Life in Arizona

A few random things:

*Cuddle the babies at night when it's cooler. You'll get less sweaty that way.

*Do not just walk up to the door and unlock it and enter the house. Approach cautiously (maybe carrying a big stick) and look for black widows first. If you do not do this, there will be a black widow there. (Thankfully no one was hurt!)

*Do not go into tourist shops if you freak out about snakes. The heads, skins, and stuffed bodies of those scaly things are everywhere!

*Do not brush food out of dishes and into the trash with your hands if the dishes have been sitting out all night. You may be stung by a scorpion. (I saw him before he saw me, thankfully!)

*Enjoy a walk to the air conditioned library to update your blog. Good side effects of this would include developing a nice tan.

*Remember to log out of your email and blog accounts when you leave the library, or you may still be logged in when you come back the next day! (Uh-oh...)

*If you remembered to clear the doorway of black widows, but there weren't any, don't assume you're safe. They're probably just waiting on the ground instead of in the doorway. (Again, no one but the spider was hurt.)

*If you do not like the smell of Raid, either do not live in Arizona, or find some other way to kill undesirable creepy crawlies.

*Just have fun. It's a great place to be!

(Sorry... I was going to post a few more positive things, but the library closes in 5 minutes and they want me to get off the computer)

Youtube Tuesday - Musical Comedy

*Notice*
I cannot endorse all of the movies of these gentlemen for various reasons.

Meet Ingudesman and Joo. I did last night and found them AMAZING. Watch for yourselves!

Big Hands:


Ticket to Ride:


Piano Lesson:


Hope you get a laugh! =D

Good and Not Evil

While here in Arizona I have been reading a lot of Keepers at Home magazines. I looked for a website, but couldn't find one. I would encourage anyone to get a subscription, though! I'm going to order it for myself when I get home. I'll post the phone number some time when I have it with me. Anyhow... I've also been reading a *wonderful* book called Preparing to be a Help Meet by Debi Pearl. It's been an encouragement, but it's also stepped on my toes a little. Good for me, right?

Anyhow... here's something I was thinking about. Proverbs 31:12 says that the virtuous woman will do her husband "Good and not evil all the days of her life." I have, for the longest time, always looked at the part that says, "good and not evil." Look at that last part. "From the time she says, 'I do.'"

Wait. I messed that up.

All the days of her life.

That means that my life NOW - even before I know who my husband - should be doing him good. I should be living a life that will make people say, "He is really blessed to be getting that girl." I should be praying for him more often.

What about you? Do you want to be a Proverbs 31 woman? If so, it starts now.
Not when you meet your future husband.
Not when you're engaged.
Not when you're married.

NOW.

Thoughts on the VDT Trailer

Hey, peeps! I guess ya'll prolly already know this, but I'm in Arizona! I'm L-O-V-ing it. Maybe it would be nice to have some cooler weather, but everything else makes up for the heat. =D I'm here at the library to type up some posts. This is the first one I'm doing and I'll schedule the others for later.



You probably know this, but the trailer for The Voyage of the Dawn Treader is out!!!!! I am SOOOO excited for the movie. I have a couple of problems with it, but that's just natural. I mean... movies never really stick to the book with perfect accuracy, right?

Let me start out by saying that the music in the trailer is AMAZINGLY BEYOND AMAZING! I absolutely cannot wait for the soundtrack! And even if the movie totally bombs (which I hope it won't) I have VERY high hopes for the music. Very high. The trailer music was SO perfect! (Yeah... I know... trailer music IS sometimes different from the actual movie music, but we shall hope that's not the case here.)

Can you believe how much Skandar and Georgie have changed since The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe? Wow. I wonder how much I've changed... LOL I never really thought about that. =P

On to the things that bother me.

The first thing that bothers me but that I'm getting over (or am I?) is the way they are putting the White Witch into every movie. I mean... seriously? At least what they did this time seems (from the VERY little that I know) to be better than the whole Caspian thing. ARGH. Such is life.

The thing that frustrates me more than that, though, is the "21st Century Pevensies" as I'm calling them. The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe: Breaking a window and hiding. Prince Caspian: Getting into a fight. Voyage of the Dawn Treader: Lying to get into the army. What in the world????

The next thing that I'm really curious about is from point 1:36 in the trailer. Really not sure about this. The only place that's supposed to be really dark is the dark island and MAYBE the Star's island at night. But that... almost looks spooky. The good places of Narnia aren't supposed to be spooky. I guess we'll see what happens.

The end for now.

P.S. Several people who know what a big fan I am have asked, "WHAT'S WITH PETER?" To be honest, I'm not sure. I thought they'd throw him in at the beginning of the movie before Lucy and Edmund get to Narnia, but it looks like he and Susan are wearing Narnian clothes. But maybe I just need to look closer. One thing I will say is this: Remember the end of P.C. After that it would seem like they'll keep Peter and Susan out. But movie people are stupid and unpredictable for the most part, so I can't be sure.

Confrontations in Literature: The Count of Monte Cristo (1)

I love some of the confrontations that can be found in literature, so I think I'm going to share a few with you. Of course, the classic that ALL of my friend know about (or can quote!) is between Lady Catherine de Bourgh and miss Elizabeth Bennet. I will include that one later just for the fun of it. But to start off I'm going to share a few from my favorite book, The Count of Monte Cristo.

Here is a little background (stolen from Wikipedia):

Edmond Dantès, a young and successful merchant sailor recently granted his own command by his dying captain Leclère, returns to Marseille to marry his fiancée Mercédès. Leclère, a supporter of the exiled Napoléon I, charges Dantès on his deathbed to deliver two objects: a package to Maréchal Bertrand (who had been exiled with Napoleon Bonaparte to the isle of Elba), and a letter from Elba to an unknown man in Paris. Subsequently, an anonymous letter accuses Dantès of being a Bonapartist traitor. The letter is later revealed to have been written by Mercédès' cousin Fernand Mondego and Danglars, Dantès' ship's supercargo. Villefort, the deputy crown prosecutor in Marseille, assumes the duty of investigating the matter. Villefort is normally considered a just man, but on discovering that the recipient of the letter from Elba is his Bonapartist father, he ultimately chooses to save his political career and condemns Dantès without trial to life imprisonment and protects his father by destroying the incriminating letter.

During his fourteen years imprisonment in the Château d'If, Edmond is visited in his cell by the Abbé Faria, a priest and fellow prisoner trying to tunnel his way to freedom. Faria had been imprisoned for proposing a united Italy. In the Chateau d'If, he was known as "The Mad Priest", claiming to be in possession of a massive treasure, and offering to reward the guards handsomely, should they release him. Faria provides Dantès with education in subjects including languages, history, economics, philosophy, mathematics, chemistry and the manners of political society. The priest, ill from a form of catalepsy and knowing that he will soon die, confides in Dantès the location of a treasure hoard on the Italian islet of Monte Cristo. After Faria's death the following year, Dantès escapes and is rescued by a smuggling ship. After several months of working with the smugglers, he gets the opportunity to go to Monte Cristo for a goods exchange. Dantès fakes an injury and convinces the smugglers to temporarily leave him on Monte Cristo. He then makes his way to the hiding place of the treasure. He returns to Marseilles, where he learns that his father has died in poverty. He buys himself a yacht and hides the rest of the treasure on board. With his new found wealth and education, Dantès buys the island of Monte Cristo and the title of Count from the Tuscan Government.

Edmond returns to Marseille and puts plans of revenge into action. He will not rest until each of the men who made him miserable has suffered. Here is the first confrontation in which the Count, disguised as the Abbe Busoni, stops his enemy Caderousse in the middle of an attempted robbery.

"The abbe, the abbe!" murmured he, clinching his fists, and his teeth chattering.

"So you would rob the Count of Monte Cristo?" continued the false abbe.

"Reverend sir," murmured Caderousse, seeking to regain the window, which the count pitilessly blocked - "reverend sir, I don't know - believe me - I take my oath" -

"A pane of glass out," continued the count, "a dark lantern, a bunch of false keys, a secretary half forced - it is tolerably evident" -

Caderousse was choking; he looked around for some corner to hide in, some way of escape.

"Come, come," continued the count, "I see you are still the same, - an assassin."

"Reverend sir, since you know everything, you know it was not I - it was La Carconte; that was proved at the trial, since I was only condemned to the galleys."

"Is your time, then, expired, since I find you in a fair way to return there?"

"No, reverend sir; I have been liberated by some one."

"That some one has done society a great kindness."

"Ah," said Caderousse, "I had promised" -

"And you are breaking your promise!" interrupted Monte Cristo.

"Alas, yes!" said Caderousse very uneasily.

"A bad relapse, that will lead you, if I mistake not, to the Place de Greve. So much the worse, so much the worse - diavolo, as they say in my country."

"Reverend sir, I am impelled" -

"Every criminal says the same thing."

"Poverty" -

"Pshaw!" said Busoni disdainfully; "poverty may make a man beg, steal a loaf of bread at a baker's door, but not cause him to open a secretary in a house supposed to be inhabited. And when the jeweller Johannes had just paid you 40,000 francs for the diamond I had given you, and you killed him to get the diamond and the money both, was that also poverty?"

"Pardon, reverend sir," said Caderousse; "you have saved my life once, save me again!"

"That is but poor encouragement."

"Are you alone, reverend sir, or have you there soldiers ready to seize me?"

"I am alone," said the abbe, "and I will again have pity on you, and will let you escape, at the risk of the fresh miseries my weakness may lead to, if you tell me the truth."

"Ah, reverend sir," cried Caderousse, clasping his hands, and drawing nearer to Monte Cristo, "I may indeed say you are my deliverer!"

"You mean to say you have been freed from confinement?"

"Yes, that is true, reverend sir."

"Who was your liberator?"

"An Englishman."

"What was his name?"

"Lord Wilmore."

"I know him; I shall know if you lie."

"Ah, reverend sir, I tell you the simple truth."

"Was this Englishman protecting you?"

"No, not me, but a young Corsican, my companion."

"What was this young Corsican's name?"

"Benedetto."

"Is that his Christian name?"

"He had no other; he was a foundling."

"Then this young man escaped with you?"

"He did."

"In what way?"

"We were working at St. Mandrier, near Toulon. Do you know St. Mandrier?"

"I do."

"In the hour of rest, between noon and one o'clock" -

"Galley-slaves having a nap after dinner! We may well pity the poor fellows!" said the abbe.

"Nay," said Caderousse, "one can't always work - one is not a dog."

"So much the better for the dogs," said Monte Cristo.

"While the rest slept, then, we went away a short distance; we severed our fetters with a file the Englishman had given us, and swam away."

"And what is become of this Benedetto?"

"I don't know."

"You ought to know."

"No, in truth; we parted at Hyeres." And, to give more weight to his protestation, Caderousse advanced another step towards the abbe, who remained motionless in his place, as calm as ever, and pursuing his interrogation. "You lie," said the Abbe Busoni, with a tone of irresistible authority.

"Reverend sir!"

"You lie! This man is still your friend, and you, perhaps, make use of him as your accomplice."

"Oh, reverend sir!"

"Since you left Toulon what have you lived on? Answer me!"

"On what I could get."

"You lie," repeated the abbe a third time, with a still more imperative tone. Caderousse, terrified, looked at the count. "You have lived on the money he has given you."

"True," said Caderousse; "Benedetto has become the son of a great lord."

"How can he be the son of a great lord?"

"A natural son."

"And what is that great lord's name?"

"The Count of Monte Cristo, the very same in whose house we are."

"Benedetto the count's son?" replied Monte Cristo, astonished in his turn.

"Well, I should think so, since the count has found him a false father - since the count gives him four thousand francs a month, and leaves him 500,000 francs in his will."

"Ah, yes," said the factitious abbe, who began to understand; "and what name does the young man bear meanwhile?"

"Andrea Cavalcanti."

"Is it, then, that young man whom my friend the Count of Monte Cristo has received into his house, and who is going to marry Mademoiselle Danglars?"

"Exactly."

"And you suffer that, you wretch - you, who know his life and his crime?"

"Why should I stand in a comrade's way?" said Caderousse.

"You are right; it is not you who should apprise M. Danglars, it is I."

"Do not do so, reverend sir."

"Why not?"

"Because you would bring us to ruin."

"And you think that to save such villains as you I will become an abettor of their plot, an accomplice in their crimes?"

"Reverend sir," said Caderousse, drawing still nearer.

"I will expose all."

"To whom?"

"To M. Danglars."

"By heaven!" cried Caderousse, drawing from his waistcoat an open knife, and striking the count in the breast, "you shall disclose nothing, reverend sir!" To Caderousse's great astonishment, the knife, instead of piercing the count's breast, flew back blunted. At the same moment the count seized with his left hand the assassin's wrist, and wrung it with such strength that the knife fell from his stiffened fingers, and Caderousse uttered a cry of pain. But the count, disregarding his cry, continued to wring the bandit's wrist, until, his arm being dislocated, he fell first on his knees, then flat on the floor. The count then placed his foot on his head, saying, "I know not what restrains me from crushing thy skull, rascal."

"Ah, mercy - mercy!" cried Caderousse. The count withdrew his foot. "Rise!" said he. Caderousse rose.

"What a wrist you have, reverend sir!" said Caderousse. stroking his arm, all bruised by the fleshy pincers which had held it; "what a wrist!"

"Silence! God gives me strength to overcome a wild beast like you; in the name of that God I act, - remember that, wretch, - and to spare thee at this moment is still serving him."

"Oh!" said Caderousse, groaning with pain.

"Take this pen and paper, and write what I dictate."

"I don't know how to write, reverend sir."

"You lie! Take this pen, and write!" Caderousse, awed by the superior power of the abbe, sat down and wrote: -

Sir, - The man whom you are receiving at your house, and to whom you intend to marry your daughter, is a felon who escaped with me from confinement at Toulon. He was No. 59, and I No. 58. He was called Benedetto, but he is ignorant of his real name, having never known his parents.

"Sign it!" continued the count.

"But would you ruin me?"

"If I sought your ruin, fool, I should drag you to the first guard-house; besides, when that note is delivered, in all probability you will have no more to fear. Sign it, then!"

Caderousse signed it. "The address, `To monsieur the Baron Danglars, banker, Rue de la Chaussee d'Antin.'" Caderousse wrote the address. The abbe took the note. "Now," said he, "that suffices - begone!"

"Which way?"

"The way you came."

"You wish me to get out at that window?"

"You got in very well."

"Oh, you have some design against me, reverend sir."

"Idiot! what design can I have?"

"Why, then, not let me out by the door?"

"What would be the advantage of waking the porter?" -

"Ah, reverend sir, tell me, do you wish me dead?"

"I wish what God wills."

"But swear that you will not strike me as I go down."

"Cowardly fool!"

"What do you intend doing with me?"

"I ask you what can I do? I have tried to make you a happy man, and you have turned out a murderer."

"Oh, monsieur," said Caderousse, "make one more attempt - try me once more!"

"I will," said the count. "Listen - you know if I may be relied on."

"Yes," said Caderousse.

"If you arrive safely at home" -

"What have I to fear, except from you?"

"If you reach your home safely, leave Paris, leave France, and wherever you may be, so long as you conduct yourself well, I will send you a small annuity; for, if you return home safely, then" -

"Then?" asked Caderousse, shuddering.

"Then I shall believe God has forgiven you, and I will forgive you too."

"As true as I am a Christian," stammered Caderousse, "you will make me die of fright!"

"Now begone," said the count, pointing to the window.

Caderousse, scarcely yet relying on this promise, put his legs out of the window and stood on the ladder. "Now go down," said the abbe, folding his arms. Understanding he had nothing more to fear from him, Caderousse began to go down. Then the count brought the taper to the window, that it might be seen in the Champs-Elysees that a man was getting out of the window while another held a light.

"What are you doing, reverend sir? Suppose a watchman should pass?" And he blew out the light. He then descended, but it was only when he felt his foot touch the ground that he was satisfied of his safety.

Monte Cristo returned to his bedroom, and, glancing rapidly from the garden to the street, he saw first Caderousse, who after walking to the end of the garden, fixed his ladder against the wall at a different part from where he came in. The count then looking over into the street, saw the man who appeared to be waiting run in the same direction, and place himself against the angle of the wall where Caderousse would come over. Caderousse climbed the ladder slowly, and looked over the coping to see if the street was quiet. No one could be seen or heard. The clock of the Invalides struck one. Then Caderousse sat astride the coping, and drawing up his ladder passed it over the wall; then he began to descend, or rather to slide down by the two stanchions, which he did with an ease which proved how accustomed he was to the exercise. But, once started, he could not stop. In vain did he see a man start from the shadow when he was halfway down - in vain did he see an arm raised as he touched the ground. Before he could defend himself that arm struck him so violently in the back that he let go the ladder, crying, "Help!" A second blow struck him almost immediately in the side, and he fell, calling, "Help, murder!" Then, as he rolled on the ground, his adversary seized him by the hair, and struck him a third blow in the chest. This time Caderousse endeavored to call again, but he could only utter a groan, and he shuddered as the blood flowed from his three wounds. The assassin, finding that he no longer cried out, lifted his head up by the hair; his eyes were closed, and the mouth was distorted. The murderer, supposing him dead, let fall his head and disappeared. Then Caderousse, feeling that he was leaving him, raised himself on his elbow, and with a dying voice cried with great effort, "Murder! I am dying! Help, reverend sir, - help!"

This mournful appeal pierced the darkness. The door of the back-staircase opened, then the side-gate of the garden, and Ali and his master were on the spot with lights.

[Chapter 83: The Hand of God]

Caderousse continued to call piteously, "Help, reverend sir, help!"

"What is the matter?" asked Monte Cristo.

"Help," cried Caderousse; "I am murdered!"

"We are here; - take courage."

"Ah, it's all over! You are come too late - you are come to see me die. What blows, what blood!" He fainted. Ali and his master conveyed the wounded man into a room. Monte Cristo motioned to Ali to undress him, and he then examined his dreadful wounds. "My God!" he exclaimed, "thy vengeance is sometimes delayed, but only that it may fall the more effectually." Ali looked at his master for further instructions. "Bring here immediately the king's attorney, M. de Villefort, who lives in the Faubourg St. Honore. As you pass the lodge, wake the porter, and send him for a surgeon." Ali obeyed, leaving the abbe alone with Caderousse, who had not yet revived.

When the wretched man again opened his eyes, the count looked at him with a mournful expression of pity, and his lips moved as if in prayer. "A surgeon, reverend sir - a surgeon!" said Caderousse.

"I have sent for one," replied the abbe.

"I know he cannot save my life, but he may strengthen me to give my evidence."

"Against whom?"

"Against my murderer."

"Did you recognize him?"

"Yes; it was Benedetto."

"The young Corsican?"

"Himself."

"Your comrade?"

"Yes. After giving me the plan of this house, doubtless hoping I should kill the count and he thus become his heir, or that the count would kill me and I should be out of his way, he waylaid me, and has murdered me."

"I have also sent for the procureur."

"He will not come in time; I feel my life fast ebbing."

"Wait a moment," said Monte Cristo. He left the room, and returned in five minutes with a phial. The dying man's eyes were all the time riveted on the door, through which he hoped succor would arrive. "Hasten, reverend sir, hasten! I shall faint again!" Monte Cristo approached, and dropped on his purple lips three or four drops of the contents of the phial. Caderousse drew a deep breath. "Oh," said he, "that is life to me; more, more!"

"Two drops more would kill you," replied the abbe.

"Oh, send for some one to whom I can denounce the wretch!"

"Shall I write your deposition? You can sign it."

"Yes yes," said Caderousse; and his eyes glistened at the thought of this posthumous revenge. Monte Cristo wrote: -

"I die, murdered by the Corsican Benedetto, my comrade in the galleys at Toulouse, No. 59."

"Quick, quick!" said Caderousse, "or I shall be unable to sign it."

Monte Cristo gave the pen to Caderousse, who collected all his strength, signed it, and fell back on his bed, saying: "You will relate all the rest, reverend sir; you will say he calls himself Andrea Cavalcanti. He lodges at the Hotel des Princes. Oh, I am dying!" He again fainted. The abbe made him smell the contents of the phial, and he again opened his eyes. His desire for revenge had not forsaken him.

"Ah, you will tell all I have said, will you not, reverend sir?"

"Yes, and much more."

"What more will you say?"

"I will say he had doubtless given you the plan of this house, in the hope the count would kill you. I will say, likewise, he had apprised the count, by a note, of your intention, and, the count being absent, I read the note and sat up to await you."

"And he will be guillotined, will be not?" said Caderousse. "Promise me that, and I will die with that hope."

"I will say," continued the count, "that he followed and watched you the whole time, and when he saw you leave the house, ran to the angle of the wall to conceal himself."

"Did you see all that?"

"Remember my words: `If you return home safely, I shall believe God has forgiven you, and I will forgive you also.'"

"And you did not warn me!" cried Caderousse, raising himself on his elbows. "You knew I should be killed on leaving this house, and did not warn me!"

"No; for I saw God's justice placed in the hands of Benedetto, and should have thought it sacrilege to oppose the designs of providence."

"God's justice! Speak not of it, reverend sir. If God were just, you know how many would be punished who now escape."

"Patience," said the abbe, in a tone which made the dying man shudder; "have patience!" Caderousse looked at him with amazement. "Besides," said the abbe, "God is merciful to all, as he has been to you; he is first a father, then a judge."

"Do you then believe in God?" said Caderousse.

"Had I been so unhappy as not to believe in him until now," said Monte Cristo, "I must believe on seeing you." Caderousse raised his clinched hands towards heaven.

"Listen," said the abbe, extending his hand over the wounded man, as if to command him to believe; "this is what the God in whom, on your death-bed, you refuse to believe, has done for you - he gave you health, strength, regular employment, even friends - a life, in fact, which a man might enjoy with a calm conscience. Instead of improving these gifts, rarely granted so abundantly, this has been your course - you have given yourself up to sloth and drunkenness, and in a fit of intoxication have ruined your best friend."

"Help!" cried Caderousse; "I require a surgeon, not a priest; perhaps I am not mortally wounded - I may not die; perhaps they can yet save my life."

"Your wounds are so far mortal that, without the three drops I gave you, you would now be dead. Listen, then."

"Ah," murmured Caderousse, "what a strange priest you are; you drive the dying to despair, instead of consoling them."

"Listen," continued the abbe. "When you had betrayed your friend God began not to strike, but to warn you. Poverty overtook you. You had already passed half your life in coveting that which you might have honorably acquired; and already you contemplated crime under the excuse of want, when God worked a miracle in your behalf, sending you, by my hands, a fortune - brilliant, indeed, for you, who had never possessed any. But this unexpected, unhoped-for, unheard-of fortune sufficed you no longer when you once possessed it; you wished to double it, and how? - by a murder! You succeeded, and then God snatched it from you, and brought you to justice."

"It was not I who wished to kill the Jew," said Caderousse; "it was La Carconte."

"Yes," said Monte Cristo, "and God, - I cannot say in justice, for his justice would have slain you, - but God, in his mercy, spared your life."

"Pardieu, to transport me for life, how merciful!"

"You thought it a mercy then, miserable wretch! The coward who feared death rejoiced at perpetual disgrace; for like all galley-slaves, you said, `I may escape from prison, I cannot from the grave.' And you said truly; the way was opened for you unexpectedly. An Englishman visited Toulon, who had vowed to rescue two men from infamy, and his choice fell on you and your companion. You received a second fortune, money and tranquillity were restored to you, and you, who had been condemned to a felon's life, might live as other men. Then, wretched creature, then you tempted God a third time. `I have not enough,' you said, when you had more than you before possessed, and you committed a third crime, without reason, without excuse. God is wearied; he has punished you." Caderousse was fast sinking. "Give me drink," said he: "I thirst - I burn!" Monte Cristo gave him a glass of water. "And yet that villain, Benedetto, will escape!"

"No one, I tell you, will escape; Benedetto will be punished."

"Then, you, too, will be punished, for you did not do your duty as a priest - you should have prevented Benedetto from killing me."

"I?" said the count, with a smile which petrified the dying man, "when you had just broken your knife against the coat of mail which protected my breast! Yet perhaps if I had found you humble and penitent, I might have prevented Benedetto from killing you; but I found you proud and blood-thirsty, and I left you in the hands of God."

"I do not believe there is a God," howled Caderousse; "you do not believe it; you lie - you lie!"

"Silence," said the abbe; "you will force the last drop of blood from your veins. What! you do not believe in God when he is striking you dead? you will not believe in him, who requires but a prayer, a word, a tear, and he will forgive? God, who might have directed the assassin's dagger so as to end your career in a moment, has given you this quarter of an hour for repentance. Reflect, then, wretched man, and repent."

"No," said Caderousse, "no; I will not repent. There is no God; there is no providence - all comes by chance." -

"There is a providence; there is a God," said Monte Cristo, "of whom you are a striking proof, as you lie in utter despair, denying him, while I stand before you, rich, happy, safe and entreating that God in whom you endeavor not to believe, while in your heart you still believe in him."

"But who are you, then?" asked Caderousse, fixing his dying eyes on the count. "Look well at me!" said Monte Cristo, putting the light near his face. "Well, the abbe - the Abbe Busoni." Monte Cristo took off the wig which disfigured him, and let fall his black hair, which added so much to the beauty of his pallid features. "Oh?" said Caderousse, thunderstruck, "but for that black hair, I should say you were the Englishman, Lord Wilmore."

"I am neither the Abbe Busoni nor Lord Wilmore," said Monte Cristo; "think again, - do you not recollect me?" Those was a magic effect in the count's words, which once more revived the exhausted powers of the miserable man. "Yes, indeed," said he; "I think I have seen you and known you formerly."

"Yes, Caderousse, you have seen me; you knew me once."

"Who, then, are you? and why, if you knew me, do you let me die?"

"Because nothing can save you; your wounds are mortal. Had it been possible to save you, I should have considered it another proof of God's mercy, and I would again have endeavored to restore you, I swear by my father's tomb."

"By your father's tomb!" said Caderousse, supported by a supernatural power, and half-raising himself to see more distinctly the man who had just taken the oath which all men hold sacred; "who, then, are you?" The count had watched the approach of death. He knew this was the last struggle. He approached the dying man, and, leaning over him with a calm and melancholy look, he whispered, "I am - I am" - And his almost closed lips uttered a name so low that the count himself appeared afraid to hear it. Caderousse, who had raised himself on his knees, and stretched out his arm, tried to draw back, then clasping his hands, and raising them with a desperate effort, "O my God, my God!" said he, "pardon me for having denied thee; thou dost exist, thou art indeed man's father in heaven, and his judge on earth. My God, my Lord, I have long despised thee! Pardon me, my God; receive me, O my Lord!" Caderousse sighed deeply, and fell back with a groan. The blood no longer flowed from his wounds. He was dead.

"One!" said the count mysteriously, his eyes fixed on the corpse, disfigured by so awful a death. Ten minutes afterwards the surgeon and the procureur arrived, the one accompanied by the porter, the other by Ali, and were received by the Abbe Busoni, who was praying by the side of the corpse.

The "One" there at the end just gave me the chills the first time I read it. I realized that Edmond was drop-dead serious about his revenge, and he had begun to knock his enemies off. But what I love about this book is the way he changes. Look at this passage that the Count wrote to the young man he looked upon as a son: (This is from the last chapter of the book)

Tell the angel who will watch over your future destiny, Morrel, to pray sometimes for a man, who like Satan thought himself for an instant equal to God, but who now acknowledges with Christian humility that God alone possesses supreme power and infinite wisdom. Perhaps those prayers may soften the remorse he feels in his heart. As for you, Morrel, this is the secret of my conduct towards you. There is neither happiness nor misery in the world; there is only the comparison of one state with another, nothing more. He who has felt the deepest grief is best able to experience supreme happiness. We must have felt what it is to die, Morrel, that we may appreciate the enjoyments of living.

Pre-post Apology

The post that I'm posting in a minute is *very* long, and I almost don't expect anyone to even read it. BUT it does happen to be one of my favorite passages of my favorite book. So I'm sharing it in spite of it's length. I hope that the other posts in this series won't be as long!

TTFN!

P.S. I wrote these posts this weekend and scheduled them to post today. By the time you read them, I'll be in the airport getting ready to board a plane. I might be gone for awhile, just so you know. I'll miss you guys!

Saturday Somethings

Today I'm just going to post a few random things. I love it when my friends do these kinds of posts!

1st item on the randomosity list: One of my favorite typos is when I'm visiting my blogger account. It is very likely that I will type in http://www.blooger.com instead of http://www.blogger.com - it's a booger of a problem, 'cause now this 'blooger' thing is one of my most typed-in websites. =P

I'm thinking about doing a series of posts on Mondays or Thursdays with some of my favorite moments in literature or movies. My top ten proposals (or maybe just five), my favorite confrontations, whatever. Do you guys think that's a good idea?

Last week I got a checking account with Wells Fargo. I got my debit card in the mail on Thursday, so now I'm dying to go spend some money so I can use it! Probably really childish of me, but I guess that's just the way I am! =P

I just read Predator by Terri Blackstock. I really enjoyed it - I love suspense! =D I also read Cape Refuge, so now I want to read the rest of that series. Has anyone else read Terri Blackstock?

I'm thinking of starting another module or two on the side of my blog for favorite movies, books, and TV shows. I also might ad some music to my blog. So be watching for some changes in the near future!

I was asked by my friend Buttercup whether or not I have a blog button. It's in the works. I was having a bit of trouble with the rose part of it. I may just end up leaving the rose off.... We'll see.

Okay, That's All, Folks! Talk to you next week!

Going Nuts

Right now I'm sitting in my living room. It's pretty dark for 4:00 in the afternoon, and the sound of pouring rain is having it's usual affect on me. I am LOVING it, and it's making me feel poetic, creative, and happy.

You know, I just have to laugh at the way things work. The tornado warnings are going off, and as usual, instead of paying heed to the "please take shelter", everyone is going outside. That would include myself. =D

Anyhow... that's not what I was going to post about. Instead, I'm going to tell you something really weird that has happened to me. It involves those allergies that have been driving me crazy for the last little while. I went to see the chiropractor and he told me that the rash on my legs and the itchy eyes, etc etc was caused by an allergy to macadamia nuts. Which I haven't eaten, touched, smelled, or ANYTHING for at least a month. So what on earth is going on? Well... we think we might have figured it out, though we're not sure.

There's a game called Chocolatier that I play on Mom's iTouch. The gist of it is that I'm supposed to travel the world and collect ingredients to make these various kinds of chocolate and then sell them. A big, fun time-waster. LOL A couple of the chocolate recipes call for macadamia nuts. They're hard to come by, they're expensive, and it's just a bit stressful to have to deal with them.

I know that some people who *might* read this will probably think this is totally weird. Some of you will believe it quite easily. I'm mostly in the former category, yet there HAS to be some explanation for my misery. Anyhow... I'll just say it.

There is a possibility that my thinking so much about macadamia nuts may have caused some of my problems. Inconceivable! Yet... what other explanation is there? We'll see if not playing that game helps my allergies.

To Answer a Question...

Hello, people! It's me again! Surprised? I imagine so.

Thanks so much for commenting on my post last night! It really made my day to have comments when I logged on this morning. =D

So... among the things I wanted to say last night is something that came up in one of the comments I received. My dear friend Kyrstin asked about my tweet on twitter in which I said, "House goes on the market on Tuesday. We're cleaning like crazy."

Here's the story:

I was born in Steamboat Springs, Colorado, and I lived in that area for the first 12 years of my life until we moved down to the Denver area. Last year when we went back to visit for the weekend, there was some talk about "The Yampa Valley Curse." Mom and Dad know several people who have succumbed to this curse, but they didn't think we'd be getting it any time soon. (For the record, it's more of a blessing than a curse.) What is this "curse"?

Anyone who lives in the Yampa Valley is destined to return if they move away.

A few weeks ago my dad's job ended, leaving him without work yet again. Then... he got a phone call asking him to return to our old stomping grounds for a project that's going on there.

So... our house is being put on the market tomorrow, we're packing and cleaning and everything is pretty crazy. Dad is supposed to be up there on the 21st. Right now we're planning on moving unless God shows us differently. So far He seems to be opening the doors for us to go back "home".

Well, I need to get back to my cleaning. And perhaps I ought to get dressed. =P

I will try to return ya'll's comments at lunchtime. Love you guys!

And... I Blog!

For like... the first time in forever.

I have SOOO much I want to say, but I can't think of it right now. LOL My allergies are pretty fired up and have turned me into a zombie of sorts.

So in order to prove that I AM getting back into the swing of blogging, I will quickly share with you about my evening and hope that tomorrow morning I'm feeling a little more human so that I can actually post what I'm wanting to post.

Tonight's youth activity was a combination of several games in order to see which grades were the smartest, fastest, whateverest. 7&8, 9&10, or 11&12.

First was the classic spinning around a bat and then running to a specific point while incredibly dizzy. Then followed other things like chugging down a pop, picking pennies out of a kiddie pool with your toes, trying to pick gummy worms off the bottom of the pool with nothing but your lips and teeth, eating a happy meal (that has been put in a blender 'til it's like baby food. YUCK!), and putting on a frozen shirt.

Anyhow... the 11&12 graders won. GO US! LOL

That was part of my evening. The rest is mostly too depressing. I'm going to go to bed and see if I can't sleep off at least a portion of these allergies.

Toodle-oo!