soul log

1st: Mom’s Plant | 2nd: My Shoes | 3rd: Backyard

4th: Shoe Rack | 5th: Flowers | 6th: Dining Room

Summer is gone. I can fan it away. Autumn is here. I can feel it already. Today, I got a full blast of cold air outside as I felt around and remembered those days in autumn when I began to rake the orange leaves, and when I began to wear a coat. When in summer, bringing up the topic of wearing a coat would get me laughed out of the room. There is no laughing now.

It is beautiful outside. All of our windows are open, because outside, the air is much more comfortable and open. Instead of the stuffy air that even the air conditioner cannot take away, the outside air gets you cool in no time. It feels great. I love autumn. Continue reading

Remember when I ran home when I found out it wasn’t raining? Well, guess what? I shouldn’t have done that. New research says that running gets you more wet than walking. Oops.

Well, I will try to forget about that now. Recently, I’ve finished a biography on George Washington. The book is George Washington: The Man Who Would Not Be King. It is a pretty good book, and it brings you to depth on George Washington.

Here is a joke:

A young woman wasn’t feeling well, and asked one her co-workers to recommend a physician.

“I know a great one in the city, but he is very expensive. Five hundred dollars for the first visit, and one hundred dollars for each one after that.”

The woman went to the doctor’s office and, trying to save a little money, cheerily announced.

“I’m back!” Continue reading

Today at school, something happened that was really funny. At recess, a couple of kids would not be quiet. So the teacher threatened to give them silent lunch (all by themselves at Antarctica, what I call the silent table). So they were quiet.

At about the same moment, another kid raised his hand. The teacher called on him. “Yes?” The kid said, “Can I ask you how to spell this word: supercallifragilisticexpeladoxious?”Everyone laughed, but the teacher didn’t. The kid was sentenced to prison in Antarctica for one lunch period. Continue reading

Today I turned in my project. It was a great success. Let me describe a little more than my previous post. That afternoon, we worked inside the garage, a sheet of water dripping down from the open garage door. It looked beautiful.

Inside, I would give suggestions and occasionally help out with the cutting. The project was to make an accurate display that could be shown in a museum of ancient and old days, so my dad suggested a knife. Of course! The Indians used one.

Because my dad was great at art, we grabbed a piece of styrofoam and cut it into a knife. Then we got some mud from the grass (there was a break from raining) and smeared it all over. After that, we dug small trenches into the knife and put marbles in them. Complete!

But as we were walking home, we trampled on a box. Naturally, my dad’s artist mind became to take over. “We’ll make a display for it!” So we grabbed another piece of Styrofoam, cut it so it fit inside the box, and then dug a trench in the middle the size of the knife, and put it in.

Then when we were walking in, we saw some purple tissue paper. Twenty minutes later, the whole display box was wrapped in tissue paper. Tada!

Today, the project was a big success. Yahoo!

Today it rained. And it rained. And it rained. With a lot of breaks in between. And lots of wind.

This morning, I went out to get some fresh air with my dad. Seeing all the weeds that were gathering in the cracks of our sidewalk, we were unusually embarrassed. So I got a small metal stick (for wedging the weeds out of the crack) and a pair of gloves. Halfway out of the garage, my dad called.

“Honey! Can you grab a small shovel?” So mid-step, I went back to get a shovel. Just as I was about to step onto the driveway, my dad called. “Honey! Can you grab a pair of workgloves for me?” So again, 1/4 of a step done, I went back.

This time, half-step, my dad called again. “Honey! Move fast!” So I ran over. Just when I was under a tree, I noticed that water was dripping off from the branches. Interesting.

We went to work until I noticed an unusually lot of water was dripping down. My dad, who was working in the grass with no tree or plant on top said, “Hey. This is a lot of water for a tree to be dripping down.” I lifted my head and stared at him with an open mouth. He starred at the sky. We both looked at each other.

“LET’S BUST AND GET OUT OF HERE!” I hollered. We both ran into the garage until we were panting. When we went into the house, my mom was laughing. “Got a bath?” My dad told her, “No thanks. I need a bath.”

That same afternoon, I was working on a school project for early days. I was to make a model of something early humans of the world were using. I made a knife. Working inside the empty parking spot inside the garage was spacey, roomy, and comfortable. Great for working on projects.

So I came in and wrote this.

Yeah! I have been liking this WordPress service for a long time! It’s no surprise I have decided to use thier hosting. Now that I am trying it out, I am seriously beginning to like this! This whole editor is cool, and it is very interesting how they have much more themes than Blogger does.

I was a tiring day today. I went ahead and finished lawn-mowing and edging the yard, and trust me, it looks much more better. I also helped out my neighbor and cut thier grass.

Of course, that wasn’t all I did. Sweeping up the grassy mess, and wiping some sweat off from my face is tiring. It’s not like writing “This is hard” over and over. This was really seriously tiring.

Now, I am not the person that likes to work, so as you must imagine, it was quite a scene. I would think if you saw my work, you would crack up. I mean, hey, whats this little shrimp doing out here?

It was nice and cool today and the weather was nice thanks to the cold front by the hurricane. I don’t really mind Florida taking the blame. It’s nice and comfy in this area now. In fact, I am thankful the hurricane came.

Yes, the Bahamas got all busted, but some parts of Florida didn’t get the hurricane. I mean, it came and swirled around, so thats nice.

“Lake Livengston State Park: A Lake Maze” by me, of course
. (c) Copyright 2006 Brad. All rights reserved. No copy of this text can be displayed without written permission.

I think I know where I am. Here, on the map, I am here at this fork… or maybe this fork, or maybe this cross. To tell the truth, I don’t know where I am.

I have been stuck in this maze for maybe a while. It has been about an hour since we left camp. We were at Lake Livingston State Park with my dad’s company pals. They had planned this campout for a long time.

I thought about who made the map. They sure did not pay attention. On the trail we were on, we were confused a lot. The network of trails on the map did not reflect the real forest.

Along the path, we saw trails that were unmarked on the map, and trails marked on the map that were not in the real world, meaning there was no possible way unless we tried to go through the entangled mess of pine needles and trees.

Everywhere I looked was tall pine trees. Everywhere I listened were chirping birds, happy with their lives, and knowing exactly where they were, unlike us. But there we were, in the great wilderness.

It felt good. I stopped and reached into my backpack and grabbed my water bottle out, drinking some. It felt refreshing and safe, because I knew with water I could always survive, even if we were lost…

My dad caught up with me from behind and took a sip of water. He chatted with me and then we ate a cracker together. It tasted salty. I climbed back onto my bike and rode on.

It didn’t take long before we noticed we were going in circles. We saw the same rock, the same fallen trunk, and the same spot. It didn’t feel good knowing we went in circles.

“Come on!” My dad encouraged, so we went in a circle again. Finally, when my dad was convinced that “no, we didn’t miss the trail”, we went in another direction. Soon, we hit the familiar main path.

My dad and I decided to again stake out on another obvious but unmarked trail. I went along on the trail. The piney ground felt soft and perfect for biking. We rode along until ahead, we saw a road.

My dad used the compass to determine that going along that road would bring us to the dock. It sounded reasonable, since the road went northward and the map (although quite untrusting) said the dock was north.

When riding down the road, I noticed two fences, one on the left and one on the right of the road, which we came from. The one on the left was obviously a property line, so we guessed that was the park boundary.

Ahead of us, we saw a sign. Far ahead, the only word we could recognize was “Notice”. I went ahead and read the sign. “Lake Livingston Homes are now open to moving in…” Moving in? What was this getting to?

It didn’t take long for me to see the street sign “Livingston Dr.” and piece together the information. That trail was a way out of the park, and we had stumbled upon it. The fences were both property lines, only the left side was private.

Before anyone noticed, me and my dad went back into the park. We rode all the way back to the main route before anyone noticed. We relaxed. I figured the map did not show that trail for a reason.

My dad still wanted to go to the dock. We carefully made sure not to go on the wrong trail, not to go out the park, and to follow the map, and made it to the dock. At last, we had arrived.

The first thing we noticed was that it was not the beautiful dock that we had saw before while riding (going in circles, to be exact). Instead, it was a small trail going around the outside of the bay.

I guessed that it was probably the private property dock. So we found a way to get down the steep hill and not to get into the depth of Livingston Lake. When we did, my dad decided to ride along the edge of the lake.

It was great except for some certain spots. The most common one was missing pavement. There would be an area where all you saw was steel linings and weeds. The weeds were very bumpy, and as the pavement was pretty high up, I found it hard to get back onto the pavement.

In less than ten minutes, our little journey was over as we came across the end of the pavement. There was a little bend that went into the land.

I was pretty mad because right across from us, less than maybe one-hundred yards were the pavement. I wanted to bike right cross, but you couldn’t bike across the lake.

So we turned around and went back up. I took a look at the screen houses. It looked all right. It had great ventilation, which I thought might be a bad thing at night when the air was cold.

The screen house looked pretty secure. It might be too secure. If one mosquito came in, that was one mosquito that couldn’t come out from that screen house. I laughed at that thought, but then remembered that I was living in one myself later. I smiled. It looked fun.

We went back to camp just in time to make it in time for the delicious lunch. Some friends that had come along had made a scrumptious dinner.

Turkey, fruit, bread, dumplings, barbeque, and mouth-watering pork-on-a-stick made my stomach full all the way to the tip. Just when we least expected it, a guest arrived.

“Can we join in?” they asked. I happily agreed. Why did they take so long to arrive? After all, here was someone I could play with.\

I spent the rest of the time playing with them until night, when we went to the bonfire.

At the bonfire, someone threw in a matchstick. The fire did not blaze. Instead, it glowed lightly. Until somebody poured a bucket of oil on top.

The flammable oil made the fire lighten up intensely. I scrambled back as the flaming bark began to shoot away like missiles attacking. It was fun.

That night, I went into our van as my dad set up the camping car. What was a van was not a almost-full-fledged RV, only a bit small. It looked like the same old van from the outside. But just like never judging a book by its cover, the inside was much better.

On the ground lay the long bed, which laid on top of the foldable back-row. Chairs in the middle row had been removed already. I laid down and felt the seat lock. It was the only thing that made it feel not like a RV.

The next morning, I was noisily awaked by two friends I played with yesterday who were knocking. I whipped into my jeans, as they could see through the glass, and what they saw was me in my night-wear with a thick and huge blanket over me. Not a good reputation maker.

That morning, after most of the people left, we went bike riding. Going back to the campsite, we noticed everyone had left. We biked on over to a trail next to a playground and saw some of the people in the group.

It clicked in my mind as I realized they had come over here to play and eat. Too bad for them, they didn’t have a pot. We did, though. So while I played on the playground with everyone else, they made lunch.

What was for lunch was eggs, and my dad’s very own recipe for spaghetti with my mom’s very own recipe for sauce. It ended up being a delicious dinner.

After lunch, we got ready to pack up. As I sat on the car, I looked outside. From trails to playgrounds to campsites, Lake Livingston State Park had it all.

Which is why I wondered why it didn’t have everything on the map.

It was a day. I was in my mom’s car. My dad was chatting with my uncle. They were having a good time chatting. I was not.

I sat there, looking lonely. I looked at the empty seat next to me. There was a mat on top. And on that mat was a chain. Attached to that chain was my wallet. Delighted, I opened my wallet.

I had four cards. A library card, a copier card, a printer card, and a discount card. I closed my wallet. I put it on the mat. The mat was on the empty seat next to me.

I sat. I wiggled. My dad continued chatting. I turned around. I looked at the empty seat next to me. There was a mat on top. And on that mat was a chain. Attached to that chain was my wallet.

Delighted, I opened my wallet.

I still had four cards. I closed my wallet.

I looked around. I opened my wallet. There were four cards. I closed my wallet. I opened it. There were four cards. I closed my wallet. Copy. Paste. There were still four cards. Four cards. Five cards. Four cards…

Wait a minute. I jumped. I opened my wallet again. Five cards? I looked again. Four cards, I closed my wallet.

Northbound. Eastbound. Outbound lane. Shifting lane. Copy paste.

I opened my wallet. I still had four cards. I closed my wallet. I pulled off my flash drive cap. It was still the same plug. I closed my flash drive.

I looked at the window. It needed washing. I sighed.

I was boring.

I was very boring.

So I opened my wallet.

Go with the Goo, or Goowy.

Goowy is an online desktop that has everything you could need. Well, almost everything you need: desktop, minis (for little at-a-glance things like the Personalized Homepage on Google), Mail (with lots of providers), File Storage (one gig free), Contacts, Calender, Integrated IM for major providers, and lots of games when you want to relax.

It is an ideal thing for you and the rest of the world. For me, I set it as Active Desktop and added it as a Web thing and maximized it onto my desktop, removed and hid my icons, and then locked it. My desktop was now a goowy desktop.

The only con was that it didn’t have a biult in web browser. Well, I didn’t really expect it to. It runs INSIDE a browser, so there is abselutly no need for a biult in web browser. Other hope-they-will-do things are more IM providers (they’ve got AIM, Yahoo!, MSN, Goowy (their own), AOL, and GTalk) and maybe some fixed bugs.

Awesome thing. The name makes sense, even. Once you start using it and start sticking with it (or gooing with it) you will wonder how you lived without it.