beebies

the tomboy poodle, who we thought would forever delegate all responsibility and seriousness of life to her soulmate Molly, finally grew up.

Emma is doing great and never wants to leave the puppies sides (unless the doorbell rings, i guess some things are just too instinctive).

one girl, three boys. a fitting ratio.

ego-booster

so, if you can read my blog, be proud of yourself. i ran it through the "Blog Readability Test" and came up with this:

Movie Reviews

my previous blog from London came out College (Post Grad), so apparently i'm getting either more brilliant or more obtuse. or maybe its just the fact that my posts here are short and seldom . . . like an old wise man on whose words everyone hangs.

or maybe it just randomly chooses a level to play with peoples' minds.

revelation 7:9

Where the Hell is Matt? (2008) from Matthew Harding on Vimeo.

by request

My parents were going out of town this weekend, so can you guess what the first thing I did was?

If you said bought beer and invited all my friends over for a party, you must be high or someone who doesn't know me at all.

I made a list. A nice fatty one, I think about 13 items on it. All things that I wanted to get done by Saturday evening.

It included laundry, cleaning, homework for my missions class (a TON of homework I might say, final paper due next week), wrapping a mother's day present, returning books to the library, weeding in the backyard, exercising, etc.

At exactly 8:43pm, I finished them all. And then sat down to write this blog, just for Amanda. And it wasn't even on the list.

gauntlet

This quote appeared in the reading for my class this week:

"Do not pray for easy lives; pray to be stronger (wo)men. Do not pray for tasks to be equal to your powers; pray for powers equal to your tasks. Then the doing of your work shall be no miracle, but you shall be a miracle."

Did you really read that? Stop and read it through again.

This just blows me away. When I stop and think about all the things I pray for - I almost always come at it from other side: easy life, tasks equal to my powers, the miracle outside myself.

But he (Bishop Phillips Brooks) is right - what kind of testament is that?

I'd rather be the miracle.

unspeakables

She sweeps with many-colored brooms,
And leaves the shreds behind;
Oh, housewife in the evening west,
Come back, and dust the pond!

You dropped a purple ravelling in,
You dropped an amber thread;
And now you've littered all the East
With duds of emerald!

And still she plies her spotted brooms,
And still the aprons fly,
Till brooms fade softly into stars --
And then I come away.

- emily dickenson

visitors

we had a couple unexpected guests this morning.