Readers' Favorite Book Review — Violet Eyes

Today I received an email with my first ever "official" review for Violet Eyes from a big organization...and it's four stars!

Reviewed by Samantha Rivera for Readers' Favorite

"Living in the small home of a healer woman who took her in after the brutal slaying of her parents, Maia is destined for more than just a life picking herbs. When she has a chance encounter with some soldiers, she finds out more about herself than she ever knew. Events are about to lead to some pretty big adventures and more chance meetings with people she never knew existed. Evil has taken her family and it’s threatening to take over more than that if The Resistance can’t overcome it. But The Resistance is finally set to win after more time than anyone can remember under the thumb of the evil Zorach. Violet Eyes by Katharine Bond is the story of a young girl with more than a little adventure and danger ahead of her.

Maia is the type of girl that any young girl wants to be. She may be quiet and shy from the start, but she’s not afraid to stand up for what she wants or what she believes in. She’s determined to right wrongs and create a good life for herself and her family. That’s something anyone reading this book can relate to and it’s something that I found intriguing as well. It’s part of what drew me in with this book. Of course, the adventure definitely doesn’t hurt matters and the fact that you don’t know what’s going to happen next makes you want to keep reading all night. Violet Eyes is most certainly the whole package."

If you want to see the source, here is the link. 

So excited!

Valley of Tears

Those who have read Violet Eyes know I've written about death; but I have to tell you that I have no experience with losing someone dear to me. I've lost family dogs (which was awful), but never before have I had to grieve for a human being so close to me that losing them rips a hole in my heart. Nearly all my words were imagination.

In a way, that changed this week. A good friend of mine lost her father in an accident, and he had many years left compared to the average lifespan of a man. It was totally unexpected, and his death hit the family hard. I never met him, but I witnessed my friend's hope and grief during this traumatic event, and for the first time I have a slight understanding of just how awful this kind of loss is.

There is one part of death that became apparent to me as I watched my friend go through her valley of tears with the passing of her father. When you submit yourself to the will of God with faith and hope, there is also true charity. It's hard to explain how, but amongst the grief there is a comfort — a drawing closer together as you're reminded of how fragile life is and how every moment counts. In my friend's case, her father was taken when he was in perfectly good health, and I imagine that might make it harder than if she had time to prepare herself for his eventual death. But as I watched her family pulling together, saw the friends who supported them, heard the story of how their neighbors tried to help save his life, and prayed with my friends for his recovery, I didn't see despair. I saw love.

There is a saying, "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger" and I think it applies here. It is possible to take a very bitter attitude towards the death of a loved one; but if we open our hearts and remember faith, hope, and charity, God can use tragedy to make those of us left behind stronger in virtue than ever before.

Please pray for her family, and any family who has lost a loved one. Then go spend time with yours. I will certainly try to spend more time with mine.

Pippin: I didn't think it would end this way.

 

Gandalf: End? No, the journey doesn't end here. Death is just another path... One that we all must take. The grey rain-curtain of this world rolls back, and all turns to silver glass... And then you see it.

 

Pippin: What? Gandalf?... See what?

 

Gandalf: White shores... and beyond, a far green country under a swift sunrise.

 

Pippin: Well, that isn't so bad.

 

Gandalf: No... No it isn't.

~ The Return of the King, by J.R.R. Tolkien

Top Ten Tuesdays — Studio C

Hey there! Time for another list, and this time I've got an extra-fun one for you. Recently an acquaintance of mine told me about this comedy sketch television team called Studio C, and I've been binge-watching ever since. The thing I like most about them is that, while still being hilariously funny, they're clean enough that my two grade school age sisters can watch with me. Here are my ten favorites.

Note: I'm not listing them in any specific order of favoritism. There are so many more, and just about all of them are awesome. Go check them out on Youtube when you get bored. These are just the ones that struck me as especially funny.

Enjoy.

1. Cupcake Wars Interrupted by Jealous Husband  — I've never seen this show before in my life, but the skit had me busting up laughing.

2. The Ground is Lava — Kids and their imaginations...

3. Career Placement Test — Demonstrating the not-so-random results of career placement tests. Computers really do know us (mwahahahahaha).

4. A Man's Brain — No explanation needed, ha ha. (sorry, guys)

5. Google Translator — Oh, the dangers of internet dating! Especially when reliant upon Google Translator to help you communicate.

6. Kyle's Cop Ride Along —  I can't think of a good way to introduce this one. It's just a cute goofball sketch. Very funny.

7. The Mad Scientist Creates Junior High School — Everything makes sense now.

8. The Unusual Suspects — Another goofball comedy. My brother and I are Batman fans, and we loved this.

9.  Blame It On The Butler — Who else could it be?

10. Fake Boyfriend — This was too funny to not share.

Goodbye Samson

I was going to write a July Favorites post before being sidetracked by the Scandinavian Festival, but something has happened that I think deserves more attention. Namely, I lost a dear friend yesterday afternoon, around 5 o'clock. I'm the kind of person who has a hard time speaking about things that touch me deeply, and so I'm going to write his eulogy here. He deserves it.

Almost exactly eleven years ago, a little nine year old girl went to an outdoor mall with her family: Mom, Dad, and baby brother. She went shopping with her mother while her father took the little toddler to look at puppies in the pet shop window. When she came out, her father walked up to her mother and said, "you know, they have this cute little Rhodesian Ridgeback/Lab/Rottweiler puppy for sale." The little girl only vaguely grasped the concept of dog breeds, but when she and her brother heard "puppy" they immediately joined in the petition. As a result, the little girl got to carry home her family's brand new addition, the most adorable little bundle of fluff, energy, new puppy smell, and doggie kisses. Her Dad named the new dog Samson because he happened to read that part of the Bible recently and liked that story.

In hindsight, it doesn't seem that long ago. I can sort of remember playing with him as a puppy. He couldn't quite master the concept of fetch, but we spent a lot of time playing keep away. My Mom used to call him Samson Shmancy because he liked sneaking into my room, stealing toys, and then prancing through the house with them as if he was quite proud of himself.

Samson was a great family dog. He loved all of us kids and spent hours outside playing in the yard with us when he was younger. He was also incredibly patient with the little ones at times when a less good-natured dog would've snapped. I have many memories of rescuing him from probing baby fingers and knees after my sisters were born.  When our older dog, Sooner, died, I can remember cuddling with Samson and feeling much better.  I nicknamed him my teddy bear after a while, because he loved being petted, kissed, and hugged.

I also don't remember him ever growling or barking at us, except when our rough-housing became too rough. It was almost as if he was trying to warn us to knock it off before someone got hurt. But nothing compared to his protective fits when low flying planes or thunderstorms passed our house. That was the only time he would run outside and turn "dangerous." He'd bark and growl at the sky like he was going to teach it a lesson until the evil noise passed. As he grew older, it became harder for him to run and play, but his good nature never became less sweet.   

In fact, when I noticed he had trouble getting up from lying on the floor four days ago, it wasn't hard to brush worry aside. How could something be wrong when he was in such a good mood? His tail still wagged, and he still raised his head and perked his ears when I petted him or said his name. It was probably just his aging joints growing sore because he was lying on a newly laid wood floor.

The next day, my Mom expressed concern that something could be seriously wrong this time...not just another bout of joint pain. I didn't believe her. Healthy dogs like Samson don't die at eleven years old. The last big dog we had died at thirteen, and that was only because of cancer. We would've seen signs of cancer before, right? Samson had to have at least another two years left in him...at least.

Twelve hours later — the next morning — my parents took him to the Vet Hospital to be put down. He wasn't eating or drinking (hadn't for days apparently), and he couldn't move at all. I felt racked with guilt because I'd been too busy with festival preparations to notice how quickly he was going downhill. But as my Mom and brother (now a teenager) loaded him in the car, he wagged his tail and looked at all of us with his big, sad, brown eyes.  After seeing that, I prayed the vet might be able to find something...anything to save him.

Well, they tried. Samson had  a history of benign tumors  around his abdomen, and one unseen tumor had grown inside his body until it overcrowded all his digestive organs.  They removed the tumor, but the blood loss was too much. Even after a transfusion he didn't recover. We were going to give him a little more time before we put him down this morning if he didn't get better, but he died of natural causes yesterday afternoon.

About an hour before he died, however, I got to go visit him with the family. I expected to see a weakened version of Samson, but I wasn't expecting the nearly dead version. That's when I suspected he wasn't  going to make it. This wasn't Samson. It didn't matter how bad things got before, he never acted like this. He didn't flinch when I touched his head, and his brown eyes looked more black. I didn't say anything to anyone else, especially my siblings, but I knew deep down he wasn't coming home. I knew it was the last time I was going to see him alive.

We got the phone call about an hour later.

He was a good boy, and I miss him already. There will be other puppies in the future, but he'll always be my first puppy.  And just like he didn't necessarily "replace" the two previous family dogs (who were also amazing animals that I miss dearly), he won't be replaced by the next one. Our hearts are just going to get a little bigger.

In the meantime, we have our other dog, a seven year old beagle named Delilah. I don't think she's really begun to miss Samson yet, but I know that having her around makes it a lot easier on the rest of us. She's not quite as cuddly as he was either, but she's close enough. It's weird having only her puttering through the house, but it's something.

The hardest part of yesterday was when I went to clear the counter after dinner that night. Samson always tried to sneak meat bones when we weren't looking, so I have a habit of piling them on one plate and pushing them to the middle of the counter until I can throw them away. Halfway through this task, I remembered that Samson wasn't here anymore. He never will be again.

I didn't cry when it hit me though. Remembering him in the hospital helped me see that there really wasn't another way. He's in Dog Heaven, where he deserves to be — where he can chase all the planes, jump off all the porches, and eat all the juicy bones he wants to. That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt, and I'll probably cry a lot before I let it go. But that does help...a lot.

I love you, teddy bear. Goodbye...for now. 

California Roadtrip 2014

I'm baaaaaaack!

There is so much to tell about this past month there is no way I can cover all of it in the space of one blog post. But I can cover most of it. Here goes...

First off, California — WOW. Can I just repeat that? W-O-W!

That was the first time I'd driven farther than four hours from my house without my Dad in the car, and my destination, San Jose, was more like ten. The trip down was notable for two reasons. 1: I discovered that there is such a place as Yolo County. 2: These babies cropped up every two miles or so on the highway. Any British Sci-fi fan who understands why I found these entertaining will have extra friendship points. Everyone else — stop judging me. Ha ha.

I'm also pleased to announce that I didn't get lost once. This is largely due to my co-pilot, Ashley, whose main job (besides reading directions) was to make sure I didn't have a nervous breakdown while driving in California big city traffic for the first time...during the 5 o'clock rush hour.  Thankfully, the other drivers were polite to me (probably because they saw my Oregon license plate and decided they didn't want an accident to clog traffic even more), and we arrived at our destination in one piece.

Wish I could say the rest of our driving experiences went as smoothly. But at least our misadventures were relegated to getting lost and taking the scenic route through San Jose (different trip), Santa Cruz, and San Francisco,  with a brief  stop in Oakland. My friends are still speaking to me, so all's well that ends well.

Other than that, every day was a whirlwind of excitement. Most of the trip was spent counseling at a girl's camp, so hiking, swimming, and hogging shady spaces took up a great deal of my time. But I do have a few beautiful pictures from the special events.

The first event was the local Norweigian Folk Dance group coming to camp in order to perform for the girls.  As most of my readers are probably well-aware by now, Scandinavian folk dancing is something I absolutely love, so it made me incredibly happy to see the girls being introduced to this. To make matters even better, the girls seemed to love it too. The Nordahl Grieg Leikarring og Spelemannslag not only performed for the kids, they also took extra time to teach everyone at camp how to dance, including the counselors and interested camp staff. I could tell it made a huge impact on the girls, and their enthusiasm stayed with them for the rest of the week until they could perform their own dance for their parents.

Later that week, we went to visit the California missions of San Juan Bautista (left) and San Carlos (right), the latter being the burial place of Father Junipero Serra. (above)

                    



 For some weird reason, this made me laugh.

After camp, Ashley and I, along with two other counselors, went to do some sight-seeing along the California coast. Our adventures took us through the Santa Cruz boardwalk, where I rode my first roller coaster, The Big Dipper.





Then we went to San Francisco, where I got the daylights scared out of me by the San Francisco Bushman. I would describe that adventure in more detail, but I've noticed that he grows bigger and louder every time I reiterate that story. Pretty soon he'll be ten feet tall with fangs and claws if I'm not careful. 

 





Then we drove across the Golden Gate Bridge, and I took pictures of Alcatraz Prison from a distance. To be honest, San Francisco was my favorite part of the trip, and someday I want to visit again.

 



This seagull was totally posing for all the tourists. He just sat there giving everyone with a camera his
best side. The lens wasn't zoomed in at all.

  (left) A front row seat on the Golden Gate Bridge, complete with overcast weather. (right) Jordan The One Man Band performing on Fisherman's Wharf.
Photos courtesy of Ashley.





 (left) A Candyland Palace. (right) My favorite scenic picture of San Francisco.






  It was such a fun trip that I had trouble adjusting to being home again. For any of the other counselors, campers, and people who could have been mentioned here but weren't: thank you for making it memorable. God bless you, and I hope we can meet again.