Hi guys!! Well..,
First, I just want to apologize for my absence ;0(
I made my first address to America’s Congress, and they *really* are a rowdy bunch over there in the Columbian District of Washington!! But now that Mary Jane’s launch has taken a ‘flight, I’m very much so happy to be getting *back* to that which I love most.
So, in the spirit of my own Great Expectations, I wanted to share with you a passage from one of my favorite books [it’s a *tie* but of course, with Salinger’s Catcher who’d *already* caught my eye in the 10th grade and all]. Dickens wrote it, and I’m so grateful they *both* took the time..,
But in *any* case—just as of late, I started revisiting the classics. The *first* time I read this one in particular though, was in my 11th grade AP English class at Hoover High School [go Vikings’ black and orange woohoo!!). The class was taught by a one, Mis Palmer, with an emphasis (*always* —if you forgot, she would remind) on the “z” .., “Mrs.” Palmer was her mother she’d strike down, in a not so super obliging tone..,
But back to the classics: it was in her class, that I first read Dickens’ Great Expectations. And that was the time in my life when I saw *true* love bleed straight out from inside a long since, frozen heart. His book [Dickens’], is pretty *long* (!!), so it took us a ‘while [as a class] to make our way *through* it. But as we did, and all the other arms in the class began to weigh heavily and then sag — my o.w.n. arm, curiously enough…grew uncharacteristically jumpy with strength! The whole semester, or at least the part we *spent* reading this particular Dickens’ classic (we also read Shakespeare’s Romeo & Juliet and most notably—David, was in my class ;0)
But anyways, the whole dang on semester we spent reading this particular Dickens’ classic, I answered for her (Ms. Palmer, xO) every question to which no peer of mine had, but for *one* which also, as it happened, was—the—last.
I can no longer remember the question, but I did learn this lesson along life’s journey as I continued to grow *in*to that one soliloquy—Frost’s, *less* traveled path..,
If, you are up to bat, on home plate with loaded bases and all eyes a watchin’ your e.v.e.r.y. step,
And if, at that moment, you *allow* t.h.e.i.r. doubts to seep down into your o.w.n. soul…
Then the answer, quite slips right on by to hell where your o.w.n. fear’s leading.
So then, at long last, straight to the point—this is the beautiful string of words with which Dickens’ just restrung my heart, once, a ‘more..
[Handcrafted Beauty from within the Hollows of Wood]
“Now then, lookee here!” said the man. “Where’s your mother?”
“There, sir!” said I.
He started, made a short run, and stopped and looked over his shoulder.
“There, sir!” I timidly explained. “Also Georgiana. That’s my mother.”
“Oh!” said he, coming back. “And is that your father alonger your mother?”
“Yes, sir,” said I; “him too; late of this parish.”
“Ha!” he muttered then, considering. “Who d’ye live with—supposin’ you’re kindly let to live, which I han’t made up my mind about?”
“My sister, sir—Mrs. Joe Gargery—wife of Joe Gargery, the blacksmith, sir.”
“Blacksmith, eh?” said he. And looked down at his leg.
After darkly looking at his leg and at me several times, he came closer to my tombstone, took me by both arms, and tilted me back as far as he could hold me; so that his eyes looked most powerfully down into mine, and mine looked most helplessly up into his.
“Now lookee here,” he said, “the question being whether you’re to be let to live. You know what a file is.”
“And you know what wittles is.”
After each question he tilted me over a little more, so as to give me a greater sense of helplessness and danger.
“You get me a file.” He tilted me again. “And you get me wittles.” He tilted me again. “You bring ‘em both to me.” He tilted me again. “Or I’ll have your heart and liver out.” He tilted me again.
I was dreadfully frightened, and so giddy that I clung to him with both hands, and said, “If you would kindly please to let me keep upright, sir, perhaps I shouldn’t be sick, and perhaps I could attend more.”
He gave me a most tremendous dip and roll, so that the church jumped over its own weather-cock. Then, he held me by the arms, in an upright position on top of the stone, and went on in these fearful terms:
I can hardly wait to, rediscover the plot..