An Adventure to Remember- Prologue and Entry 1

The (mostly) true story of a missionary girl...

It was the beginning of their seventh year as missionaries. Autumn had fallen upon America. Mr. A. Wind began his blowing with gusto. The trees turned their leaves red and yellow as they aged. The apples ripened as Jack began to dance upon the ground, leaving frost in his wake.

 It was this that she left. 

The weather was warm, occasional downpours of rain outside and through slits in the roof it dripped. The hot capital, the cooler town. The slight breeze of Mr. S. Wind blew lightly. 

It was this that she came to. 

At Christmas time, she left and visited her grandparents. 

She spent her birthday with her cousins in February. 

She went back to the place in March, and there she has stayed till the point where our story begins. 

This is the story of a girl in a big family, in Central America, in the blue-green planet called Earth. 

And this is the adventure of her life. 

Entry 1

4/3/17

Meg has come to the devastating realization today that she is two years old. She was quite beside herself this morning arguing with Peter that she was seven.

She came down the stairs from our parents room in tears this afternoon having been told by dad she really was two.

We have finished watching all six seasons of Clone Wars for the seventh time, or somewhere around there.

The end of season 5 had us all in tears yet again.

The kids worked/played outside this afternoon and I wrote some more. I am trying to write a thousand words a day, and have been consistent so far.

I went to the “castle” and swept some, and then did half a dozen sorry excuses for a cartwheel.

It felt good to get my heart pumping double time and then taking a cold shower.

They watched half The Phantom Menace this afternoon, but I wrote a bit and commented on Sophia's blog twice I believe.

We ate frozen chocolate covered bananas. The chocolate was cheap and gross, and the banana slimy, but it was quite good and the day warm.

I chatted off and on with my cabinmates today. They are quite nice.

I beta read a story that was fantastic and that was quite nice too.

I ate a grasshopper and it was quite weird.

I discovered a dead tarantula in the walkway and thanked God it was not aquainted with my bare feet.

I helped mum make supper- for ONCE not forgetting it is my job.

I burnt my fingers a little in lighting the stove and on the toast.

I had to toast it on a large skillet. And it is so much funner to use your fingers instead of a fork or a spatula like a civilized human bean.

My fingers didn't quite see it that way.

Dad kindly pointed that out.

So I got a fork.

And then forgot to use it in my haste to save the burning ones. That back burner is quite hot.

We had spaghetti, in case you were wondering.

I am reading the Dark Lord of Derkholm by Diana Wynne Jones and basically it is PERFECTION.

My sisters and I sang the songs from Prince of Egypt with more or less the correct words.

Sometimes it went like: “Gleaming in the moonlight. *pant* *pant* something something alabaster stone, all I ever wanteeed. Sweet perfumes of incense. *pant* *pant* something else and I don't even know, All I ever wanteeed! This is my home! With my father, mother, brother, oh so noble oh so strong, aand if anybody doubts it they couldn't be more wroooong!!”

You get the picture?

It was fun.

We had night prayers and afterward I made sure I had enough pages of the book loaded to read.

We ate leftover ice cream from yesterday, which was slightly freezer burnt and Napoleon.

Yum?

Meh.

I finished reading aloud the chapter titled The Palantir and struggled, as always, with Pippin’s accent. What is it about that dude and his un-mimicable accent!!

Then we lounged in our bedroom. (Yes, all of us share a bedroom. Only two kids have to share beds!! It's great.)

We talked about Star Wars and my deep insights left them all gaping in wonder.

Then I decided to write this.

“We can get dirty, mom, just by running through the house.” Isaac says from his bed.

“Yes you can.” Mum replies from nursing Margaret.

“Hardly a superpower.” Someone remarks drily from her bed. (Hint: it was me)

No one answers this.

Now they are all asleep and I am going to read.

Goodnight.