A summer breeze is much better than a winter chill.

Soft as the fall of a beautiful thought,
Or a leaf on the stream,
White as the robe by purity wrought,
Bright as the flow of a dream.
Calm as a sleeping infant's breath,
Cold as the brow just touched by death,
Falleth in many a graceful wreath
Gently, the beautiful snow.

Caught like a robe on the leafless trees,
With diamonds in every fold;
Stepping like sprites where the fallen leaves
Mingle their brown and gold.
Covering over the graves of the flowers,
And those other graves where gems of ours
We laid away in summer hours,
Now resteth the gentle snow.

Falling to gladden the hearts of some,
With the joys it has in store;
Falling to chill, in the hovel home,
The souls of the suffering poor.
Melting to pearls on the brow of the glad,
Melting to tears on the cheek of the sad,
What gladdens the one, drives the other mad,
Oh! coldly beautiful snow.

Bright as the clouds where the sun goes down,
Is thy fall to the happy heart;
Cold as the world with its bitter frown,
To the child of woe thou art.
But if thy coming shall cheer or chill,
One hand yet gathers the winds at will,
And the eye of the Sleepless is watching still,
In pity, O, pitiless snow!

(Poem by Mary T. Lathrap. 1838-1895.)


Ah, snow. A product of Father Winter's chilling weather. Or, you know, rain that is too cold to be in the form of water. I'm sure the first one sounds way more deep, though. So we can stick with that.

Not to disrespect the corpse of Mary T. Lathrap, but I personally hate snow. The only thing I like about snow at this point is that it is a reason to get out of school. However, we have missed too much school and I personally don't want to still be attending school in June, when we usually get off in mid-May. Besides, it is Thursday! If this storm keeps up, I won't have much of a weekend. Why, snow? Why? Why must you make your grand entrance on a Thursday night intead of a Monday morning? Ah.

Oh yes, I forgot to mention. My hometown is getting pounded with snow and winter warnings right now. I am hoping that this is not a replica of the midwest's mighty blizzard in January. According to the weathergirl (yes, weathergirl) on channel 8, it won't be. I'm hoping she is right, but she's been wrong before. Those shifty weatherpeople can't always be trusted.

So as this snowstorm whites out the view beyond my window, I sit here at the computer (thankful that the power hasn't gone out and doesn't show any signs of doing so) and type. Between paragraphs I take time to text back my boyfriend, look over to the livingroom where some happy woman is winning some extra spending money on Wheel of Fortune on our television, and sniff the air to get a whiff of my requested dinner being cooked (biscuits and gravy, for I frequently enjoy having breakfast for dinner). Mmmm...smells pretty good.

I find it slightly funny that as soon as I typed those last few words, I was called for dinner. Not formally, of course. At my house being called for dinner means someone yells, "Food's ready!" But anyway, this has been yelled, in addition to my mother saying, "Katie. Go eat."

So I again say farewell and I will leave you with this advice: Don't eat the yellow snow.

Hugs and Peace Signs,
Katie

A brief introduction...

Hmmm...the first blog. I'm really not entirely sure which approach to take. Should I just jump right into a story, describe my day, or tell you a bit about myself? Well, I believe that if I reveal a few things about myself right now, it would lesson the questions people may have about me later. Sound good? Great.

First of all, I am a sixteen-year-old girl (hence, the name of the blog). I live in the midwest and am surrounded by small towns and family farms. Basically, my goal is to leave. I know that I have it pretty good here and I do realize that I am blessed with a supportive family and wonderful friends, but I am bored with the scenery and desperately want the experience of living on the coast or in a city. Anything but a small farm, please. However, this will have to wait.

By the way, I am warning my readers that I tend to skip around a lot. Most people would use the word "random" to describe how my brain works. Of course, there is always a thought process...I just don't always make it known. But, hey, it's me. Take it or leave it...I really don't give a s***.

Oh, yes. Next subject. I do curse quite a bit. I can't think of any curse words that really deeply offend me. I am a firm believer that cuss words can be as harmless as any other word. It is not what word you say, children, but how you use it. I'd much rather be called a motherf***** or a c*** than fat. But in case you haven't noticed my use of star symbols (I've forgotten the technical term for that character) I am planning on avoiding cussing in my blog. This may change, this may not. Who cares? My blog equals my rules...right?

Ahhh...I was hoping that I could lengthen this a lot more, but I think I'm about to go get ready for bed. I had to get up early for FBLA contest today, and I'll have to get up almost as early for an FFA breakfast in the morning. I am quite exhausted at this point, since I don't usually get the minimum ammount of sleep that is suggested in my health class. Not that I've really been striving to be the healthiest person, anyway. But whatever. I'm tired.

In order to tell you a bit about myself without taking up a lot of time, I will simply write a few things about me in choppy, undesirable sentences with virtually no artistic flow. Enjoy.

1. I play softball and run track.
2. I am involved in organizations such as FBLA and FFA (as indicated above).
3. I am a sophomore in highschool.
4. I am one of those people who like to read when I don't have to, but instantly hates any book that a teacher makes me read.
5. I have two brothers. One is in college, and one has graduated college.
6. I love rock music and somewhat like rap music. But I will pass on country music. Too twangy and whiney for yours truly.
7. I am a hypocritical tree hugger. What I mean is that I hate fur coats, love animals, but am a meatlover. I just can't give up hamburgers as much as I hate eating innocent cows. It helps that they taste delicious.

It seems like seven is a good number to stop on. It's supposed to be a lucky number or something, right?

Well. Close enough.

Anyway, I will have to say goodbye for a little while. Don't fret, nonexistant fans, for I will return.

Hugs and Peace Signs,
Katie