. Miriam's was hailed as most charming. Rosie's was the cutest. Mel's was the weirdest. Amanda was the traditionalist. The dog ran away (Killer Muffin, not Maggie). He's back now. There was hardly any flinging of pumpkin guts.

Mel Slugs Joe
He had it coming. And she did not mean to hit him in the mouth. Both bled. Mel's knuckle is still a little sore. Sorry Joe. She feels kinda bad. Joey is quoted as saying, "I think there's a piece of my tooth embedded in my lip!" Later the statement was proven to be an exaggeration.

Mel Spends A (mostly) Warm and Cozy Weekend at Home
Soup & cookie bars were on the menu. Sweaters, jackets, hoodies and boots were the fashion of the weekend. Here is a quote Mel found while skimming through an Eloise book:
We sang Noel for 506
Silent Night for 507
We didn't sing for 509
At the request of 511

Mel went for two walks. One was in the woods with her little brother. As they wandered through the dry yellow leaves Davy said, "It's like walking on potato chips!"

Upon Wandering through the Krohn Conservatory one Early Afternoon in October

I wanted to exist in a vacuum. I wanted to be placed inside a glass tube with all but myself sucked out. I wanted a lid sealed on so nothing could get in. Then, maybe, I could straighten up the messes in my brain and soul. But man cannot exist in a vacuum, and neither can Melissa, who is, in fact, a woman. So I went to the Krohn Conservatory. I took Vanity Fair and sat on the only dry bench in the rainforest. I read for a bit and then was disgusted to hear a voice over the intercom (An intercom in a rainforest, oh, horror.) saying "Marcel, Gretchen on line one, Marcel, Gretchen on one." And then I laughed, because Marcel and Gretchen are funny names.

When the bench became uncomfortable I decided to take a walk-through. Nothing eventful happened in the desert. In the next room, I paused by a spray of white and lavender orchids, and God gave me the promise from the Sermon on the Mount. As God takes care of those orchids how much more will he take care of me. My brain's mess was straightened up as I looked into a purpley orchid and listened to my Father.

Next came the Bonsai room (Are there rooms in a conservatory? Would they be called exhibits or maybe habitats instead?). I can't help but see Bonsai trees as too controlled. Stunted. It seems like the very nature of a plant is free and wild, and to snip and shape them so much is cruel. But as I wandered through the Bonsai habitation, I began to believe it cruel to leave something in its natural state. The bonsai plants are gorgeous. Would they have been lovely if left alone? The cultivator isn't cruel, he is blessing them by shaping them into something beautiful. And this time it was the mess in my soul that was straightened out.

I went back to the rainforest exhibit-place-thingy to read again, but it had become busy so I watched the people. I saw two little boys who were interested only in the goldfish. They bent their blond heads over the pond until they were bored and ran out again. I saw a tour guide walk through saying, "This is Chenille, which is french for 'fuzzy caterpillar', and that is an Oakley Fern wrapped around a Mahogany Tree." I saw a girl in a black hat wander through as I had done. She seemed to be waiting for someone. I saw a boy with short black curly hair and long black curly eyelashes jumping, trying to touch the Spanish moss. I think he was pretending to be an NBA player. And I saw two tiny ants crawling on the white page of my book. And everything was perfect.

Then the ferny damp air was too heavy, so I walked outside to the darling caresses of my own Ohio autumn. And I was glad not to be in a vacuum.

My Autumn Post (I fought and lost)

I tried to resist. I try not to post about the seasons, for your sake and my reputation.
But I love fall.
- Because everyone seems to want everything to smell cinnamony. It's everywhere.
- Yes, because of the leaves. I love the gorgeousness of the trees going out in a blaze of glory.
- Because as Keats (and Jeeves) said, it's the "season of mists and mellow fruitfulness."
- It's the first hint that Christmas is coming. I've been listening to carols periodically for
over a month now.
- Because of sunny crispness and windy rainstorms.
- Because (as I mentioned to many of you)
the bugs are dying by the thousands. Muhahahahaha.