<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887</id><updated>2012-02-11T01:45:43.510-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Bookstore</title><subtitle type='html'>Books for bookworms, happenings for wonderers, facts for everyone, and sometimes stories by me</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>157</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-8520125144222125911</id><published>2010-01-09T10:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-09T10:19:01.486-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins</title><content type='html'>In the ruins of Panem, the Capitol is surrounded by twelve districts. To ensure their loyalty, every year the Capitol picks two children from each district, forcing them to fight to the death. Katniss's sister, Prim, is chosen for District Twelve. Katniss knows that she is likely committing herself to die, but she steps forward to take Prim's place. Now, facing starvation and murder on live TV, Katniss has to make terrible choices, weighing love and survival.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amazing. Collins grips the reader on the first page and never lets them go, escalating the suspense with each chapter. Through the course of the story the contradicting emotions of love, sacrifice, and self-preservation are played against each other, making a statement about violence and humanity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-8520125144222125911?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/8520125144222125911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=8520125144222125911' title='35 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/8520125144222125911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/8520125144222125911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2010/01/hunger-games-by-suzanne-collins.html' title='The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>35</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-1655050275587804489</id><published>2009-12-02T12:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-02T12:13:50.042-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Lady in the Tower, by Jean Plaidy</title><content type='html'>Anne Boleyn grew up in the French court, observing the sophisticated ladies and learning how to catch eyes. She was then sent home to England, where she was expected to marry well and raise the family's standing. But she overcame obstacles and everyone's expectations, by earning the attention of King Henry VIII. Although Katherine of Aragorn's only flaw was a failing to produce princes, he set her aside in order to marry Anne, tearing church and country apart. Anne had risen high, but now she was caught in a trap of her own making, and after three years was imprisoned in the Tower of London.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Tudors are fascinating. Henry's fathers were commoners; Anne's father was only a country lord. It seems that those who rise the highest are those who have the farthest to fall. It's so sad- as told by this book, she didn't even love Henry, and for her he tore apart the country, and then threw her away for Jane Seymour. It's scary to think that even the queens are so unstable, and the kings have no thought but for themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jean Plaidy has written a lot of books about the Tudors and England, and is also known as Eleanor Hibbert, and Victoria Holt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-1655050275587804489?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/1655050275587804489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=1655050275587804489' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/1655050275587804489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/1655050275587804489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/12/lady-in-tower-by-jean-plaidy.html' title='The Lady in the Tower, by Jean Plaidy'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-4029079926863582769</id><published>2009-10-26T17:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-26T17:30:49.702-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shackleton's Stowaway</title><content type='html'>When Perce Blackborow decided to stowaway on Sir Ernest Shackleton's ship &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Endurance&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, he planned to be aboard as a sailor on a heroic quest across the Antarctic continent. When they are hundreds of miles from land, however, the ice moves in, slowly crushing the ship. The crew is stranded on ice, forced to make impossible treks, with all thought of adventuring gone. Now Perce is inextricably tied to Shackleton in a fight for their lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amazing. I vaguely knew about Shackleton's expedition, but not many of the things explored in this book. I have never had to kill something for food myself, or gone without more than one meal, or suffered from frostbite. It definitely made me appreciate my warm house and clothes and food a lot more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note: Though the book is fiction, there really was a Perce Blackborow who stowed away on the journey.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-4029079926863582769?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/4029079926863582769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=4029079926863582769' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/4029079926863582769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/4029079926863582769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/10/shackletons-stowaway.html' title='Shackleton&apos;s Stowaway'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-6442917046997521697</id><published>2009-09-23T15:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-23T16:09:00.830-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Posts in September! Wow!</title><content type='html'>A Walk in the Woods by Bill Bryson&lt;br /&gt;Bill Bryson is in his fifties: aging, overweight, and settled down. Instead of retiring, though, he does something he's wanted to do ever since he moved back across the pond: walk the Appalachian Trail, 2,100 miles from Georgia to Maine. Armed with a backpack, maps, and a lot of noodles, and accompanied by highschool friend Katz, Bryson sets off for a walk in the woods.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good. It made me wish that I hiked, and that i had the fortitude to try something that daunting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a Sunburned Country by Bill Bryson&lt;br /&gt;After writing about America and Europe, Bill Bryson flies to Australia. What follows is his account of the only country which is also a continent: a country with baking deserts and lush rainforests, a place with more lethal creatures than anywhere else, a land where everyone is friendly. Bryson travels across Australia, remarking on every detail, leaving one wishing to go Down Under.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daws: A Man Who Trusted God by Betty Lee Skinner&lt;br /&gt;Growing up in California in the early 1900s, Dawson Trotman was a liar and a gambler. Then, in one decision, his life was changed forever. Reversing completely, Daws began learning Scripture verses every day, witnessing to everyone he met, and organizing Christian groups. That eventually became the core of the Navigators organization: Scripture memory, witnessing, and prayer. Through his life, Dawson Trotman led thousands to belief in Jesus Christ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Convicting. I definitely don't read the Bible or pray or talk to people enough. Daws made me decide to re-start and re-dedicate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-6442917046997521697?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/6442917046997521697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=6442917046997521697' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/6442917046997521697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/6442917046997521697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/09/two-posts-in-september-wow.html' title='Two Posts in September! Wow!'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-3019686880123121878</id><published>2009-09-09T12:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T12:34:58.844-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Book Thief by Markus Zusak</title><content type='html'>When Liesel Meminger is nine, in the year 1939, she steals her first book. She is by her brother's grave; it is the &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Grave Digger's Handbook&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. So begins a love affair for words, nurtured by her foster father and the Jew hidden in the basement. While the world burns around her, Liesel takes books from wherever they may be found, trying to live through the war.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is one of the best-written books I have read for a long time. Zusak's prose burns with intensity, creating a deeply moving story about why we need books. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would love to hear what you think about this story. Contact me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-3019686880123121878?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3019686880123121878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=3019686880123121878' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/3019686880123121878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/3019686880123121878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/09/book-thief-by-markus-zusak.html' title='The Book Thief by Markus Zusak'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-2852264784401193433</id><published>2009-08-15T11:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T11:30:42.458-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Elizabeth by Sarah Baker</title><content type='html'>Written in 1996, this extensive history of Queen Elizabeth II covers Britain's royalty from Queen Victoria to Prince Charles. Elizabeth's father was unexpectedly made King when his brother, Edward VIII, abdicated, thus making Elizabeth the heir apparent. Through her long reign, the Queen has made her way through the aftermath of World War Two, the extensive restrictions placed on royalty under Margaret Thatcher, and the more recent scandals involving the Prince of Wales and Lady Diana Spencer. Queen Elizabeth is one of England's most beloved monarchs, remaining steadfast for her country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I admire the Queen's perseverance and calm throughout all sorts of trials, especially in family matters. Reading this book makes me grateful for the family that I have.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-2852264784401193433?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/2852264784401193433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=2852264784401193433' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/2852264784401193433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/2852264784401193433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/08/elizabeth-by-sarah-baker.html' title='Elizabeth by Sarah Baker'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-4050609223608430894</id><published>2009-05-25T16:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T19:20:08.537-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer Conference Books</title><content type='html'>Yay Summer Conference! We all had so much fun, it was great to be on the beach. However, since Laguna is a good sixteen hours, I had a lot of time to read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kristin Lavransdatter by Sigrid Undset, translated by Tiina Nunnally&lt;br /&gt;As a girl in thirteen-hundred Finland, Kristin loves her father dearly, and does all she can to please him. But while at a convent school away from home she meets the dashing Erlend Nikulausson, and in sweeping defiance she marries him. They have seven sons, and try to be faithful to each other as the world tumbles into uncertainty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This book won the Nobel Prize in Literature, and for good reason. It is justifiably regarded as super-slow and -long. But while most stories focus on the winning of the prince, most of Kristin Lavransdatter takes place after her marriage as she lives out her life with Erlend. This book makes you think about the consequences of the smallest actions, the shortest words, and how quickly our lives can become tangled and splintered. Read this book.&lt;br /&gt;NOTE: The paperback 2005 edition's cover is much cooler, enough to tip the balance!&lt;br /&gt;-----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christianity's Dangerous Idea by Alister McGrath&lt;br /&gt;From medieval Lutheranism to modern Pentecostalism, all Protestant churches are based on the same idea: that one can interpret the Bible for oneself. This has caused arguments, denomination splits, wars, and is the core of the Post-Reformation Protestant Church. McGrath explores the people and ideas that still cause debate across the worldwide Church today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically a history of the church after 1500, plus theological arguments.&lt;br /&gt;----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Beautiful Mind by Sylvia Nasar&lt;br /&gt;Great things were in store for John Nash. A brilliant and pioneering mathematician who developed the game theory, algebraic geometry, and nonlinear theory, fields as wide-ranging as imaginary spaces, prime numbers, economics, and computer science all fascinated him. But when he was thirty he began slipping, eventually descending into schizophrenia that would give him a divorce, lovers, an illegitimate son and a mad one, and make him an outcast to many of his peers. Yet, through his ex-wife and the loyalty of friends, he rose from the ashes and won world fame. This is his story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The person who stood out to me most was his ex-wife, Alicia. She had no obligation to him, was in fact often frightened of him, but she was the one who was most devoted supporter. She helped pay for his treatments, the damages, and his everyday needs. It is a great thing to have a devoted friend in the first place, but Alicia Nash surpasses most.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-4050609223608430894?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/4050609223608430894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=4050609223608430894' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/4050609223608430894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/4050609223608430894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/05/summer-conference-books.html' title='Summer Conference Books'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-2576630247444773578</id><published>2009-04-21T17:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T18:29:52.715-07:00</updated><title type='text'>library books! and others!</title><content type='html'>Fallout, by Trudy Krisher&lt;br /&gt;Gen lives in the conservative beach town of Easton, North Carolina, in the midst of the peak of anti-communism McCarthyism and the most active hurricane season until 2005. Into her little world comes the ultra-liberal Wompers family, and she becomes Brenda Wompers's best friend. Forced to take sides during controversies that tear the town in half, Gen battles natural and social disasters, when the reunion must be caused by something as violent as a hurricane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I live in a world where greenhouse gases might kill us in a few hundred years. Gen lived in fear of a nuclear explosion at any time, not to mention constant devastation by hurricanes. It is amazing that she was able to choose to love Brenda in spite of their differences, in spite of the fact that most of the town then branded her a communist. We should think harder about commitments that strong.&lt;br /&gt;----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Swimming to Antartica: Tales of a Long-Distance Swimmer by Lynne Cox&lt;br /&gt;At the age of nine, Lynne Cox swam for three hours during a freezing hailstorm, by her choice. Then, after swimming twenty-six miles across the Catalina Channel, winning multiple long-distance races, going around the Cape of Good Hope, and breaking the record across the English Channel at age fifteen, Cox decided that, during the Cold War, she would try to swim the Bering Strait. Big and Little Diomede, one Soviet and one American, stood across the border from each other less than three miles apart. The swim would be a peace-making gesture and research on swimming. After swimming the Strait and helping break the Iron Curtain, Cox set her sites on something even more outrageous: swimming to Antartica.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inspiring. As a swimmer, it is especially motivating to me, but I think that anyone would be excited by reading this book. Cox was told when she was nine that she could swim the English Channel, and six years later she not only did it, but broke a record! And, involving even more resolution, she spent nine years trying to swim the Bering Strait. What is she doing now? What involves more than swimming for hours in thirty-four degree water?&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Greetings from Planet Earth by Barbara Kerley&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Meyer asks Theo's class what makes earth special as the Voyager II is sent into space. This simple question changes Theo's life. Is it people? Is it animals? Is it art? Family? Technology? While he is trying to finish his assignment, Theo questions his home life. His father has been MIA in Vietnam for five years, and suddenly everything changes, and Theo wonders why his dad went to Vietnam in the first place, why he didn't come home, and most importantly, where he is now. In a year shaped by the golden record, Theo finds what makes us special.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's one thing to have to deal with losing your dad, but then to find out he could have come back for five years?! Theo makes me realize how important family is.&lt;br /&gt;----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blink: the Power of Thinking Without Thinking by Malcolm Gladwell&lt;br /&gt;In Blink, Gladwell tries to answer three propositions: that decisions made quickly may be just as good as those made deliberately; that when such rapid thinking goes wrong, it is for a specific reason; and that first impressions and spontaneous decisions may be controlled. Thus, we learn why a man knew that a Greek statue was a fake immediately, even though it had been declared good by all the experts. We learn that on racial-bias tests a man who associated blacks with guns much faster than whites with guns was able to change his score drastically by thinking of Martin Luther King, Jr. and Nelson Mandela beforehand. Gladwell shows us that, as in the case of the Greek 'kouros', snap decisions may be made accurately, and, even more importantly, our wrong judgements that we make unconsciously can be changed by a few simple steps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of these tests are scary. I don't think I'm racist, but even Gladwell, who is half Jamaican, scored badly on that test. I often think that instant decisions are of less value than considered ones, but often those spontaneous things come from a deeper level of our self, so quickly that we are unable to rationalize them. But we CAN change. Thinking of brilliant black people makes our tests agree with something we know to be true. Training policemen to have better instincts causes less bystander deaths. Screening orchestra auditions allows for a sudden equalization of genders in music. This is good news! Act on it! Read this book!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-2576630247444773578?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/2576630247444773578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=2576630247444773578' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/2576630247444773578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/2576630247444773578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/04/library-books-and-others.html' title='library books! and others!'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-5931720846695738765</id><published>2009-02-21T14:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-21T14:42:10.759-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ultramarathon Man by Dean Karnazes</title><content type='html'>Dean Karnazes has a wife, a daughter. He has friends and a good job. He ran when he was in highschool, but that was fifteen years ago. Then one night he gets up and runs from San Francisco to Half Moon Bay- thirty miles, with no training and no forethought. After that, Karnazes is hooked. Soon he's running marathons before breakfast, running in his lunch breaks, and again after work. He signs up for the Western States Endurance Run (100 miles), for Badwater (135 through Death Valley), and for a marathon at the South Pole. Through his running, his family comes closer together and find common ground in supporting him. His is a tale of the heart: courage, love, and determination to push on when everyone else has stopped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow. My dad read this first, and gushed about it to everyone else. One by one my mom, brother, and uncle, all runners, read it, and joined in the praise. I was more skeptical. Not being a runner, the idea of someone running 100 miles was cool, but eh. But I read it, and I too was sucked in. It's not really so much about running as it's about getting over tragedy, loving family, and astounding perseverance. It made me try to work harder at school, swimming, and music, along with everything else. You should read this, even if you're not a runner.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-5931720846695738765?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5931720846695738765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=5931720846695738765' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/5931720846695738765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/5931720846695738765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/02/ultramarathon-man-by-dean-karnazes.html' title='Ultramarathon Man by Dean Karnazes'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-672608470078786980</id><published>2009-01-31T07:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T15:37:43.232-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Outsiders: the Story of Success by Malcolm Gladwell</title><content type='html'>Usually success stories begin with the poor, down-on-luck person who, though faced with daunting obstacles, rise above the common man and become the elite. They pull themselves up by their bootstraps and eventually make it. But Gladwell digs deeper: he looks at the similarities between Bill Gates, Bill Joy, and the Beatles; why Korean Air suffered so many crashes and then turned itself around; and what successful New York lawyers have in common. He sees why the world's smartest man never finished college. He sees that peoples' environments, culture, and, more importantly, what they do with these things, are what make true outliers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't really get the point of this book until I talked with Dad, who had already read it. I thought that the message was that these successful people were given unexpected advantages, and that's what made them. That's true, but it's not all: Bill Gates was given the advantage of a world-class computer lab in middle school, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;and he took it.&lt;/span&gt; He spent every spare moment in that lab, and as a result had the know-how to created Microsoft. &lt;br /&gt;It hits home. In almost everything, I am either good enough to get by or do just enough work to make it. I rarely 'work hard'. Even if I had the highest IQ on the planet, if I keep it up I might be just like Chris Langan, who could have had a Ph.D at seventeen but didn't persevere. &lt;br /&gt;There is hope, though. After all, Korean Air, after nearly closing down, is now a respected airline. It was terrible, but the crews and pilots took the time to figure out their problems and work really hard at fixing them. I'm trying to keep this mindset, and hopefully it will lead to a better, more God-centered, more 'successful' me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-672608470078786980?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/672608470078786980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=672608470078786980' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/672608470078786980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/672608470078786980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2009/01/outsiders-story-of-success-by-malcolm.html' title='Outsiders: the Story of Success by Malcolm Gladwell'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-8556285958209877728</id><published>2008-12-25T14:59:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-25T15:08:54.855-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tanglewreck by Jeannette Winterson</title><content type='html'>Silver is kept locked up in her house, Tanglewood, by her cruel guardian Mrs. Rokebye. Her parents and sister have disappeared, she doesn't get enough to eat, and she is always watched by Mrs. Rokebye's rabbit, Bigamist. The only thing that keeps her going is the house, Tanglewreck, which sometimes talks to her.&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly the world goes wrong. Time isn't what it used to be- or perhaps it will not be what it is, or it isn't what it will be. People are disappearing, flung across time and space, and the only thing that can set things right is the Timekeeper, which Silver is supposed to have. Only two other unscrupulous persons want it very badly, and they are prepared to do anything to get it, sending Silver into a wild journey to save Time... and the world itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good. Time is a confusing thing to write, and writing it suddenly opens the story up to countless possibilities. I read of Queen Elizabeth, the Prime Minister, Jamaica, black holes, wormholes, both Vaticans, and London, all of which happened in the space of a few days. Winterson managed it very well; I was completely caught up in the story. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Merry Christmas!! Yay for presents from Barnes and Noble!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-8556285958209877728?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/8556285958209877728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=8556285958209877728' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/8556285958209877728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/8556285958209877728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2008/12/tanglewreck-by-jeannette-winterson.html' title='Tanglewreck by Jeannette Winterson'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-4270711513189767425</id><published>2008-11-17T11:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T18:36:17.207-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shakespeare by Bill Bryson</title><content type='html'>William Shakespeare, author of a considerable portion of Elizabethan and Jacobean drama, is largely an enigma. He was born to John Shakespeare, married, had a few children, wrote lots of plays, and died. Follow Bill Bryson as he tries to sort fact from fiction, truth from legend, and uncover the Bard of Avon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interesting. It seems odd that we have most of Shakespeare's work yet next to nothing on &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;him.&lt;/span&gt; We have &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Macbeth&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Twelfth Night&lt;/span&gt; and the sonnets, but we don't even know what the man looked like. If he was such a favorite of the Crown why did he never have a portrait done? Consequently, hundreds of people have dedicated their lives to attempt to uncover such mundane things as where he spent half of his life, where he learned a lot of his background information, what happened to some of his plays, what order the plays were written, and if they were even written by Shakespeare. As Bryson says, the lack of information is what makes his book so small.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-4270711513189767425?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/4270711513189767425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=4270711513189767425' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/4270711513189767425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/4270711513189767425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2008/11/shakespeare-by-bill-bryson.html' title='Shakespeare by Bill Bryson'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-7981808215942203525</id><published>2008-11-03T18:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T18:33:58.437-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Inkdeath by Cornelia Funke (sequel to Inkheart and Inkspell)</title><content type='html'>Angered by the book Mo has bound for the Adderhead that has made the Adderhead immortal, Death gives Mo a bargain: if he destroys the book and kills the Adderhead before spring, he will be allowed to live and his friend Dustfinger will return. If he fails, he, his daughter Meggie, and Dustfinger will all die. It seems easy to slip into the Adderhead's chambers and destroy him and the book, but Mo is the famed robber Bluejay, with a price on his head. The Adderhead will do anything to kill him, his family, and all whom he holds dear. Can he and Meggie read the right words, as they did before in Inkheart and Inkspell, and end the fear and threat?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good. It was like the fifth and sixth Harry Potters, though: a good read, one I would read again and recommend, but mostly tying up loose ends- and creating more- that were left by the first two books. Sure Meggie's choice between Farid and Doria is interesting, but is it important? Sure the Magpie's revenge is scary, but is it necessary? If Funke doesn't set a limit and an overarching problem for the books, it will become a large, rather boring series.&lt;br /&gt;Not to mention the whole Death thing. Interesting- is it possible to cheat Death? Can people die twice and &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;still&lt;/span&gt; be alive?- but perhaps it's something best left alone. Nobody knows what it's like- too bad Lazarus didn't write things down- and it would be awfully easy to convey the wrong idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) is in the twentieth hour of its third day, with 5649 words!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-7981808215942203525?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7981808215942203525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=7981808215942203525' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/7981808215942203525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/7981808215942203525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2008/11/inkdeath-by-cornelia-funke-sequel-to.html' title='Inkdeath by Cornelia Funke (sequel to Inkheart and Inkspell)'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-7420209016593221036</id><published>2008-10-18T07:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-18T08:01:03.774-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Library Book-es</title><content type='html'>Runaway by Wendelin Van Draanen&lt;br /&gt;Abused by several foster families, Holly decides to run away. Her journal tells of jumping trains, sleeping in boxes, and eating trash, and she pours out her anger as poems. She trusts no one, not even the kindly woman who hands out food or the girl who tries to help. But Holly is lonely, and people offer her their home. Can she forget her anger and learn to trust them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't imagine having to find my food and clothes and shelter. I've never experienced anything like that, and at the very least I would become bitter and disillusioned. My family is supposed to help me, but they're gone. The state handed me to other families who were supposed to help by they starved me and locked me up. It's a salvation story: you've hit rock bottom, and someone inexplicably helps you up and carries you on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Crown of Dalemark by Diana Wynne Jones&lt;br /&gt;Mitt, accused of murder in the South, has fled North, only to find himself ordered to assassinate the heir to the throne. If he refuses, the lives of his friends are in danger. He joins  Moril the musician, Maewen, who has been kidnapped from the future to replace the heir apparent, in their quest to bring peace to Dalemark. But the evil of Kankredin is gathering, and it seems that none of them, or Dalemark, can escape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time travel is always hard to sort out, and if the person in question must also play the part of another person, it can quickly become chaotic. This is Jones's style. Her other books seem similarly scattered, but once the ending has been read twice the general feeling is of liking. Jones's descriptions are very powerful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-----&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.nanowrimo.org/"&gt;National Novel Writing Month&lt;/a&gt; starts in thirteen days!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-7420209016593221036?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7420209016593221036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=7420209016593221036' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/7420209016593221036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/7420209016593221036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2008/10/library-book-es.html' title='Library Book-es'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-1451424478713323287</id><published>2008-10-03T15:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T16:07:49.242-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Same Kind of Different As Me by Ron Hall, Denver Moore, and Vincent Lynn</title><content type='html'>Denver grew up in a rural Louisiana shack, working for the Man to pay off his ancestor's 'debts'. Then, one day he jumped a train to Fort Worth and lived on the streets until he found himself at a dingy mission. &lt;br /&gt;Ron Hall was an international art dealer used to high-line clothes, cars, and checks. But his wife, Debbie, felt called to help the unfortunate, and she signed them up to volunteer at a homeless mission on Tuesdays, despite Ron's protests. Debbie soon endeared herself to everyone at the mission, and Ron reluctantly found himself drawing closer to Denver. Their friendship and faith, however, would soon be tested by heartbreaking tragedy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you don't know anything- if you can't read, write, and are in the middle of nowhere- how do you know you are in slavery? There's something of a double meaning in this book: Ron was trapped by his false sense of superiority, and unable to embrace his friends until he lost everything. The old paradox Die to Live. In the same way, Denver was trapped by decades of racism, and we're trapped in sin. But, as a Longfellow poem we read recently in Lit says, there's light behind the clouds, even if we can't see it. Denver and Ron worked through their differences and became as close as brothers, and we can do the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom and Dad are out of town; we're being watched by Anna The Intern, who is being called Ellen. She brought the &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Sword and the Stone&lt;/span&gt; for us to watch. As &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;The Once and Future King&lt;/span&gt; is one of my favorite books, it's exciting. There is also cookie baking happening.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-1451424478713323287?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/1451424478713323287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=1451424478713323287' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/1451424478713323287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/1451424478713323287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2008/10/same-kind-of-different-as-me-by-ron.html' title='Same Kind of Different As Me by Ron Hall, Denver Moore, and Vincent Lynn'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-4305665557869731541</id><published>2008-09-13T10:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T10:39:17.979-07:00</updated><title type='text'>At Last! or, Dragon Slippers by Jessica Day George</title><content type='html'>Sorry about the delay. Our desktop is down and I couldn't post on the laptops until now. It would have been cool if I could say At last! One year later..., but I'll have to settle with Has it really been twenty-eight days?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dragon Slippers by Jessica Day George&lt;br /&gt;In fairy tales, the maiden is always saved from a dragon by a knight in shining armor. But it is Creel who saves herself with her own quick thinking, and gets a gift from the dragon's hoard in the bargain: a pair of magic slippers. Creel goes to the city to get a job at a dress-makers, and her slippers constantly attract attention- from a co-worker all the way up to the crown-prince's spoiled fiancee, Amalia. When the slippers are stolen and a war looms, Creel must use her skills and brains to save her country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A good story. In Andrew Lang's fairy tales, the maiden is helpless, dependent on the dueling abilities of a prince. Dragon Slippers was a happy medium between that and the modern stories where the princess cuts off the dragon's head herself. That's one side of the feminist movement that I don't appreciate: empowering women are ones who are beautiful and buff; Creel is plain but smart, and she is the one who saves the day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-4305665557869731541?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/4305665557869731541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=4305665557869731541' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/4305665557869731541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/4305665557869731541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2008/09/at-last.html' title='At Last! or, Dragon Slippers by Jessica Day George'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-3614401845845262289</id><published>2008-07-17T17:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T17:46:07.136-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Travel/ Summer Reading Part I</title><content type='html'>What a summer! It's been way too long since May 27th, and there are a lot of books to report.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First up is &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Les Miserables&lt;/span&gt; by Victor Hugo. I only took a couple books on the forty-ish round-trip up to Michigan, in the hope that it would keep me a long time. This expectation was fulfilled. It was great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imprisoned for stealing bread, Jean Valjean escapes bitter and despairing. An attempted robbery leads to his means of salvation: a little girl, Cossette. The two are thrust into a battle of good and evil. They are tracked by the idealist Javert and the swindler Thenardier and Cossette's suitor Marius, the tensions coming to the breaking point in the uprising of 1832.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The making of a two-sided hero is Hugo's genius. Jean is the beloved philanthropist, yet he cannot bear to let Cossette go. He lives in a paradox: he must have a happy Cossette near, yet being kept by his side makes her unhappy. Jean is the villain and the saint. &lt;br /&gt;Such men seem to appear often in Hugo's world. Marius is great, yet he deliberately tyrannizes his grandfather. Javert has a conscience, so he ruthlessly pursues Jean. I wonder if Hugo saw men as they really are: we all have contrary, hypocritical desires, though we all lean toward the bad. Without divine intervention, we all end up like Thenardier. Perhaps this was why Hugo was a revolutionist: the utopia promised by Napoleon seemed like it would make everyone more like the bishop who saved Jean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee&lt;br /&gt;Scout Finch lives in a quiet Alabama town. She goes to school and hates it; wrestles with her brother Jem; and creeps around the local haunted house with her friend Dill. But one summer the town is divided by a seemingly simple legal matter: a black man has been accused by a white man. Unexpectedly, things weren't as simple as they seemed. Family and friends are suddenly more important than they seemed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A classic. To me, things like that seem obvious: Tom Robinson is a good man, and the Ellers are notoriously bad. Robinson wins the case. I guess it should have been obvious to them as well, but no one thought that way. To try and make a change through all that prejudice and bad feeling would have been mind-boggling. I hope I can do something as needed and life-changing as Mr. Atticus Finch pleading for Tom Robinson.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-3614401845845262289?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3614401845845262289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=3614401845845262289' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/3614401845845262289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/3614401845845262289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2008/07/travel-summer-reading-part-i.html' title='Travel/ Summer Reading Part I'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-6360517166632514559</id><published>2008-05-27T09:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T09:17:08.601-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Man Who Was Thursday by G.K. Chesterton</title><content type='html'>Gabriel Syme, recently made a philosopher-policeman, finds himself at a meeting for a group of anarchists headed by the enigmatic Sunday. He is unexpectedly made Thursday, and is involved in a plot to bomb the Czar and the President of the French Republic. However, before he was taken to the meeting, he was made to swear that he would not reveal the group to the police, and when he attempts to frustrate the plot himself the story grows increasingly fantastic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chesterton said, "You've got that eternal idiotic idea that if anarchy came if would come from the poor. Why should it? The poor have been rebels, but they have never been anarchists; they have more interest than anyone else in there being some decent government. The poor have sometimes objected to being governed badly; the rich object have always objected to being governed at all."&lt;br /&gt;In this story the opposition comes from the seemingly innocent and stupid; and the friends are those who seem to be anarchists. Syme's world is continually turned upside down.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-6360517166632514559?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/6360517166632514559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=6360517166632514559' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/6360517166632514559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/6360517166632514559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2008/05/man-who-was-thursday-by-gk-chesterton.html' title='The Man Who Was Thursday by G.K. Chesterton'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-4682679987004695550</id><published>2008-05-23T10:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-23T10:30:09.729-07:00</updated><title type='text'>On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness by Andrew Peterson</title><content type='html'>The evil Fangs of Dang are looking for the Jewels of Anniera that were lost when Anniera fell. Their leader, the ruthless Gnag the Nameless, is desperate to find them, and he seems to think that the small Igiby family has them. Janner, Tink, and Leeli, and their dog Nugget are plunged into a series of adventures with the Fangs, Peet the Sock Man, and toothy cows that will change them forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andrew Peterson has a knack for coupling scary things with funny ones. Who wouldn't smile at the paradox of Gnag the Nameless, even though he sends the Black Carriage that carries people to their inevitable doom? Isn't the idea of toothy cows funny, even though their fangs enable them to eat people? These pairings keep the book from becoming a horror story, yet they're not over the top. It's still serious. Peterson has written a very good book that walks a thin line between scary and comedy.&lt;br /&gt;Peterson also has a really good CD out called &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Behold the Lamb of God: The True Tall Tale of the Coming of Christ.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-4682679987004695550?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/4682679987004695550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=4682679987004695550' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/4682679987004695550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/4682679987004695550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2008/05/on-edge-of-dark-sea-of-darkness-by.html' title='On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness by Andrew Peterson'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-4015969159942601460</id><published>2008-05-21T09:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-21T09:34:26.481-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Anne of Green Gables by L.M. Montgomery</title><content type='html'>When Anne Shirley comes to them by mistake, Marilla and Matthew Cuthbert of Green Gables in Avonlea are hesitant to keep her. However, Anne soon charms everyone she meets with her imagination, vocabulary, and enjoyment of everything. Despite tragedy and  misunderstandings, Anne grows from a dreamy girl into a beautiful, loving woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hooray! I've read it, and liked it much better than the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Children's Abridged&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt; version&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;I might have said this in my last post, but Anne reminds me a lot of myself. I think we'd be kindred spirits, and it's much more fun to read a book if you could be reading about yourself. Though Anne's grudge toward Gilbert seems contrary to the rest of the book. She's very forgiving the rest of the time.&lt;br /&gt;Some classics are only 'classics' because they're old and written by people who wrote other old and likewise boring stuff. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Anne of Green Gables &lt;/span&gt;is neither old nor boring. In other words, Read this book!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indeed, Krammy- &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;cnict &lt;/span&gt;is  kkkk-nickt, with an almost nonexistant T.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-4015969159942601460?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/4015969159942601460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=4015969159942601460' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/4015969159942601460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/4015969159942601460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2008/05/anne-of-green-gables-by-lm-montgomery.html' title='Anne of Green Gables by L.M. Montgomery'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-7680292752917816875</id><published>2008-05-20T06:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T06:37:26.851-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Before Green Gables by Budge Wilson</title><content type='html'>My grandmother gave me this book when she was here last weekend. Upon looking at it, I realized that I had never read the real &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Green Gables. &lt;/span&gt;I read this book and plan to read the others soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Before Green Gables: &lt;/span&gt;When Anne Shirley's parents die within a week of each other from consumption, Anne is sent to foster home after foster home, eventually ending up in an orphanage. What keeps her going is her imagination: friends like Violetta and Katie Maurice, words such as &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;exquisite &lt;/span&gt;and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;absolutely, &lt;/span&gt;and her unfailing belief that one day some one will love her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very good. As a person with red hair and freckles, I had fun reading about Anne, but I can't imagine having such a life. It says something about you, that your imagination and love survived during hard times with everyone hating you. I wish I were like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School's out!&lt;br /&gt;Already I don't know what to do: there's just so much &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-7680292752917816875?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7680292752917816875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=7680292752917816875' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/7680292752917816875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/7680292752917816875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2008/05/before-green-gables-by-budge-wilson.html' title='Before Green Gables by Budge Wilson'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-3618376720102773006</id><published>2008-04-17T13:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T14:02:58.928-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Puns</title><content type='html'>I thought of a cool pun the other day.&lt;br /&gt;The thought process goes like this: In Old English, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;cnict &lt;/span&gt;means boy. It's where we get our modern &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;knight. &lt;/span&gt;I like knights. But &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;cnict &lt;/span&gt;sounds like &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;knit, &lt;/span&gt;and I like knitting. I could be a cnictter.&lt;br /&gt;See the cnittion?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More wordplay: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;sumus,  &lt;/span&gt;which is the first plural of the to be verb, is a palindrome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a lot of time on my hands.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-3618376720102773006?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3618376720102773006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=3618376720102773006' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/3618376720102773006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/3618376720102773006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2008/04/puns.html' title='Puns'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-844669166829021370</id><published>2008-04-17T13:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T06:30:14.167-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Eagle of the Ninth by Rosemary Sutcliff</title><content type='html'>Fifteen years ago, the Ninth Legion of the Roman Empire marched past Hadrian's Wall and disappeared. Marcus's father was the Legion's Centurion. Marcus, discharged from the army by a wound, finds himself wondering more and more what happened to the Legion. He and a friend journey to the north to find the Legion, Marcus's father, and the eagle of the Ninth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good. I always enjoy stories with Celts, and this was particularly well done. Sutcliff must have researched incredibly hard for all the details. But I wondered how Esta felt about taking the eagle from the tribes. I mean, it was their battle emblem that gave them the courage to go fight the Romans. As a Celt, wouldn't Esta have wanted to let it stay there so that his people would win?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry it's been so long.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-844669166829021370?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/844669166829021370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=844669166829021370' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/844669166829021370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/844669166829021370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2008/04/eagle-of-ninth-by-rosemary-sutcliff.html' title='The Eagle of the Ninth by Rosemary Sutcliff'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-478232748791949407</id><published>2008-03-26T18:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-26T18:52:33.090-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas</title><content type='html'>The Count of Monte Cristo: Edmond Dantes is accused of being a Bonapartist by three jealous friends, and is sent to the eerie Chateau D'If for life. At If there is also an abbe called Faria, who over ten years has dug a tunnel connecting the two cells. Faria mentors Dantes, provides him with the means of escape and puts in him an all-consuming passion for revenge on his betrayers. After fourteen years at If, Dantes resurfaces, now as the rich and enigmatic Count of Monte Cristo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a creepy book, but wonderful because of it. Monte Cristo is mysterious and disgustingly rich and has several pseudonyms all at the same time and is amazingly foresighted in his revenge. He is a hero, but sometimes I was unsure- to want to kill Mercedes's son Albert because he was Fernand's son as well? But he loves Mercedes! And then to want to kill himself because he swore he wouldn't kill Albert? Heroic to eventually refuse to duel, but cowardly to say your honor's gone. Needless to say, Monte Cristo is far more complicated than most protagonists. I vote that we start writing them like that- no victories are clear-cut; no one is exactly who he seems to be; everyone is mad and despairing: yet it ends well and satisfying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is not a good idea to read a book that requires lots of special letters in the report- accented Es, arrowed Is- and has its names in a language that is not spelled as it sounds. Someone please tell me if any of this is spelled wrong!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-478232748791949407?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/478232748791949407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=478232748791949407' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/478232748791949407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/478232748791949407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2008/03/count-of-monte-cristo-by-alexandre.html' title='The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-4914301173569565090</id><published>2008-02-29T16:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-29T17:03:59.720-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life As We Knew It by Susan Pfeffer</title><content type='html'>The report is that an asteroid will hit the moon, making a nice view for sky-watchers. But when the rock hits, it is far larger than expected, and blasts the moon much closer to earth. Things go horribly, drastically wrong. The tides are disrupted, causing tsunamis; the change in pressure causes long-dormant volcanoes to erupt, blocking out the sun. Miranda and her family struggle to survive and find what can save them: hope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very good. A great pulling of a horrible, fantastical-yet-possible occurrence and real people. It was so sad. Very few books make me close to crying and thinking so hard like this: what would I do if that happened? Would I be able to give up so much? Would I keep hope and faith in face of death? The questions you don't think about often, and try not to when you do. Good questions. Read this book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I'm not mistaken, pfeffer means 'spices'. Susan Spice. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Leap Day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-4914301173569565090?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/4914301173569565090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=4914301173569565090' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/4914301173569565090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/4914301173569565090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2008/02/life-as-we-knew-it-by-susan-pfeffer.html' title='Life As We Knew It by Susan Pfeffer'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-1921317911900906910</id><published>2008-02-26T14:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-26T16:00:56.798-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Scoop by Rene Gutteridge</title><content type='html'>At Channel 7 News, an intriguing news story turns the station upside down. The executive producer takes more Blue Pills- until they disappear and he cracks; cautious Ray returns to the house of the man who attacked him; the anchorwoman disappears mysteriously; and Hayden Hazard prays in public. When disaster threatens, can Channel 7 pull through?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interesting. It was confusing at first- until the very end it seems like the whole book has been random facts. I thought that Hayden was a little overdone...but perhaps that was the point. Be bold and tell everyone about your faith, what you think. Do things you're not comfortable with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A good quote from the book: burp the Tupperware = seal the deal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-1921317911900906910?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/1921317911900906910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=1921317911900906910' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/1921317911900906910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/1921317911900906910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2008/02/scoop-by-rene-gutteridge.html' title='Scoop by Rene Gutteridge'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-1238608829344125034</id><published>2008-01-30T08:33:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-30T09:20:31.338-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ender's Game Revised</title><content type='html'>Ender Wiggin is the hero the world has been waiting for. He is smart, hurting, a Third, and a leader. And the world needs a hero: the aliens, called buggers, are preparing for the Third Invasion, and to stop them they must be completely annihilated. Ender is sent to the Battle School when he is six, where he trains with other children. They live to fight. When he is twelve, he is sent to Command School. He thinks he is merely playing games on the simulator, but what he is really doing is fighting the buggers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ender is a very interesting character. He used to be afraid and lonely, but they turned the fear into hatred. He turned into Peter. But is this good or bad? The world doesn't mind; he killed the buggers, but the buggers were never the enemy. Possible Hypothesis #1- the buggers are simply weak antagonists. #2- Ender is his own enemy. #3- Card didn't like the social system and wanted it to be communist. #2 is most likely in my mind. Perhaps the ending is his trying to redeem himself- he certainly didn't like being tricked into killing the buggers.&lt;br /&gt;Please help me out on this. I'm confused. It seemed like such a simple story.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-1238608829344125034?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/1238608829344125034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=1238608829344125034' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/1238608829344125034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/1238608829344125034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2008/01/enders-game-revised.html' title='Ender&apos;s Game Revised'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-4594675579410728273</id><published>2008-01-12T10:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-12T11:04:38.429-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card</title><content type='html'>Ender Wiggin has been destined since birth to go to the Battle School, where an army of children prepares to fight the buggers. Six years old when he arrives, he is quickly moved up with older and older boys, always fighting, training. He becomes a killer machine that will defeat the buggers once and for all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very violent, but interesting at the same time. Demosthenes and Locke were amazing, but the buggers weren't good bad guys. It seemed like they were suppposed to be the enemy, but sometimes Ender himself was. His own worst enemy. I couldn't figure it out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-4594675579410728273?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/4594675579410728273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=4594675579410728273' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/4594675579410728273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/4594675579410728273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2008/01/enders-game-by-orson-scott-card.html' title='Ender&apos;s Game by Orson Scott Card'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-6349503869854936357</id><published>2007-12-29T18:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-03T06:18:40.720-08:00</updated><title type='text'>triple play</title><content type='html'>Murder on Baker Street by various authors&lt;br /&gt;Sherlock Holmes lives! Resurrected by renowned mystery authors, there are eleven new stories, with vampires, mysterious kidnappings, and treasure hunters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good. Some stories were definately better-written than others, and some picked up Doyle's style better than others. Such as &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;A &lt;/span&gt;Hansom for Mr. Holmes&lt;/span&gt;, which is told from a cabbie's point of view and is never clear on what the actual problem &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;is.&lt;/span&gt;  This, of course, is not good. But that was only one story; all the rest were clear and kept me guessing!&lt;br /&gt;--------&lt;br /&gt;The Book of the Dun Cow by Walter Wangerin, Jr.&lt;br /&gt;Chauntecleer the Rooster rules over a Coop in a small corner of the world. Unbeknownst to him, he is a keeper of Wyrm, a gigantic, oozing serpent locked in the middle of the earth. But Wyrm has a plan, and he creates thousands of basilisks and a Cockatrice, and Chauntecleer and his kingdom must fight for the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know the story sounds stupid, but it was really a very good book. Chauntecleer was very nice to read about; he was a very full-formed character and didn't contradict himself.&lt;br /&gt;------------&lt;br /&gt;God's Messengers: the Making of the King James Bible by Adam Nicolson&lt;br /&gt;When King James succeeds Queen Elizabeth as ruler of England, he comes into a country  torn by religion. There are the Catholics, who attempt to return the country to Rome; and Anglicans, who are the favorites; and the Separatists, whom no one likes and eventually flee the country. James' dream was peace, and so he commissioned a peace-making Bible that would shape the world and be the standard for the rest to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good. It was really interesting, how all those really different men- Puritan and Anglican and atheist- were really determined to make peace, and they made a beautiful book. It's really almost like poetry. It made me compare it to my NIV, and despite the easiness of the NIV, it seems like something was lost in the translating. The words don't mean quite as much to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-6349503869854936357?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/6349503869854936357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=6349503869854936357' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/6349503869854936357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/6349503869854936357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/12/triple-play.html' title='triple play'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-7861647183597875308</id><published>2007-12-25T17:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-26T17:45:40.876-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Paradoxes of Mr. Pond by G.K. Chesterton</title><content type='html'>Mr. Pond is an odd man who says things called paradoxes, without even realizing it. Such as: How did a general fail to complete his mission by his subordinates' complete obedience? Or, How are there difficulties in deporting a desirable alien? Such are the paradoxes. At first, they seem utterly at odds and complete nonsense, but as Mr. Pond tells the story behind each, you see that they make perfect sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very good. Chesterton writes very well, thinking up riddles and solving them with impeccable English and good adjectives. I like his description of Mr. Pond- Mr. Pond looks like a fish with a beard, and the description is so well-done that Mr. Pond is in your head, clear as day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Merry Christmas! &lt;br /&gt;And- dare I say it?- Happy Birthday, Jesus!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-7861647183597875308?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7861647183597875308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=7861647183597875308' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/7861647183597875308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/7861647183597875308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/12/paradoxes-of-mr-pond-by-gk-chesterton.html' title='The Paradoxes of Mr. Pond by G.K. Chesterton'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-8760123428847822788</id><published>2007-11-20T06:42:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T06:52:35.616-08:00</updated><title type='text'>O Pioneers! by Willa Cather</title><content type='html'>Alexandra Bergson has lived on the land and worked it since her father's death. Sixteen years later, she is the most prosperous landowner on the Divide, a valley that stretches across the Nebraska prairie. She has three brothers, a childhood friend, and a beautiful friend. Her love of the land keeps her through the hardships that come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So sad! Cather makes everyone so real, and it is much worse when trouble comes to them than in average books. I spent a good fifteen minutes after I finished it staring at the wall, because I could see it in my head. Alexandra is the feminist, the woman who can stand on her own and prospers, but she is still human. Even Cather, who was a civil rights activist, could not say that when women were independent they were perfectly happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-8760123428847822788?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/8760123428847822788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=8760123428847822788' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/8760123428847822788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/8760123428847822788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/11/o-pioneers-by-willa-cather.html' title='O Pioneers! by Willa Cather'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-5070197083933499680</id><published>2007-11-17T05:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-17T05:45:15.390-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Zero: the History of a Dangerous Idea by Charles Seife</title><content type='html'>Zero- cultures have feared it, banned it, revered it, and finally accepted it. It is infinity's twin. The Church believed it first to be heresy, then to prove God's existence. It is the number that is needed for calculus, the math of nature, but also is the center of black holes. Seife explores the number's history, from Aristotle to Albert Einstein and beyond.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very good. It was very interesting- the Greeks didn't like zero because it didn't fit in with their philosophies; Christians didn't like it because they thought it was contradicting God's nature; but the Mayans' first day of each month was the zero-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;eth&lt;/span&gt; day. It was all about religion. The Hindus worshipped it as part of a god, Shiva. It's like Copernicus- when we think something messes with our doctrine, we try to ignore it and call everyone who believes in it heretics.&lt;br /&gt;Believe in zero.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Thanksgiving!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-5070197083933499680?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5070197083933499680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=5070197083933499680' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/5070197083933499680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/5070197083933499680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/11/zero-history-of-dangerous-idea-by.html' title='Zero: the History of a Dangerous Idea by Charles Seife'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-1129541052981979665</id><published>2007-10-18T05:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-18T05:50:20.488-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Feet of Clay by Terry Pratchett</title><content type='html'>Something is wrong in the city of Ankh-Morpork. Two old men are found dead, the city's ruler is poisoned every night, and golems, the city's clay slaves, are smashing themselves to bits.  Sir Samuel Vimes, Commander of the City Watch, is in charge of the investigation, but even he is having a hard time....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good. Terry Pratchett has a lot of imagination, but I think that sometimes it gets in the way of his writing. This is one of his more articulate books. It made me think: the city likes its golems because they can't talk, they work without pay, food, or board, and they work fast. Definitely slavery. And so they get extremely worked up when Dorfl is given words. Maybe we have a lesson to learn on slavery, folks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-1129541052981979665?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/1129541052981979665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=1129541052981979665' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/1129541052981979665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/1129541052981979665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/10/feet-of-clay-by-terry-pratchett.html' title='Feet of Clay by Terry Pratchett'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-7576071440861920082</id><published>2007-10-17T17:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-17T17:48:19.217-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Go NaNoWriMo! (National Novel Writing Month)</title><content type='html'>Hooray for NaNo! In November, thirty days, the goal is to write fifty thousand words. This is my second year, and I'm getting pretty exited. Yay!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-7576071440861920082?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7576071440861920082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=7576071440861920082' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/7576071440861920082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/7576071440861920082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/10/go-nanowrimo-national-novel-writing.html' title='Go NaNoWriMo! (National Novel Writing Month)'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-7124375487967017749</id><published>2007-10-01T18:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-01T18:54:29.287-07:00</updated><title type='text'>-</title><content type='html'>I'm working on getting my reporting skills back up to standards. Bear with me. Sorry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-7124375487967017749?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7124375487967017749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=7124375487967017749' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/7124375487967017749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/7124375487967017749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/10/blog-post.html' title='-'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-6894006384224063439</id><published>2007-10-01T17:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-01T18:53:07.142-07:00</updated><title type='text'>long time no see</title><content type='html'>The Autobiography of Martin Luther King, Jr., edited by Clayborne Carson&lt;br /&gt;King was born in the late twenties. He grew up in a segregated, racist America, where his family could not vote and had no rights and their friends lived in ghettos. When in college, he read Marx, Lenin, and Nietzsche looking for the answer to the social evils he lived with. He found it in the nonviolence of Gandhi, and throughout his ministries for rights for blacks and the poor, he always used this doctrine. He founded the movements that led to the outlawing of segregation, black votes, and open housing. He was and is an inspiration for America.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very good. I have never heard of all that MLK did, and it made me think. Lots of it made me mad and sad. How different would America be if we resorted to nonviolence? Maybe we wouldn't have had messes like Korea and Vietnam and Iraq. What would we be like if things were still segregated? Maybe I'd think minorities were trash. What can we do about social problems? Maybe we could buy less stuff and donate the rest, or give what we already have to Salvation Army. Maybe we can help streetkids get homes. Maybe we could take meals to sick people. A man came to my school one time. His was the first black family in Norman, and they lived on the 'wrong' side of town. They lived through some tough times. I've got black friends. What if they lived like that? Would I do anything about it? I hope I would have. We need to act more on what he taught- the Gospel, love and grace and community and hope. Maybe if everyone did, we'd all be better people and have a better country. We should try.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-6894006384224063439?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/6894006384224063439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=6894006384224063439' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/6894006384224063439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/6894006384224063439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/10/long-time-no-see.html' title='long time no see'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-6591253346056926019</id><published>2007-08-25T15:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-25T15:17:25.452-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Silmarillion by J.R.R. Tolkein</title><content type='html'>In the Beginning was Eru, and he made the Valar, who in turn made Arda, the world. But Morgoth was prideful and began to destroy the others' work and make his own evil things. Feanor, dwelling in the Blessed Land, makes three jewels, called the Silmarillion, and Morgoth seizes his chance to begin a war that will last for two ages and more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very good. Possibly my favorite Tolkein. I do wish, though, that it were less...complicated. There are a &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;lot&lt;/span&gt; of people in that book, and most of them have at least two names, and then all their names translated into Sindarin or Quenya- the elves' languages. Very complicated, awesome giants. So it was confusing. And there seemed to be a lot of people going mad and killing people needlessly. There was a lot of killing in general. Naturally, I was not overjoyed with this. The whole thing was rather Norse. But you should still definately read it. All the better because it's hard to find.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School started Thursday. A good first two days. I hope it keeps up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-6591253346056926019?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/6591253346056926019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=6591253346056926019' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/6591253346056926019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/6591253346056926019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/08/silmarillion-by-jrr-tolkein.html' title='The Silmarillion by J.R.R. Tolkein'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-7740123379961379234</id><published>2007-08-22T06:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-22T06:24:32.331-07:00</updated><title type='text'>West into the Night by Beryl Markham</title><content type='html'>An autobigraphy: Markham grew up on a farm and horse-training place in British East Africa. When she was fifteen her father had to sell their land and she moved north, and  trained horses for races. After she had one a major race with the horse Wise Child, she met Tom Black, a pilot. He taught her how to fly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very good writing. Africa! I'll go there someday. Zimbabwe and Cairo and Kenya and Victoria Falls. I think I would like to fly someday, too. Markham writes so well, I was there. Saw the Atlantic underneath me and heard the motor die. Saw Buller and the boar. Read this book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anna's birthday is today. We're going to the OKC zoo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-7740123379961379234?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7740123379961379234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=7740123379961379234' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/7740123379961379234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/7740123379961379234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/08/west-into-night-by-beryl-markham.html' title='West into the Night by Beryl Markham'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-8201632978749313047</id><published>2007-08-21T08:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-21T08:44:58.989-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Skybreaker by Kenneth Oppel</title><content type='html'>Floating 20,000 feet above the rest of the world is the &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Hydrion,&lt;/span&gt; a ledgendary airship containing huge amounts of treasure. Lots of people are willing to kill to find it, but only one person in the world has its coordinates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good. Not as good as &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Airborn,&lt;/span&gt; I think. Not as interesting. Maybe too unbelievable. This probably sounds weird coming from someone who passionately defends King Arthur and dragons, but this book is sci-fi, and should have some...fact? I don't know what to call it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Making zucchini bread today. This is the second round of making zucchini bread with a 16 inch vegetable. Never seen one so big.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-8201632978749313047?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/8201632978749313047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=8201632978749313047' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/8201632978749313047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/8201632978749313047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/08/skybreaker-by-kenneth-oppel.html' title='Skybreaker by Kenneth Oppel'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-1324675966942751583</id><published>2007-08-19T18:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-19T18:43:45.263-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Airborn by Kenneth Oppel</title><content type='html'>Matt Cruse is pretty happy with the life he has- a cabin boy on a nine hundred feet long, fourteen-story high luxury passenger ship, one that doesn't have to worry about gigantic freighters plowing the ocean. It sails eight hundred feet above them in the sky. Then one night he spies a hot air balloon whose pilot speaks of creatures totally real and utterly mysterious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very good. I really don't think of airships very often. I guess they were only around for about twenty years, and ended with the &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Hindenburg.&lt;/span&gt; But the author must have a really good imagination- cloud cats, airships, light as air! Especially recommended for pirates and sci-fi people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"Lighter than air, that's our Mr. Cruse."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School starts tomorrow for Norman Public and Ou; Thursday for me! Ha! ha!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-1324675966942751583?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/1324675966942751583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=1324675966942751583' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/1324675966942751583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/1324675966942751583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/08/airborn-by-kenneth-oppel.html' title='Airborn by Kenneth Oppel'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-8820691791386084032</id><published>2007-08-14T08:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-14T08:19:29.708-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Spindle's End</title><content type='html'>Princess Briar-Rose has been spelled by the wicked fairy Pernicia so that on her twenty-first birthday she will prick her finger on a spinning wheel, and die. The princess is rescued by Katriona, a village fairy. She is brought up as Rosie, a village maiden, and defies the spell for twenty years by her sheer ordinariness- a horse-leech, unable to sing, dance, or work a spell, and something that is not normal: she talks to animals. But what everyone thinks and does not say is, How in the world is our princess going to do this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very good. I like that everything is magic, but they are still most definately &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;human.&lt;/span&gt; Katriona is one of the best fairies in the Gig, but she is a chronic worrier. Rosie is a cursed princess, but she does not know this and loves the horses. The mark of a good writer. McKinley is one of my favorites. Check out The Blue Sword and The Outlaws of Sherwood too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Veritas starts in 9 days?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-8820691791386084032?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/8820691791386084032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=8820691791386084032' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/8820691791386084032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/8820691791386084032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/08/spindles-end.html' title='Spindle&apos;s End'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-2941328344715923828</id><published>2007-08-12T12:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-12T12:03:21.343-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Weather Thoughts</title><content type='html'>Will we have eighties and seventies into November, to even things out? And then a really cold winter? Oklahoma's so weird. No one knows.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-2941328344715923828?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/2941328344715923828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=2941328344715923828' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/2941328344715923828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/2941328344715923828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/08/weather-thoughts.html' title='Weather Thoughts'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-459003225222285991</id><published>2007-08-12T11:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-12T12:00:50.535-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux</title><content type='html'>The curtain rises on the Paris Opera and the singer holds people spellbound with her voice. Two men lover her: one, the brother of a count, and the other, the mysterious Opera ghost who haunts the building. The opera managers do not believe in ghosts, and they are quickly plunged into misfortune, though they continue to ignore it. The singer, Christine, prefers to believe in her Angel of Music. The count's brother prefers to think of dueling the ghost. Things begin to spiral.&lt;br /&gt;NOTE: The back of my copy says on the back that there is a tragic ending. This is not entirely accurate. It rather spoiled my reading- kept on waiting for everyone to die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very good. I wonder how the play/movies measure up. Erik was pitifully hideous, Raoul stupid, and Christine the right amount of crazy/good/concious-stricken. A good read.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-459003225222285991?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/459003225222285991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=459003225222285991' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/459003225222285991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/459003225222285991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/08/phantom-of-opera-by-gaston-leroux.html' title='The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-9114458815822192747</id><published>2007-08-10T17:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-10T17:24:03.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I quoth, 'Shakespeare' and I unquoth</title><content type='html'>If you cannot understand my argument, and declare, 'It's Greek to me', you arre quoting Shakespeare; if you claim to be more sinned against than sinning, you are quoting Shakespeare,; if you recall your salad days, you are quoting Shakespeare; if you act more in sorrow than in anger, if your wish is father to the thought, if your lost property has vanished into thin air, you are quoting Shakespeare; if you have ever refused to budge an inch or suffered from green-eyed jealousy, if you have played fast and loose, if you have knitted your brows, made a virtue of necessity, insisted on fair play, slept no one wink, stood on ceremony, danced attendance (to your lord and master), laughed yourself into stitches, had short shrift, cold comfort or too much of a good thing, if you have seen better days, or lived in a fool's paradise- why, be that as it may, the more fool you, fore it is a foregone conclusion that you are (as good luch would have it) quoting Shakespeare; if you thing it is early days and clear out bag and baggage, if you think i is high time and that that is the long and short of it, if you believe that the game is up and that truth will out even if it involves your own flesh and blood, if you lie low till the crack of doom because you suspect foul play, if you have your teeth set on edge (at one fell swoop) without rhyme or reason, then- to give the devil his due- if the truth were known (for surely you have a tongue in your head) you are quoting Shakespeare; even if you bid me good riddance and send me packing, if you wish I was dead as a door-nail, if you thing I ame an eyesore, a laughing stock, the devil incarnate, a stony-hearted villain, bloody-minded or a blinking idiot, then- by Jove! O Lord! tut, tut! for goodness' sake! what the dickens! but me no buts- it is all one to me, for you are quoting Shakespeare.&lt;br /&gt;-Bernard Levin, quoted in &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;The Story of English&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-9114458815822192747?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/9114458815822192747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=9114458815822192747' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/9114458815822192747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/9114458815822192747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/08/i-quoth-shakespeare-and-i-unquoth.html' title='I quoth, &apos;Shakespeare&apos; and I unquoth'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-5446321452547127999</id><published>2007-08-10T16:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-10T17:09:33.737-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Story of English by Robert McCrum, Robert MacNeil, and William Cran</title><content type='html'>The not-too-dense book from roughly 400 AD to today. We follow the ever-changing ways of the world's top language across every continent -except of course Antartica- from the Anglo-Saxon invasion of England to the Norman conquest to American English, down to the Caribbean creole, across the Atlantic for African pidgin and Krio, then down to the Aussie Aboriginal English. We hear of Japlish, Franglais, and Singlish. Perhaps in another one hundred years the whole world will be English, or maybe it will be remembered as Latin- useful, but mostly dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very interesting. Liked the bits about creole and the Celts and the Australians- I always like Celts, creole is neat to listen to, and the Aussies despise English spellings- but only most of the time. I regard it as amazing that about sixteen hundred years can be packed into one reasonably sized book.&lt;br /&gt;Jessie/Tonks- numerous people have mentioned as I was reading this that you like this kind of thing. Let's talk.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-5446321452547127999?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5446321452547127999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=5446321452547127999' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/5446321452547127999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/5446321452547127999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/08/story-of-english-by-robert-mccrum.html' title='The Story of English by Robert McCrum, Robert MacNeil, and William Cran'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-5697484280188998292</id><published>2007-08-08T07:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-08T07:35:26.674-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Scarlet Pimpernel by Baroness Orczy</title><content type='html'>In 1792, Marguerite, the 'cleverest woman in Europe', is married to 'that demmed idiot' Sir Percy Blakeney. It is during the French Revolution, and everyone on both sides of the Channel is looking for the Scarlet Pimpernel, the daring man who rescues &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;aristos&lt;/span&gt; right from under the nose of the people's guards. Marguerite is blackmailed into searching for him, and she finds it much worse than she could ever have imagined.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now No. 21 of Favorite Books. It's great how we have the first superhero double-identity guy, but during the French Revolution and without superpowers. Baroness Orczy forfeits some of her glory, though, with describing the Pimpernel's disguise of a Jew with contempt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Peace Like a River&lt;/span&gt; by Leif Enger is No. 22. I suspect that there will really be no end to the list.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-5697484280188998292?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5697484280188998292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=5697484280188998292' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/5697484280188998292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/5697484280188998292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/08/scarlet-pimpernel-by-baroness-orczy.html' title='The Scarlet Pimpernel by Baroness Orczy'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-9096803465300440905</id><published>2007-08-07T10:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-07T10:29:12.301-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ivanhoe by Sir Walter Scott</title><content type='html'>The lovely Jewess Rebecca and the Saxon lady Rowena are being held captive in a castle with their fathers. Due to his jester's wit, Rowena's father Cedric escapes and gets the help of the merry band of Robin Hood and Richard the Lionheart to help him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good. Concentration is necessary, though- don't attempt to read while watching TV. It was awful how Rebecca was condemned just for being a Jew, and Aethelstane's resuscitation just didn't make sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Resuscitation is a good word&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-9096803465300440905?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/9096803465300440905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=9096803465300440905' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/9096803465300440905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/9096803465300440905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/08/ivanhoe-by-sir-walter-scott.html' title='Ivanhoe by Sir Walter Scott'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-3743673944221554712</id><published>2007-08-04T14:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-04T14:33:19.093-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Answering Comment:</title><content type='html'>S. Schupack: I'm not quite sure I &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; like Wuthering Heights, but at the same time, I'm not sure I &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;do.&lt;/span&gt; That doesn't make any sense. Sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anyone for some reason happens to call Dan Serven of Ozark, MO, owner of Haminha and Cedar Lane, wish him a happy late birthday. Note: not answering a comment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-3743673944221554712?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3743673944221554712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=3743673944221554712' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/3743673944221554712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/3743673944221554712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/08/answering-comment.html' title='Answering Comment:'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-5189700642603909004</id><published>2007-08-04T14:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-04T14:35:13.692-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A word for J.K. Rowling</title><content type='html'>In some ways, J.K. is like J.R.R. Tolkein. True, Tolkein would have despised her blending of magic and Muggles- he hated the Narnia books, which were published by his best friend- but they have their similarities. Tolkein wrote the first 'fantasy' book and introduced the world to elves, dragons, and goblins, which were reasonably familiar from fairy tales, but unthinkable for books. Now they are commonplace. He created the fantasy genre. He invented numerous languages, hobbits, orcs, and Nazgul. Rowling brought back some of the old ideas of magic- wands and spells. She invented everything from Gurdyroots to incantations to house elves. Imagine, in ten or twenty years, if you buy a new release, and there are dementors and Crumple-Horned Snorkacks in it. And you'll say, Yep, I know where this comes from. Rowling's a classic now, overpriced right alongside Dante and Lewis. I bought them the minute they came out. Yep. So, readers, although we disagree with some of Rowling's writing, maybe we should watch our mouthes, because perhaps the next generation of writers will keep it alive in their works.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-5189700642603909004?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5189700642603909004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=5189700642603909004' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/5189700642603909004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/5189700642603909004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/08/word-for-jk-rowling.html' title='A word for J.K. Rowling'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-1306189157776707777</id><published>2007-07-31T08:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-31T08:36:05.509-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hamlet, by William Shakespeare</title><content type='html'>Hamlet: Hamlet, a prince of Denmark, is driven mad by his father's ghost, who makes him believe that his uncle Claudius, his father's brother, killed him. The Ghost says that Claudius killed him, and then married his wife. Hamlet is insane with rage, and because of this, causes his lover, Ophelia, to commit suicide. Ophelia's brother decides to kill Hamlet. Hamlet is bent on killing Claudius, and wouldn't be too fussed if his mother dies as well. There is the inevitable showdown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good/creepy/scary. I'm not quite sure whether I liked it. It's the same feeling I was given by Wuthering Heights- confused and creeped out. I felt very sorry for Ophelia. Driven mad by the death of her father and Hamlet- so she commits suicide. Very tragic, but perhaps she could have thought about a better alternative. An unmistakeable tragedy.&lt;br /&gt;Thought it was neat that 'soft' for Shakespeare meant 'hold still, wait'.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-1306189157776707777?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/1306189157776707777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=1306189157776707777' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/1306189157776707777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/1306189157776707777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/07/hamlet-by-william-shakespeare.html' title='Hamlet, by William Shakespeare'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-1264793658295072783</id><published>2007-07-21T16:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-21T16:38:29.018-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Favorite Books</title><content type='html'>These are my Top 20, in no particular order:&lt;br /&gt;1) The Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling&lt;br /&gt;2) Summerland by Michael Chabon&lt;br /&gt;3) Luther the Reformer by James M. Kittleson&lt;br /&gt;4) 1776 by David MacCullough&lt;br /&gt;5) The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkein&lt;br /&gt;6) A Ring of Endless Light by Madeleine L'Engle&lt;br /&gt;7) The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle&lt;br /&gt;8) The Hunchback of Notre Dame by Victor Hugo&lt;br /&gt;9) Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte&lt;br /&gt;10) The Wee Free Men by Terry Pratchett&lt;br /&gt;11) The Three Musketeers by Alexandar Dumas&lt;br /&gt;12) Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, translated by J.R.R Tolkein&lt;br /&gt;13) The Hobbit by J.R.R Tolkein&lt;br /&gt;14) A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle&lt;br /&gt;15) A Swiftly Tilting Planet by Madeleine L'Engle&lt;br /&gt;16) The Outlaws of Sherwood by Robin McKinley&lt;br /&gt;17) The Blue Sword by Robin McKinley&lt;br /&gt;18) The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis&lt;br /&gt;19) The Count of Monte Christo by Alexandar Dumas&lt;br /&gt;20) The Once and Future King by T.H. White&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-1264793658295072783?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/1264793658295072783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=1264793658295072783' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/1264793658295072783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/1264793658295072783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/07/favorite-books.html' title='Favorite Books'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-1490916008469522726</id><published>2007-07-21T16:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-21T16:23:25.073-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Germany and the Czech Republic</title><content type='html'>For those who don't know, I went up the Elbe River on a cruise boat in June. We went from Prague up to Berlin. &lt;br /&gt;I really don't know where my favorite places were, but I've tried for top three, in no particular order:&lt;br /&gt;1)Worlitz Park, Worlitz, GER. Worlitz is a town an hour's drive from Berlin. There is a huge man-made canal/lagoon system, and they have gondola tours. Amazingly beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;2)Berlin, GER. Huge gray stone buildings, cathedrals, a ten-story department store from Paris, the Wall, Checkpoint Charlie, wienerschitzel...la!&lt;br /&gt;3)Prague, CZ. The City of a Hundred Spires. Walked on the Charles Bridge and through the town, though regrettably- as far as I can remember- no churches. There is a water mark on most of the houses, about four feet high- the city is regularly flooded by the Vltava&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I loved meeting the people, seeing the sights, snapping pictures like mad, and trying the food. We also got to try our hand at foreign shopping- all my luggage got lost on the way to Prague! So now I have a collection of foreign shirts, though interesting, they are still MADE IN CHINA.&lt;br /&gt;Thanks and Hooray to everyone, whoever you are!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-1490916008469522726?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/1490916008469522726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=1490916008469522726' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/1490916008469522726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/1490916008469522726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/07/germany-and-czech-republic.html' title='Germany and the Czech Republic'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-4187493629978223166</id><published>2007-07-21T16:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-21T16:11:31.304-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling [at last!]</title><content type='html'>Voldemort is on the rise, Dumbledore is dead, and Harry is faced with the enormous challenge of destroying three more Horcruxes. Eventually, he must face the Dark Lord, and do something none would dream of.&lt;br /&gt;But I'm not telling you anymore! Read it, peoples!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So. All that 'junk' in the last few books has turned out to be not junk at all. The crown on the bust; the locket in the cupboard; the fairy story. It would greatly interest me to know how in the &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;world&lt;/span&gt; J.K. thinks of these things!!! The woman's a genius!!! Hooray!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose I have succeeded in telling you nothing useful. You have to read it for yourselves. But I suspect that you would have read it anyways, no matter what I say. We can discuss our joys and annoyances later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-4187493629978223166?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/4187493629978223166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=4187493629978223166' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/4187493629978223166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/4187493629978223166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/07/harry-potter-and-deathly-hallows-by-jk.html' title='Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling [at last!]'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-2648096522008430315</id><published>2007-07-15T16:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-16T08:20:17.239-07:00</updated><title type='text'>five weeks' worth of book reports!</title><content type='html'>So. Germany and the Czech Republic and Branson and D.C. Lots of books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Antonia by Willa Cather&lt;br /&gt;Antonia is a Czech immigrant in the Nebraska plains, where she befriends Jim. They are fast friends, but circumstances change and hard times come. Both change, for better and for worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good. The description was lovely. Amazing. It seems like a few things needed to be changed, though- what happens to the murderer? Never is he mentioned. What happens to his family? They are never mentioned. The ending flops, too. But over all a very nice book.&lt;br /&gt;------------&lt;br /&gt;George Elliot by Kathryn Hughes&lt;br /&gt;Marianne Evans was born in 1819 as a sullen, petty child. She was a Puritan, and hated the Christmas celebrations' 'frivolity'. She slowly changed, though, into an atheist.  She wrote her first book,&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Adam Bede&lt;/span&gt; , under the pen name of George Elliot, and continued to use it for most of her life. She was attention-hungry and strained many a relationship because of it. She was 'married' to George Lewes for sixteen years, and then to  for the last three months of her life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interesting. She was an amazingly odd person. I'm glad I didn't write to her; she was no fun to her pen pals. And being married to someone who has another wife who has another husband. Ick. A slow read.&lt;br /&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte&lt;br /&gt;Catherine Earnshaw, the lady, and Heathcliff, the waif, make a strange pair, but they will not be separated from each other. Heathcliff is deemed violent, and Catherine married off to a lord. Neither can stand it. Cathy becomes insane and Heathcliff runs away, to leave their problems for the younger generation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strange. It was scary, but not nightmarish...shivery, maybe. The way Catherine goes mad and Heathcliff forgets, and then you're afraid it's going to happen all over again with Cathy and Hareton. But it doesn't. Good.&lt;br /&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;The Pilgrim's Regress by C.S. Lewis&lt;br /&gt;This was Lewis's first book after his conversion, and records his trip to salvation. John sees an island, the perfect island, Paradise, and he sets off to find it. He meets people such as Mr. Enlightenment, Mr. Humanist, and Mother Kirk, in such places as the Valley of Humiliation and the city of Thrill as he journeys to this mysterious place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good. I think it was just as good as &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Pilgrim's Progress&lt;/span&gt;. Lewis is perfect with allegories. He can think of things that fit, and make sense, and people know about, and make them represent things that you would never have thought of, and it works. Mother Kirk should have been talked about a little more, though.&lt;br /&gt;--------------&lt;br /&gt;The Professor and the Madman: A Tale of Murder, Insanity, and the Making of the Oxford English Dictionary by Simon Winchester&lt;br /&gt;The obsessions of two remarkable and very different men led to the making of the book that defined many of the words we know today. The book, begun in 1857 and taking seventy more years, was one of the most ambitious projects ever undertaken. Professor James Murray headed the project, and discovered that a chief contributor was confined in an asylum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very good. I liked that the word definitions and the dictionary were tied to someone as strange as Dr. Minor. It is rather ironic, though, that if he had not been confined he would not have contributed, and if he had not contributed, he would not have become even worse. Is that a paradox?&lt;br /&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;A Portrait of Jesus by Joseph Gerizone&lt;br /&gt;Father Gerizone has attempted to get inside the heads of Jesus and his followers. What it would be like to walk all over Israel, what his disciples thought of Jesus. There is also a lot of tolerance to Jews and Muslims preached.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Interesting. I find, though, that he skipped-or almost skipped-four major parts of the Gospel- the incarnation, the crucifixion, the resurrection, and the ascension. How can a portrait of Christ be complete without these? Now, I think it's fine to have people of different faiths as friends, but can you accept them as influences on your church, on your decisions? I don't think so, but then, I am a very opinionated almost-thirteen, and other opinions would be appreciated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WOW! LOTS OF REPORTS! PHEW!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-2648096522008430315?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/2648096522008430315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=2648096522008430315' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/2648096522008430315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/2648096522008430315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/07/five-weeks-worth-of-book-reports.html' title='five weeks&apos; worth of book reports!'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-8656620733775682478</id><published>2007-06-05T05:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-05T06:04:06.341-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Narnian: the Life and Imagination of C.S. Lewis by Alan Jacobs</title><content type='html'>Clive Staples Lewis was born in 1898. At the age of four he told the family that he would not answer to anything but Jack, and Jack he remained to friends and family until his death. As a boy he and his brother, Warnie, would make up an imaginary world of Boxen. Lewis liked nothing other than reading a good book, and was very introverted. He hated school. This is probably the cause for Eustace's and Jill's horrible school. In 1914 he began working with a tutor, who declared that his translation abilities were amazing and that he had read more classics than anyone he had ever known. He considered himself an atheist, but gradually became a Christian. He did, however, continue living with a Mrs. Moore, who was twenty years older than he, until her death in the fifties. He became an Oxford don, met J.R.R Tolkein, began the Inklings, wrote many books, and married Joy Gresham. He died on November 22, 1963, and, between him and Tolkein, started a new era of literature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very good. I hadn't known about Mrs. Moore, or half of everything else, either. His favorite sound was 'adult male laughter'. Many fantasy writers hate him because they are atheists and find his very pronounced views of Christianity- the 'pie in the sky by and by' view- maddening. This was interesting. Wouldn't you be glad that you had eternal life? Except, of course, if you're an atheist, which would mean that you thought it was dumb. Hmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I GO TO GERMANY TODAY!!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-8656620733775682478?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/8656620733775682478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=8656620733775682478' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/8656620733775682478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/8656620733775682478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/06/narnian-life-and-imagination-of-cs.html' title='The Narnian: the Life and Imagination of C.S. Lewis by Alan Jacobs'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-3958994851294983547</id><published>2007-05-29T07:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-29T08:15:07.272-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tolkein: a biography by Michael White</title><content type='html'>John Ronald Reul Tolkein was born in South Africa in 1892. His parents died when he was young, but before she died his mother managed to make him firm in the Catholic Church. He was very good in school and interested in rugby. When he was twelve, he began to learn Middle English and Anglo-Saxon. He was married to Edith Bratt in 1916, a year when many people were not sure how long the war would last, or if they would survive it. Both did, and the war played a large part in &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;The Lord of the Rings&lt;/span&gt;. Tolkein wanted to create a mythology for England, who only had the King Arthur tales. He succeeded. He created a work that is still regarded as amazing, and is able to make the reader feel as if they are in Middle Earth. He made his own languages. He died in 1973, known across the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good. I found out a lot of things I didn't know: he was a Catholic (I'd always assumed he was Anglican); he moved twelve times in two years; the first publishers of &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;The Lord of the Rings&lt;/span&gt; printed a very small number of copies because they did not think it would sell well; Tolkein despised &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;The Chronicles of Narnia&lt;/span&gt;; etc. It seemed kind of short, but I don't know which part I would like more of.&lt;br /&gt;It is recommended that one read &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;The Hobbit&lt;/span&gt; or &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;The Lord of the Rings&lt;/span&gt; before this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jane Eyre makes more sense now. Thanks&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-3958994851294983547?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3958994851294983547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=3958994851294983547' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/3958994851294983547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/3958994851294983547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/05/tolkein-biography-by-michael-white.html' title='Tolkein: a biography by Michael White'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-210268954508255132</id><published>2007-05-22T18:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-22T19:12:16.111-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Florida books</title><content type='html'>The Hunchback of Notre Dame by Victor Hugo&lt;br /&gt;Quasimodo the hunchback, Dom Claude the priest, and Phoebus the captain are all in love with Esmeralda, the gypsy. They all react in different ways, though: Quasimodo can't do anything because he is partially blind, deaf, and mostly mute; Dom Claude tries to kill her, and Phoebus is almost murdered. It is really very interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very good. The ending was sad, but it couldn't have ended any other way and still have made sense. That makes me pretty sure that Disney screwed it up, even though the first and only time I have ever watched it was when I was five. Pierre was good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Notre Dame is spelled so weird. &lt;br /&gt;French is weird.&lt;br /&gt;Did I spell weird right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte&lt;br /&gt;Jane is a plain governess orphan who is working for Mr. Rochester, and odd, proud, man. He is like his house. Many nights there is eery laughter from the attic. Someone tries to murder him twice. He and Jane fall in love with each other, and try to marry each other. Of course, there are problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good, but there is no good reason that Mr. Rochester has for loving her. He doesn't seem like the kind of man to love a plain woman. It kind of ruins the story if you realize that the actual story doesn't make sense. I would love it if someone gave me an explanation.&lt;br /&gt;Why is there so much French? Maybe lots of people back then could read French out of a book. I can't. I would try to read German, though. St. John makes no sense. I'm glad he's not my brother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;school's out!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-210268954508255132?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/210268954508255132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=210268954508255132' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/210268954508255132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/210268954508255132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/05/florida-books.html' title='Florida books'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-6162650054086270652</id><published>2007-05-10T15:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-10T18:58:35.010-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When the Bluebonnets Come by John J. Dwyer</title><content type='html'>Katie Shanahan and her family live in Cotton Patch, Texas. Her father is the pastor of a small Presbyterian church. Word comes that rich people from Dallas are going to build a casino and a 'family entertainment center' right in Cotton Patch. Immediately the town and even the Shanahan's church is divided. People stop talking to each other, and  buildings are purposely burnt. But through it all, miracles happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very good. I was a little confused in some places, but that was soon fixed. It made me feel like I would cry. That is a thing I've only done with maybe three books, this being the third. It is a mark of its goodness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GOING TO FA TOMORROW! YAAAAAAY!&lt;br /&gt;Yet all things must come at a price. Finals begin tomorrow morning, and I have to take them in Florida.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-6162650054086270652?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/6162650054086270652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=6162650054086270652' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/6162650054086270652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/6162650054086270652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/05/when-bluebonnets-come-by-john-j-dwyer.html' title='When the Bluebonnets Come by John J. Dwyer'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-4098512015215717799</id><published>2007-05-04T10:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-04T10:42:20.325-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Witch Week by Diana Wynne Jones</title><content type='html'>Mr. Crossley recieves an alarming note one day: SOMEONE IN 6B IS A WITCH. This is bad because, as everyone knows, witches are burned at the stake. But Mr. Crossley decides to ignore it. Soon he regrets this. A parrot appears during music, there is a Simon Says spell, and the entire boarding school's shoes appear in the hall. The inquisitor is sent for. But he is not what everyone expects....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good. An easy read. It was neat that everything was because of Guy Fawkes' day, which was also kind of odd, because it's a British holiday. Would that mean that only all the magic in Britain was because of Guy Fawkes' day? Would ours be because of the Fourth of July, or something?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like the word odd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's almost time for Summer Conference! Yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To turi: what is Germanism?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-4098512015215717799?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/4098512015215717799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=4098512015215717799' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/4098512015215717799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/4098512015215717799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/05/witch-week-by-diana-wynne-jones.html' title='Witch Week by Diana Wynne Jones'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-5372323824999684509</id><published>2007-04-30T18:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T14:14:42.470-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Volume I of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/RjaW06w0zrI/AAAAAAAAAFk/bvMAWVnezu8/s1600-h/5140SJ3865L._AA240_.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/RjaW06w0zrI/AAAAAAAAAFk/bvMAWVnezu8/s320/5140SJ3865L._AA240_.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5059397067268738738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the police are baffled, people of every kind of social status come to the amazing Sherlock Holmes. WIth his extraordinary knowledge of tobacco kinds, gossip, the London underground, and other miscellaneous areas, he catches his victim nearly every time. WIth the help of his faithful companion, Watson, he unravels the mysteries of A Study in Scarlet, The Five Orange Pips, The Yellow Face, and The Speckled Band. All are told by Watson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very good. It is amazing that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle could think of these things! I mean, telling that shots were not suicidal and murderous and that the lady is not lying by the fact that there is a third bullet in the wall, knowing what a man looks like by the distance of his footsteps from each other, on and on! A few things that annoyed me, though: the stories were not arranged in any chronological order, and there were allusions to cases that were not in the book. Maybe they're in volume two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What kind of name is Sherlock Holmes?!&lt;br /&gt;A pretty cool one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-5372323824999684509?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5372323824999684509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=5372323824999684509' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/5372323824999684509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/5372323824999684509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/04/volume-i-of-adventures-of-sherlock.html' title='Volume I of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/RjaW06w0zrI/AAAAAAAAAFk/bvMAWVnezu8/s72-c/5140SJ3865L._AA240_.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-4779555031204295147</id><published>2007-04-16T06:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-16T06:19:40.170-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Silas Marner by George Elliot</title><content type='html'>Silas Marner is cast out of his brotherhood after being falsely accused of killing the deacon and stealing church money. He goes to Ravloe and is known there as being the odd old weaver from somewhere else. He is very rich after fifteen years in Raveloe, and every night he counts his golden guineas. But on Christmas Eve he finds gold of a different sort: Eppie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good. Elliot (who was really a woman)describes Marner perfectly: before Eppie, he is a nearsighted, shrunken man with a sallow face and suspicious eyes, then he regains some vision and straightens up and smiles more. It is obvious that Eppie is good for him. That helps you get mad at Godfrey later. It all fits!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have discovered the uses of the colon, and found that I like it a lot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-4779555031204295147?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/4779555031204295147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=4779555031204295147' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/4779555031204295147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/4779555031204295147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/04/silas-marner-by-george-elliot.html' title='Silas Marner by George Elliot'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-2573218989923136582</id><published>2007-04-03T17:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-03T17:35:15.308-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Island of the Aunts by Eva Ibbotson</title><content type='html'>Three women who live on an island have a scary thought: if tree frogs and rainforests can become extinct, why not them? And if they become extinct, what will happen to all the things on the island? For there are a lot of strange things there- mermaids, stoorworms, boobries, and a selkie. So they kidnap three children (but one wasn't supposed to be kidnapped) to help them. Fabio and Minette learn how to de-oil the mermaids, take care of the boobrie, and feed the baby seals. It is because of them that the kraken comes, bringing his son to leave with them. The Great London Aunt Hunt  has begun to search for the kidnappers. This becomes a very bad thing, but you have to read the book. It's very good, don't worry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like the humor. It's British, which is much better than American. She says funny things, like the extinction idea, which is probable, only we don't say extinction; and they are British, so they call the bathroom the loo, which is a ridiculous word. I like Herbert. Selkies aren't used in stories enough. He's not a Herbert, though. He needs a more interesting name. Herbert is what you name a bystander who doesn't do much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a goal: I will beat Christopher Paolini and publish a book before he did. This is a goal that goes along with getting a Newfoundland and owning a bookmark from every country.&lt;br /&gt;Good, huh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-2573218989923136582?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/2573218989923136582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=2573218989923136582' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/2573218989923136582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/2573218989923136582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/04/island-of-aunts-by-eva-ibbotson.html' title='Island of the Aunts by Eva Ibbotson'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-3341438438676525048</id><published>2007-03-31T07:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-31T07:17:43.345-07:00</updated><title type='text'>1776 by David McCullough</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://http://www.amazon.com/1776-David-McCullough/dp/0743226720/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/103-7317591-1966223?ie=UTF8&amp;s=books&amp;qid=1175350616&amp;sr=1-1"&gt;1776:&lt;/a&gt; This is the story of the Revolutionary War's first year. General George Washington led his army through glorious victories and humiliating defeats. He crossed rivers three times, twice out from under the noses of the British. Henry Knox performed the feat declared impossible- hauling fifty cannons from Fort Ticonderoga to Boston in the dead of winter. Nathanael Greene, a Quaker made general in his thirties, won great battles, as did the British general William Howe. This war shaped America.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very good, but a little confusing. Washington crossed three rivers, and each time I thought it was the Delaware. That was the last. I had never heard of a lot of the battles and people, so Greene and Knox were nice surprises. Recommended&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-3341438438676525048?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3341438438676525048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=3341438438676525048' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/3341438438676525048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/3341438438676525048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/03/1776-by-david-mccullough.html' title='1776 by David McCullough'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-3093795073058758219</id><published>2007-03-17T14:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-17T14:19:33.857-07:00</updated><title type='text'>catching up with one thing to catch up on over the past month?!</title><content type='html'>The Ledgend of the Celtinc Stone by Michael Phillips&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ancient  Stone of Scone has been stolen from right under the noses of everyone in London. The leader of a Parliament faction has been murdered. No one knows the culprits. Andrew Trentham and Patricia (Paddy) Rawlings are taken on a roundabout search for the Stone, discovering along the way Scotch roots, the murderer, and other interesting things. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cool. I enjoyed the stories about Genevra and Wanderer and Foltlaig. They made sense (but maybe only because I don't know much Celt history), and it was nice to hear about old civilizations that not many people think much about. &lt;br /&gt;As you have probably guessed, this is historical fiction (or factual fantasy (or improbable history))&lt;br /&gt;Double parentheses. I've always wanted to do that. I'm not quite sure if I used it right, though. Oh, well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did any of that make any sense?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Saint Patrick's Day!&lt;br /&gt;Read &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;How the Irish Saved Civilization&lt;/span&gt; by Thomas Cahill.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-3093795073058758219?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/3093795073058758219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=3093795073058758219' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/3093795073058758219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/3093795073058758219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/03/catching-up-with-one-thing-to-catch-up.html' title='catching up with one thing to catch up on over the past month?!'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-7024075670867977286</id><published>2007-02-23T11:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-23T11:10:50.717-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Eight Cousins by Louisa May Alcott</title><content type='html'>Rose Campbell comes to the Aunt-hill tired and sick. Her guardian, uncle Alec, decides to make her a healthy young woman. Except his idea of a fashionable lady is rather different than most peoples. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay. It wasn't as good as Little Woman. It didn't have enough of a story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going to Missouri!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-7024075670867977286?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7024075670867977286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=7024075670867977286' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/7024075670867977286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/7024075670867977286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/02/eight-cousins-by-louisa-may-alcott.html' title='Eight Cousins by Louisa May Alcott'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-7894586153795275933</id><published>2007-02-21T12:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-21T12:36:53.477-08:00</updated><title type='text'>a very cool word</title><content type='html'>I was looking for a synonym of 'ring' in the thesaurus, and I found the neatest word I've heard in a long time:&lt;br /&gt;TINTINNBULATE!&lt;br /&gt;v. to ring or sound a bell. &lt;br /&gt;From Latin, tintinnabulum, 'small bell'. (How we got to &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;ring&lt;/span&gt; the bell out of simply 'bell', I don't know)&lt;br /&gt;You can look it up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-7894586153795275933?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7894586153795275933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=7894586153795275933' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/7894586153795275933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/7894586153795275933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/02/very-cool-word.html' title='a very cool word'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-2786090270509031769</id><published>2007-02-12T11:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-10T14:42:41.788-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Luther the Reformer: the story of the man and his career by James M. Kittleson</title><content type='html'>Martin Luther was born on November 10, 1483. His birth was so unknown that later he and some of his friends debated the date. He began school intending to be a lawyer, but after a few years vowed to become a monk. He was not a very happy monk, feeling weighed down by his sin. The Catholic procedures didn't seem to help. So he began to think, and slowly he thought of revolutinary ideas that led to the posting of The 95 Theses. Soon the whole Roman Empire had heard of him, and he was summoned to various councils, diets, and meetings. He wrote books on the demonic qualities of the pope and the Roman Church, the sins of indulgences and confessionals, and the need for a new church. He firmly stood by his beliefs to his death in1547. He was born an unknown pauper and died well-off and was mourned all across the Empire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good. It was easy to read, but also gave a pretty thorough background of his beliefs. It probably wouldn't be enough information for die-hard Lutherans, but it was good enough for me. I now know a lot more than I did, which was the point. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently Happy needs to be potty-trained again. Yuk.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-2786090270509031769?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/2786090270509031769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=2786090270509031769' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/2786090270509031769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/2786090270509031769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/02/luther-reformer-story-of-man-and-his.html' title='Luther the Reformer: the story of the man and his career by James M. Kittleson'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-2106676913657367050</id><published>2007-02-10T14:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-30T16:28:14.065-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Winter Rose by Patricia A. McKillip</title><content type='html'>Rois Melior has always wandered freely through the wood by her house. One day she meets Corbet Lynn. Soon rumors begin to fly about him. His father murdered his grandfather, and his grandfather's last words were supposedly a curse. Rois is curious, and begins looking for clues. She findes herself caught in a whirlwind of curses, the past, and the cruel winter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good. It's scary in a nice, shivery way. It's a little confusing because there's a lot of stuff going on, but you'll figure it out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-2106676913657367050?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/2106676913657367050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=2106676913657367050' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/2106676913657367050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/2106676913657367050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/02/winter-rose-by-patricia-mckillip.html' title='Winter Rose by Patricia A. McKillip'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-5296419619212343058</id><published>2007-01-30T16:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-30T16:28:14.515-08:00</updated><title type='text'>story part IV</title><content type='html'>Suddenly Bran was standing alone in a gray clearing, looking at a smooth rock. The cave had vanished. He went home wondering about his father. He tried to ask Gwen over dinner.&lt;br /&gt;“Mother, I...I was wondering about my father. Please tell me about him.”&lt;br /&gt;Gwen turned white. “He died,” she said thickly. “He’s dead. Leave the dead alone!”&lt;br /&gt;“But-”&lt;br /&gt;“No! I will not talk about him!”&lt;br /&gt;Bran angrily got up from his chair and strode out the door. He walked aimlessly for a while, forgetting the cold in the heat of his anger. Sigurd had said that part of his quest was to find out about his father. Maybe his mother could not tell because of Sigurd. It would not be very hard to find out if his mother sat down and told him. No, he would have to find it from another source. He went back to the cottage and climbed in bed.&lt;br /&gt;He and Rhys spent a lot of time together. They flew Kirsa, walked in the forest, sometimes Rhys would come to the moor and keep Bran company as he watched the sheep, or Bran would help Rhys on the farm. Their mothers got to know each other, and sometimes did laundry together. Rhys had two little sisters that he often had to watch. Bran had none and enjoyed watching their antics.&lt;br /&gt;One time all four went out together to hunt for berries. Suddenly the oldest, Eira, came running toward them. Her normally pale complexion was ashen.&lt;br /&gt;“Enid’s fallen in the river!” she gasped. “She can’t swim!”&lt;br /&gt;The boys ran to the water, and scanned it for the girl. &lt;br /&gt;“There!” cried Rhys, already jumping in. Bran ran down the river. He had a piece of cord in his pocket. Tying it around first a thick tree and then his waist, he too plunged in. He had had very little experience with swimming, and was thankful that the rope was strong. Rhys had spent some time in a nearby pond, and had already reached Enid. He struggled to get out of the currant. Bran stretched and grabbed his hand. Praying that the rope would hold, he pulled them in. &lt;br /&gt;All were sopping and shivering and coughing, but for some reason elated. Bran wondered if Sigurd had had something to do with it. It was a miracle that little Enid had lasted so long in the roiling water that the rope had not snapped, that he had been able to reach Rhys. And indeed, he heard a rustling of a cloak and saw a flash of white hair.&lt;br /&gt;Rhys gathered the frightened Enid into his arms and they walked back to the village. Rhys’ mother, Rhian, was working in the field as they approached. She was working vigorously with the hoe, and perspiration beaded her forehead. She looked up; saw the shivering children and Enid lying in Rhys’ arms. She gasped and ran forward.  &lt;br /&gt;“What happened? Enid, darling, are you all right?”&lt;br /&gt;“She fell in the river,” said Bran as Rhian scooped up the girl. “I think she’s all right.”&lt;br /&gt;And indeed, Enid looked fine. “Mother! I fell in the river! Rhys and Bran got me out all right, but I lost my bracelet Eira made.”&lt;br /&gt;“Come inside,” said Rhian, “You must get dry else you’ll catch cold. Never mind the bracelet, Enid.”&lt;br /&gt;“Thank you, mistress, but I should get home,” said Bran. “I’ll see you soon!”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-5296419619212343058?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/5296419619212343058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=5296419619212343058' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/5296419619212343058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/5296419619212343058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/01/story-part-iv.html' title='story part IV'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-8062096511450655058</id><published>2007-01-30T16:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-30T16:22:05.497-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Journey to the River Sea by Eva Ibotson</title><content type='html'>Maia is an orphan living at a girls' school in London. She finds out that she has relatives in Manaus, Brazil. They offer to take her. Along with her governess, Miss Minton, she realizes that her family has only taken her for her money, and really doesn't care about her. She makes friends with an actor, a boy running away from his inheritance, and a few Indians. Her family disapproves, but even they cannot keep her from following her heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really good. Ibbotson's books are hard to start, but once you do they are great. Like you find that Maia doesn't want to go to Brazil, and that her governess was fired from her former job for caning a boy. Great. Then you find out that her cousins are pigs and their parents are crazy. Now there's something of a plot. Then you're hooked.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-8062096511450655058?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/8062096511450655058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=8062096511450655058' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/8062096511450655058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/8062096511450655058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/01/journey-to-river-sea-by-eva-ibotson.html' title='Journey to the River Sea by Eva Ibotson'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-7872537495375975323</id><published>2007-01-28T14:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-28T14:29:46.284-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Little Women by Louisa May Alcott</title><content type='html'>Jo, Meg, Beth, and Amy all have their own troubles in the mid-eighteen hundreds. Meg longs for nice dresses and jewlery. Tomboy Jo is quick to get angry. Gentle Beth longs for a nice piano to practice her music on, and Amy longs to be a rich and famous artist. They manage to overcome these and be come their father's little women.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I liked it. I was a little worried at first, because I had read &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Pride and Prejudice and that was rather difficult, but it was very easy to understand. Their problems weren't so different from ours, except of course Dad isn't in Iraq, and I'm glad. I liked that they called Laurence Laurie. That was fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-7872537495375975323?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/7872537495375975323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=7872537495375975323' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/7872537495375975323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/7872537495375975323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/01/little-women-by-louisa-may-alcott.html' title='Little Women by Louisa May Alcott'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-8113379295083593531</id><published>2007-01-24T13:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T13:58:24.415-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Story part III</title><content type='html'>Sorry it's taken me so long.&lt;br /&gt;One day she sent him into the forest to fetch wood for the fire. Winter was coming on, and the wood was bleak and uninviting. His breath steaming from his mouth, he trudged to a fallen tree and began to hack at it with his axe. As he was stacking up logs to carry home, he heard a wheezy sound nearby. An old man carrying a heavy bundle staggered into view.&lt;br /&gt;“Please,” he gasped “Please help me, young man.”&lt;br /&gt;Bran strode forward to receive the sack. The man gestured for him to follow, and began walking. As he trailed the stranger, a note of uncertainty knelled in his heart. How did he know this man was a friend? Some of the villagers did not trust him and Gwen.&lt;br /&gt;He followed the man into the heart of the forest. They reached a large cave cut into the rock. &lt;br /&gt;“Inside,” said the man. His voice was warm and kind, a flame on the cold day. Bran sat down as the man lit a fire. A peregrine falcon landed on the man’s shoulder, and he stroked it as he sat down opposite Bran.&lt;br /&gt;“You are wondering who I am and why I brought you here,” said the man. “It certainly wasn’t for firewood. Some have called me Sigurd, and I will teach you how to survive your quest.”&lt;br /&gt;“I’m not on a quest,” said Bran.&lt;br /&gt;“Everyone has a quest. It is different for everyone, harder for some than others, but they have one. Yours is difficult...you have the weight of the kingdom on your shoulders, boy.” They sat in silence for a while. Bran watched the falcon.&lt;br /&gt;“What is its name?”&lt;br /&gt;“He is Ingegerd. He brings thunder with him, and guides those who are lost back to the paths. Look, his wings are silver like lightning.”&lt;br /&gt;“You said I have a quest. Can you tell me about it?”&lt;br /&gt;Sigurd sighed. “Everyone asks that, and I must say no to each. Your father could not have been the man he was if I had told him his destiny.”&lt;br /&gt;“You knew my father?”&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, I did.”&lt;br /&gt;“Please, tell me about him. My mother will not say anything except that he died in the war.”&lt;br /&gt;Sigurd seemed shocked. “She will not tell you?” he murmured. “Maybe I should not either, then. Hmmm....”&lt;br /&gt;“Sigurd-”&lt;br /&gt;“No. I will not tell you. That is part of your quest. You must find out who your father was, and to find the true king. Now go. Gwen will be worried. Don’t come back until you receive my sign.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-8113379295083593531?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/8113379295083593531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=8113379295083593531' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/8113379295083593531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/8113379295083593531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/01/story-part-iii.html' title='Story part III'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-6131373493382909175</id><published>2007-01-24T13:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T13:54:26.993-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Homesick: My Story  by Jean Fritz</title><content type='html'>Jean has lived in China all her life, but she longs to be 'American'. Her life seems to be a hodge-podge (!)of different cultures. They pray for King George at school, speaking Chinese on the banks of the Yangse, speaking English at home. Several small problems occur, but they are fixed pretty quickly, until the biggest thing of all happens: war.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I liked it. I don't hear a lot about China, and found it interesting historically. But Jean Fritz is also a great writer. She is funny, and knows how to make things that were rather boring in other books good. I have not read a biography that I really liked for a long time (not that I tried very hard), but I liked this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-6131373493382909175?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/6131373493382909175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=6131373493382909175' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/6131373493382909175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/6131373493382909175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2007/01/homesick-my-story-by-jean-fritz.html' title='Homesick: My Story  by Jean Fritz'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-116647360788444508</id><published>2006-12-18T12:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-18T12:26:47.910-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A RIng of Endless Light by Madeleine L'Engle</title><content type='html'>Vicky Austin is spending the summer at her grandfather's, watching him die of leukemia. THen comes Adam, a scientist with a special project on dolphins. He invites her to help, and they discover that she has a special thing with dopphins. This is confusing enough, but there is also Zachary and Leo. Amidst confusion and tragedy comes joy and light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very good. I don't understand why Leo is there, though. HE doesn't add much to the story. Also, Rob is seven and Suzy thirteen, but they act and talk like twelve and sixteen-year-olds. I enjoyed Adam and Basil.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-116647360788444508?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/116647360788444508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=116647360788444508' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/116647360788444508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/116647360788444508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2006/12/ring-of-endless-light-by-madeleine.html' title='A RIng of Endless Light by Madeleine L&apos;Engle'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-116450736804735743</id><published>2006-11-25T18:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-25T18:18:56.613-08:00</updated><title type='text'>story part II</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 27pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:11;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 27pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:100%;"  &gt;I don't know why it's double-spaced. I hope it's good. Need title ideas. ~Ruthie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 27pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:100%;"  &gt;“Bran! hi, Bran!”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 27pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Bran turned.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 27pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Rhys Andrasson ran up to him. “Are you entering the contest tomorrow?”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 27pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:100%;"  &gt;“What contest?”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 27pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:100%;"  &gt;“The falconing contest. The first falcon to get the lure and come back wins, and its master gets a gold coin! Are you entering?” &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 27pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Bran turned red. He had no falcon. They were too poor to buy a bird, and he had no father to teach him how to train one.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 27pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:100%;"  &gt;“No,” he muttered. “I’ve got to go home.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 27pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Rhys frowned. “tell you what,” he said “I’ll let you fly Kirsa, and if you’re better at it than I am you can fly him in the contest. We’ll split the coin. Good?”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 27pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:100%;"  &gt;“Yes!” &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 27pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:100%;"  &gt;They walked to one of the many fields surrounding the village. Rhys ran into his house and gently brought out Kirsa. He held her on his fist and then raised it to the sky. With a surging of wings she was off, and the boys watched her gleeful circles. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 27pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:100%;"  &gt;“Okay,” said Rhys, “Now hold up the lure, and whistle.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 27pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Bran whistled, and waited a moment, heart in his throat, watching the circling bird. He whistled again, and Kirsa plummeted from the heavens onto his fist. Rhys clapped.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 27pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:100%;"  &gt;“I’ve never gotten her to come that fast! Will you do it?”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 27pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:100%;"  &gt;“Of course! Besides, gold would be enough to feed us for a month! Let’s go again.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 27pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:11;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;They watched with pleasure as the falcon swooped and dived. Finally and with great reluctance, Bran returned home. He was happy, and a hole in his heart was filled at last. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;        Gwen was pleased that her son had a friend, and enjoyed asking him about his times with Rhys.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 27pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:11;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 27pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:11;"  &gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-116450736804735743?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/116450736804735743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=116450736804735743' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/116450736804735743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/116450736804735743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2006/11/story-part-ii.html' title='story part II'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-116311395743412475</id><published>2006-11-09T14:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T15:12:37.480-08:00</updated><title type='text'>my new story for NaNoWriMo</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 27pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;;"&gt;Long, long ago, there was a war between two great men. Arthur and Mordred fought for ten years until both were killed in the last battle. Mordred was thrown into a traitor’s grave, while Arthur was buried in Avalon. The country erupted into civil war, every nobleman wanting more power.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 27pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;;"&gt;Guinevere, the disgraced queen, had been sent out of the country. She went to a town by the sea, changing her name and settling into a peasant’s life, and no one was the wiser.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 27pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;;"&gt;The poor of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:country-region&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;;"&gt;Britain&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 11pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Bookman Old Style&amp;quot;;"&gt; said that Arthur had a son, who would bring back the peace of his father and stop their oppression. They waited and hoped while war raged around them, but when no warrior arrived they went back to work with heavy hearts.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://http://www.nanowrimo.org/"&gt;  NaNoWriMo &lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-116311395743412475?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/116311395743412475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=116311395743412475' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/116311395743412475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/116311395743412475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2006/11/my-new-story-for-nanowrimo.html' title='my new story for NaNoWriMo'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-116303971038168415</id><published>2006-11-08T18:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T14:40:20.323-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Enna Burning by Shannon Hale</title><content type='html'>Enna's brother, Leifer, has been burned to death by his own powers. She is horrified when she discovers that she has fire power too. But she cannot stop using it. They are at war, and the need to burn something is always pushing at her mind. Soon the fear of the fire-witch is in every Tiran camp. So they set a trap for her, and it worked. They put her on a drug that makes her unable to use her powers. The captain, Sileph, tricks her into thinking Bayern is wrong and Tira right. Soon she begins to burn for Tira. But seh figures it out and escapes. THe problem now is that the fire is eating her up from the inside. If they don't find a cure soon, she will die just like Leifer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good. It was an easy read. I wanted it to be longer, but really there was too much of Enna in the Tiran camp. I don't want to read 150 pages about believing Sileph. THey should have cut some of that out and turned it into battles or getting married to Finn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are reading Beowulf in Literature. It is good but sometimes confusing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started a book for NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) It's a continuation of King Arthur.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-116303971038168415?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/116303971038168415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=116303971038168415' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/116303971038168415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/116303971038168415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2006/11/enna-burning-by-shannon-hale.html' title='Enna Burning by Shannon Hale'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-116226300110038027</id><published>2006-10-30T17:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-10-30T18:50:01.170-08:00</updated><title type='text'>bookses</title><content type='html'>Hope was Here by Joan Bauer&lt;br /&gt;Hope and her aunt, Addie, are moving to Mulhoney, WIS, to work at a diner. Hope lives with Addie because her mother and father abandoned her. G.T., the owner, has leukemia, but he still begins to campaign for mayor against Eli Millstone. Addie is a cook and Hope a waitress at the Welcome Stairways. They are quickly accepted, and soon G.T. asks Addie out, and Braverman, the grill man, asks Hope out. G.T. is losing the campaign, and at the end he is behind 114 votes. They are crushed. The truth comes out though: 120 of Millstone's votes are fake. G.T. and Addie marry, and they adopt Hope. But only a year and a half after G.T. was elected,tradgedy strikes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good. It seems like too much, though. Why does G.T. have to die only a year and a half after they became a family?&lt;br /&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;Voyages of Slaves by Brian Jaques&lt;br /&gt;Adrift on the Mediterranean, Ben is captured by a pirate, Al Misurata, and Ned (a dog)thrown into the water. Ned is found by circus performers, the Rizzoli Troupe. They are soon reunited. Ben's master proposes to take the Troupe back to their homeland. He is under false pretenses, though. He plans to sell them into slavery. They set sail on the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sea Djinn, &lt;/span&gt;and soon Ben and Ned escape and find themselves aboard the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;White Ram&lt;/span&gt;. Al Misurata traps the Troupe. Ben and Ned then go aboard the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Blue Turtle,&lt;/span&gt; who takes them to a town close to the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sea Djinn's &lt;/span&gt;destination. They then go to the convent and rescue the Rizzoli Troupe. The pirates come afterthem, and again it is a bittersweet ending.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't be thrown off by the title, it's actually pretty good. I liked Kostas, captain of the Blue Turtle. He was funny. There was too much messing around, boring stuff&lt;br /&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;A Swiftly Tilting Planet by Madeline L'Engle&lt;br /&gt;On Thanksgiving day, Mr. Murry recieves a phone call about a madman's threat of nuclear war. Charles Wallace knows a rune, and after saying it, a unicorn, named Gaudior, comes. They cross very different times to set things right. First there is a fight between brothers, Madoc and Gwydyr, men who came to the Americas long before Columbas. Then to Brandon Llawcawe and his sister, and Indian, named Zille. Zille has been accused of witchcraft, but she is innocent. After that they go to Beezie and Chuck, and here the enemy win. Chuck dies by his sepfather's hand. Then to cIvil War times, where Matthew and Bran fight against Gedder just like Madoc. And because of all this, Mad Dog never made his threat, and instead a peace-loving man ruled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;very good. I loved Gaudior, he was so majestic, but funny at the same time. The time traveling was hard to get used to at first, but after a few reads it was OK. Wouldn't it be cool if some of that stuff really happened?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-116226300110038027?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/116226300110038027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=116226300110038027' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/116226300110038027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/116226300110038027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2006/10/bookses.html' title='bookses'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-116083942876550255</id><published>2006-10-14T08:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-14T08:23:48.776-07:00</updated><title type='text'>happenings</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0);"&gt;My birthday party is today! It's a progressive dinner. Fun! fun! fun!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;We're thinking about getting an RV! It's old,  but really cool. Dad almost couldn't fit on the bed!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 255);"&gt;James Taylor is growing on me. Listening to him right now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 102);"&gt;I started a new story! I think it's going to be pretty cool.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-116083942876550255?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/116083942876550255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=116083942876550255' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/116083942876550255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/116083942876550255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2006/10/happenings.html' title='happenings'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-116059992391122304</id><published>2006-10-11T13:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-11T14:17:09.120-07:00</updated><title type='text'>East by Edith Pattou</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://http://www.amazon.com/East-Edith-Pattou/dp/0152052216/sr=1-2/qid=1160600979/ref=pd_bbs_2/102-8344020-2072929?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books"&gt;East&lt;/a&gt;: Rose's family is poor, and the farm is doing badly. Then winter comes, and Sara falls dangerously ill. A white bear comes to the door, and asks for Rose in exchange for family wealth and health. SHe agrees, and they journey to the far north. Ater some time in the bear's castle, Rose begins to think he is enchanted. She begins to try to solve the mystery, but unfortunate events get in the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay. It was confusing, at first, that the chapters were named after characters, and that the chapter was told from sthe character's point of view. Some of the people weren't even in the story until much later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-116059992391122304?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/116059992391122304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=116059992391122304' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/116059992391122304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/116059992391122304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2006/10/east-by-edith-pattou.html' title='East by Edith Pattou'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-116057923909395281</id><published>2006-10-11T08:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-11T08:07:19.150-07:00</updated><title type='text'>strike!!</title><content type='html'>Todd! I AM NOT WORKING FOR YOU! Because you are annoying me so much, I'm not even going to make you cookies. SO STOP!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-116057923909395281?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/116057923909395281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=116057923909395281' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/116057923909395281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/116057923909395281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2006/10/strike.html' title='strike!!'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-115954979782518117</id><published>2006-09-29T10:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-29T10:09:57.850-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the latest resolution</title><content type='html'>I have just decided that when I'm older I'm going to get a big, black, fluffy Newfoundland and name him Fortinbras.&lt;br /&gt;~Ruth, now 12&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-115954979782518117?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115954979782518117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=115954979782518117' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/115954979782518117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/115954979782518117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2006/09/latest-resolution.html' title='the latest resolution'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-115923152024283712</id><published>2006-09-25T17:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-30T05:22:16.733-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bread and Roses, too by</title><content type='html'>Rosa is afraid for her family. Her mother and sister have joined the strike! She does not want them to die in the street, shot or trampled by the angry crowd. But they will not listen. Jake Beale is a boy of the street, reduced to stealing and lying by his drunkard father. He has had help from Rosa several times from Rosa already, and when he hears she will be sent to New York City, he is eager for the possibility. But after they are both on the train, he discovers they are not going to New York, but Vermont! Yet veront may not be so bad after all....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good! The story was pretty vague about the place and time, but I'm pretty sure it was in Massachusets during the Industrial Revolution. It was a little hard to follow at first, from the jacket it was about a girl, but the first chapter or so was about Jake. But I'm glad I kept at it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-115923152024283712?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115923152024283712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=115923152024283712' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/115923152024283712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/115923152024283712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2006/09/bread-and-roses-too-by.html' title='Bread and Roses, too by'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-115896342726620933</id><published>2006-09-22T15:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-23T05:20:29.806-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Hiding Place by Corrie ten Boom</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://http://www.amazon.com/Hiding-Place-Corrie-Ten-Boom/dp/0553256696/sr=8-1/qid=1159013559/ref=pd_bbs_1/102-8344020-2072929?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books"&gt;The Hiding Place&lt;/a&gt;: Corrie ten Boom is in her fifties when the Nazis attack Holand, and she and her family are soon part of the underground. They build a secret hiding place in Corrie's room for the six Jews that live with them to hide during raids. Yet they were betrayed, and the ten Boom family went to a concentration camp. This is the story of a family, who, through extreme pain and sorrow, came from it with a great faith in Christ and many other virtues that have influenced thousands others through her books, speeches, and homes for Holocaust victims.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can anyone get through this without changing? How I wish I could be more like Betsie, and through Betsie, Corrie! This story is meant to be sad, but it's like the sadness of a Christian funeral. There is mourning, but they have gone somewhere better, heaven. Rejoice!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-115896342726620933?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115896342726620933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=115896342726620933' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/115896342726620933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/115896342726620933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2006/09/hiding-place-by-corrie-ten-boom.html' title='The Hiding Place by Corrie ten Boom'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-115817844763522652</id><published>2006-09-13T12:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-13T13:14:07.710-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Volumes 3-4 Story of the World books by Susan Wise Bauer</title><content type='html'>Volume 3&lt;br /&gt;Early Modern Times&lt;br /&gt;The book opens with the Holy Roman Empire. Then you read about the spread of slavery, the great fire of London, the first American colonies, and Napolean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I enjoyed reading about the Aztecs and Incas of South America. Their culture was so different from ours, yet they were pretty close to us, maybe closer than England, or France, who we copied.&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;Volume 4&lt;br /&gt;The Modern Age&lt;br /&gt; the Grand Exposition in London, during the reign of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert. Then the Potato Famine of Ireland, the fall of the Ottoman Empire, and the rise of USSR and communism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish Mrs. Bauer would spend more time on the Revolutionary War or Canada or South American revolutions than the Peace of Versailles, or the railroad, or Middle East partitioning.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-115817844763522652?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115817844763522652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=115817844763522652' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/115817844763522652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/115817844763522652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2006/09/volumes-3-4-story-of-world-books-by.html' title='Volumes 3-4 Story of the World books by Susan Wise Bauer'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-115767125341825299</id><published>2006-09-07T16:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-08T14:11:32.333-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Story of the World&lt;br /&gt;History for the Classical Child&lt;br /&gt;Volume 1:Ancient Times by Susan Wise Bauer&lt;br /&gt;Ancient Times: The earliest nomads in the Fertile Crescent to the rise of Rome to the last Roman emperor. There's Greek, Norse, Chinese, and African mythology. The stories of empires all over the world-Roman, China, Egypt, and Islam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These books are cool! I enjoyed reading about the Egyptians and the Islamic Empire. I've always liked Egyptian things, and I didn't know hardly anything about the Islamic faith or its origin. But why would you make a six-year-old emperor of Rome? Sheesh.&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;Volume 2: The Middle Ages&lt;br /&gt;The Eastern Roman Empire has a new name now. What is it? Who discovered North America before Columbus? Covering the world up until the Elizabethan period, you learn even more amazing things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't it crazy what the royal family's relatives will do to get power? Like the English king who shut up the two princes in the Tower of London. I would be scared if I were heir and there were  envious uncles. But I'm a girl. -Sigh- (of relief)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;Happy Birthday Drew! He and his friends went to the Little River Zoo today. It was pretty neat. Who's ever petted a kangaroo or lynx?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-115767125341825299?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115767125341825299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=115767125341825299' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/115767125341825299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/115767125341825299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2006/09/story-of-world-history-for-classical.html' title=''/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-115620882527045078</id><published>2006-08-21T17:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-21T18:07:05.300-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Captains Courageous by Rudyard Kipling</title><content type='html'>Harvey Cheyne is stuck in the middle of the ocean among fishermen! He was rescued by one after falling overboared an ocean liner. As a pampered son of a multi-millionaire, he doesn't know a thing about boats, and hates the crew for not taking him home. But after a year among the crew, Harvey is changed....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rudyard Kipling is very good with accents and did a very good New English. I really dislike the name Harvey. Why would you name someone Harvey? I learned some things about boats too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gram took Anna shopping today. Anna's birthday is tomorrow. Anna told Gram what she wanted, and even got wrapping paper and picked out a card. An hour later, she opened it all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-115620882527045078?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115620882527045078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=115620882527045078' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/115620882527045078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/115620882527045078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2006/08/captains-courageous-by-rudyard-kipling.html' title='Captains Courageous by Rudyard Kipling'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-115550588208291293</id><published>2006-08-13T14:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-21T18:07:37.606-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a new story</title><content type='html'>For those of you who don't know, I want to be a writer when I grow up. I practice and let out (sometimes) crazy ideas. Here's a new story:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;    A procession of wagons rolled into the city's gates. The townspeople crowded round to see the strangers. The travelers smiled, but said nothing. A cloaked figure rode at the head. he turned his head to see around. Through the shadows of his hood, they could not see his face. A murmur rustled through the crowd.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;    The travelers were under the king's orders to rebuild a district near the city that had been ravaged by a fire, and ensure that the governor upheld the king's laws.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;    Work began at once. Mixed in with the soldiers were blacksmiths, carpenters, masons, and many other craftsmen. The hooded man oversaw everything. He was the king's heir; there were no princesses or princes. He was a magician. The workers called him 'Lord Thomas', and both feared him and were in awe of him. The people tried to stay away. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;    One windy day Thomas was watching men high up on the scaffolds. The woodwork wobbled. A sudden blast of wind sent it tumbling down &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);"&gt;-right on top of Thomas. He was rooted to the  spot until the last possible second, magic drained out of his mind, then he started to run. But with an almighty crash, it was upon him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Comments would be appreciated!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-115550588208291293?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115550588208291293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=115550588208291293' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/115550588208291293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/115550588208291293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2006/08/new-story.html' title='a new story'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-115531143923229273</id><published>2006-08-11T08:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-11T08:50:39.233-07:00</updated><title type='text'>stuff</title><content type='html'>&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Dad and Cal, Drew, Anna and I got back from Hamanha yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Aunt Heather, Renae, Megan, and Sara are coming today. We're going to take a picture of all of us, frame it, and give it to Gram for her birthday. The actual day was yesterday, the tenth.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;RAIN!!!! Finally!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;School starts in eleven days. I'm pretty ready.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I've got a new story going in my head. Once I get some of it on paper I'll post it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-115531143923229273?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115531143923229273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=115531143923229273' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/115531143923229273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/115531143923229273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2006/08/stuff.html' title='stuff'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-115531095194034995</id><published>2006-08-11T08:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-11T08:42:32.056-07:00</updated><title type='text'>bookes</title><content type='html'>First things first:&lt;br /&gt;Harry Potter and the  Prisoner of Azkaban by J.K. Rowling&lt;br /&gt;A mass murderer called Sirius Black is after Harry. Sirius has mysteriously escaped from the wizard prison, Azkaban. He's a known supporter of Lord Voldemort. But things aren't quite what they seem....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay. The Hogsmeade scenes don't make sense to me. Harry doesn't have the invisibility cloak on the first time, does he? But surely someone would know that he wasn't supposed to be there. Then when the throws mud at Malfoy, he has it. Why does he have it this time?&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;Stanford Wong Flunks Big-Time by Lisa Yee&lt;br /&gt;Stanford has just flunked sixth-grade English. Now, if he wants to do school next year, he must take summer school. Stanford's only motivation is that if he makes it, he'll be able to do A-team basketball. His parents hire the know-it-all, Millicent Min to tutor Stanford. This is torture. But through Millie, he meets the wonderful Emily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good. I don't think it was written very well, though. I liked the purple hair thing, though. It made me laugh. It was sad that his dad never thought good about him. Stanford got a B-, a huge improvement from Fs, and dad said, "Good. Try for an A next time." Sheesh. I'm glad Dad's not like that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-115531095194034995?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115531095194034995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=115531095194034995' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/115531095194034995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/115531095194034995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2006/08/bookes.html' title='bookes'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-115454168505753043</id><published>2006-08-02T10:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-02T11:01:35.476-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Montana Books</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0439554004/sr=1-1/qid=1154541154/ref=pd_bbs_1/102-8344020-2072929?ie=UTF8&amp;s=books"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0439554004/sr=1-1/qid=1154541154/ref=pd_bbs_1/102-8344020-2072929?ie=UTF8&amp;s=books" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0439554004/sr=1-1/qid=1154541154/ref=pd_bbs_1/102-8344020-2072929?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books"&gt;Inkheart&lt;/a&gt; by Cornelia Funke&lt;br /&gt;One dark night Meggie's dad reads from a book-Inkheart- and three people from the book appear in the livingroom. Basta and Capricorn try to get the book so they can go back into it. Dustfinger runs away. Mo gets them out of the house, but they are hunted by Capricorn's men. This will change their lives forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very good. I like Elinor a lot. Imagine having a whole house stuffed with books! She's too mean at first though. They're family after all. And it took too long to get to the point. Too many pages of nothing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-115454168505753043?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115454168505753043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=115454168505753043' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/115454168505753043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/115454168505753043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2006/08/montana-books.html' title='Montana Books'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-115314187920636709</id><published>2006-07-17T05:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-21T05:31:10.680-07:00</updated><title type='text'>i'm behind...again!</title><content type='html'>The Moorchild by Eloise McGraw&lt;br /&gt;Saaski is hated by the entire village.She plays tunes on the bagpipes that no one's ever heard. She hates rowan wood, salt, and St. John's wort.  She loves the moor. She can read the Folk's signs, and half-remember other fairy things. Old Bess says  that Saaski  has another name-a fairy name!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't like that it took so long for her to figure it out, or the scene with Bruman wanting in the Mound with her. I did like the part where she finally blended in with the roof. The villagers weren't expecting that!&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;Shabanu by Suzanne Fisher Staples&lt;br /&gt;Shabanu and her family live in the Cholistan Desert of Pakistan. She is the second daughter in a family with no sons, and has freedom other girls wouldn't dream of. When a wealthy man kills Shabanu's sister's husband-to-be, Shabanu is ordered to give up everything to uphold the family honor, or should she listen to her heart and do another forbidden thing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very suspenseful. It was hard to figure out what would happen. It was hard to figure out the time, though. One minute there's Jeeps, the next a very new old-fashioned Ferris Wheel.&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Upstairs Room by Johanna Reis&lt;br /&gt;Two Polish Jews have to go into hiding when the Second World War begins. They spend most of their time in a tiny room in the attic. They hate being inside all the time, but what can they do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is Johanna's own story. Isn't it amazing?!? There was a little too much of the boring attic. Opoe was funny. She was somewhat of a doomsdayer. I liked the discription of the signpost as a tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going to Montana tomorrow!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;Today's actually Friday the 21.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-115314187920636709?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115314187920636709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=115314187920636709' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/115314187920636709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/115314187920636709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2006/07/im-behindagain.html' title='i&apos;m behind...again!'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-115301390327686898</id><published>2006-07-15T18:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-17T05:42:14.166-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer of the Swans by Betsy Briars</title><content type='html'>Sara's little brother Charlie can't talk ever since he was three. Their mother is dead, and their father comes home only if he has to. Aunt Willie is their guardian. But when Charlie disappears, she's not so sure she is up to it. How will Charlie get back?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This book needed another twenty pages or more to finish it off. The dad never comes home, aunt Willie and Wanda never make up, they don't see the swans again. One of the best things about the book is when dyes her orange shoes baby blue and the resulting color: puce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 0, 0);"&gt;You step into a imagination station and see two girls holding gross tennis shoes. One is disgusted, the other is trying hard not to laugh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-115301390327686898?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115301390327686898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=115301390327686898' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/115301390327686898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/115301390327686898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2006/07/summer-of-swans-by-betsy-briars.html' title='Summer of the Swans by Betsy Briars'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-115179595947065014</id><published>2006-07-01T16:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-03T06:30:25.313-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a hatfullofskybyterrypratchett</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0060586621/qid=1151933107/sr=1-1/ref=sr_1_1/102-5720214-3455362?s=books&amp;v=glance&amp;amp;n=283155"&gt;A Hat Full of Sky&lt;/a&gt;: Tiffany Aching is off to learn how to be a witch. Miss Level, who has two bodies, is her mistress. Tiffany quickly has no friends except Petulia, a very timid witch, because she says the wrong things to Annagramma, the leader of the meeting. A hiver that will be named Arthur is searching for someone to use, someone with a lot of power...&lt;br /&gt;...like Tiffany.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The part where Petulia invites Tiffany to the meeting is funny. Quote,"...Annagramma says it's important to make contacts." "Annagramma's the leader, then, is she?" said Tiffany. "Um, no. Witches don't have leaders, Annagramma says." "Hmmm," said Tiffany. Annagramma is the leader. I also liked the bee dance at the end, because it was neat how the bees knew how to make a dress twirl as she spinned, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Going to Missouri today. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Not&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; Misery, Mr. Spears!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-115179595947065014?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115179595947065014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=115179595947065014' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/115179595947065014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/115179595947065014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2006/07/hatfullofskybyterrypratchett.html' title='a hatfullofskybyterrypratchett'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-115128678354809539</id><published>2006-06-25T18:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-28T12:08:48.150-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Holes by Louis Sachar</title><content type='html'>Because of his great-great-grandfather, Stanley Yelnats is stuck at Camp Green Lake. There is no lake, only tents, dirty people,yellow-spotted lizards, and holes. The boys there have committed a  crime, and had the choice of coming to Camp, or going to jail. They dig holes exatly 5 feet across and deep, 'for character'. Stanley soon realizes that something else besides character is being looked for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I enjoyed the three stories going on at once. They told you why this thing was like this and what Green Lake was like 100 yeards ago and foreshadowed things in Stanley's story. But I got confused sometimes. There wasn't much distinguishing between stories. I liked the creepiness of the story. I got shivery sometimes, like when the Warden scrached Mr. Sir with her venom-coated fingers. I could picture it really well, and Mr. Sir was gross.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);"&gt;I had a softball game yesterday, and instead of going an hour and fifteen minutes, it went two-and-a-half hours. We went into three overtimes! but the other team finally got one more point then us, and we lost. But we got fourth place in tournament!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-115128678354809539?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115128678354809539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=115128678354809539' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/115128678354809539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/115128678354809539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2006/06/holes-by-louis-sachar.html' title='Holes by Louis Sachar'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-115091770984346208</id><published>2006-06-21T12:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-21T12:25:52.776-07:00</updated><title type='text'>getting up to date</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"&gt;The last three postings are mixed up.  I started some a while ago, but finished todayish, so scroll down and check them out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;Happy has a gross sore on his neck. We took him to the vet yesterday, and they had to cut the scab off and prescribe pills. Poor puppy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);"&gt;I met a girl from Bolivia yesterday. Her name is Lu, short for Ludovica. She's really neat. She's staying the summer with her sister, Karla, who is a junior at OU. They'll give us Spanish culture lessons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 0);"&gt;This summer I'm going to try and read all the Newberry Medal books.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-115091770984346208?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115091770984346208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=115091770984346208' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/115091770984346208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/115091770984346208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2006/06/getting-up-to-date.html' title='getting up to date'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-115049412889149383</id><published>2006-06-16T14:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-19T05:54:36.986-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Own Two Feet by Beverley Cleary</title><content type='html'>This is an autobiography of Beverley Cleary, from the end of highschool to the publishing of her first book, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Henry Huggins&lt;/span&gt;. She went to junior colledge at Chaffey, California. Her family lived in Portland, Oregon, so she had to take long bus trips back and forth. She  then graduated and went to Berkeley, and fell in love with Clarence Cleary. Her parents did not approve. Beverley's dream was to get a degree of librarianship. she could not get it at berkeley, so she transferred to WA State. She and Clarence married. Pearl Harbor was bombed, and she was sent to an army library. When the war ended, they moved to San Francisco and Beverley began &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Henry Huggins&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find it more fun to read autobiographies than normal biographies because it is fresher, and more detailed than most biographies. Beverley Cleary is pretty funny. I had no idea she lived during the Depreession! Recommended.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Started taking Spanish lessons with Mrs. Payne. Very interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kira-Kira by Cynthia Kadohata&lt;br /&gt;Katie and her family move to Georgia in search of a better job. They move into a tiny house in a Japanese community, Katies parents have crazy work schedules, and no one is very happy. Katie follows her sister Lynn more than ever. Sammy is born, and things change again, for the better, mostly. Lynn has found a friend, Amber. Katie doesn't like her. It gets worse when Lynn stops doing stuff with her and doing strange things like walking around with books on her head. Amber is a fake friend, because she abandons Lynn when Lynn is discovered to have anemia. The family works harder than ever to pay medical bills. Then she comes down with lymphoma, too, and isn't likely to live very long. Katie doesn't know what to do without her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This made me cry. It is a most deserving Newberry Medal book. I enjoyed the part where Katie's dad smashed a car's windshield and afterwards they went to a  Mexican restaurante and Katie ate five tacos. I also like the part where they give their parents the money from not eating donuts, and the expressions described.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-115049412889149383?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/115049412889149383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=115049412889149383' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/115049412889149383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/115049412889149383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2006/06/my-own-two-feet-by-beverley-cleary.html' title='My Own Two Feet by Beverley Cleary'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-114918057305004171</id><published>2006-06-01T09:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-21T12:15:17.013-07:00</updated><title type='text'>books i read on recent trips</title><content type='html'>Went to FLA a few weeks ago, to see family last week, and books were  read.&lt;br /&gt;Martin the Warrior by Brian Jacques&lt;br /&gt;Martin is taken captive and made a slave by Badrang, the evil stoat. He, and two friends are rescued by Rose and Grumm of Noonvale. They are separated at sea. Martin, Rose, Grumm and a hedgehog journey to Noonvale to muster army against Badrang.The other two escapers  make soldiers out of actors and actresses. They fight. Badrang is winning, Martin's army comes....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; There was to much traveling of Rose, Grumm, and Martin. 200 pages of traveling, 10 in Noonvale. Parts where there were slave escapings were exciting. It was good when grumm tunneled to the pit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Crispin and the Cross of Lead by Avi&lt;br /&gt;Crispin is an orphan who doesn't know who his dad is. The priest tries to tell, but is murdered by the steward. Crispin is declared a wolf's head for murdering the priest and stealing money, but he did neither. A wolf's head means he can be killed on sight. Crispin runs away and meets Bear,&lt;br /&gt;a juggler. They go to  Great Wexley. Crispin finds out that the steward knows Lady Furnival. Bear is captured by Lady's soldiers. Crispin goes to save Bear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't like Avi's endings (from the 2 of her books i've read). Great plot, but really winds down. Steward saw Crispin at least 3 times after Crispin was declared a wolf's head, but never got him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-114918057305004171?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/114918057305004171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=114918057305004171' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/114918057305004171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/114918057305004171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2006/06/books-i-read-on-recent-trips.html' title='books i read on recent trips'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-114745206037090770</id><published>2006-05-12T09:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-12T09:41:00.393-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Lost City of Faar by D.J. MacHale</title><content type='html'>Bobby &lt;a href="http://http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/search-handle-url/102-5720214-3455362?%5Fencoding=UTF8&amp;search-type=ss&amp;amp;index=stripbooks%3Arelevance-above&amp;field-keywords=pendragon"&gt;Pendragon&lt;/a&gt; is in the flume again, this time on his way to Cloral. Cloral is a world where everyone lives on gigantic boats...almost everyone. Ledgend has it that a thousand years ago there was an island called Faar, where the first Clorans lived. It sunk like Atlantis, and was  never seen again. If there is such a place, it would be the perfect target to make the whole world fall into chaos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D.J. MacHale isn't the greatest writer, but he sure knows how to make you want to keep reading! Spader was pretty cool, everybody likes him, but why did he have to change so much? I liked the fish people a lot. 'Fake' mermaids and mermen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;Going to Florida tomorrow! Is it the Sunshine State, or is that somewhere else?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-114745206037090770?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/114745206037090770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=114745206037090770' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/114745206037090770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/114745206037090770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2006/05/lost-city-of-faar-by-dj-machale.html' title='The Lost City of Faar by D.J. MacHale'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11299887.post-114683442333083895</id><published>2006-05-05T05:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-05T06:07:03.343-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM!</title><content type='html'>Today is Mom's birthday! Wish her one.&lt;br /&gt;Here's a way to say it on the phone...&lt;br /&gt;1. call 822-5338&lt;br /&gt;2. then push(and maybe sing):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hap-py Birth-day to you,&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;1       1    2         1     #   6&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hap-py Birth-day to you,&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;1       1     2        1    #    3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hap-py Birth-day dear mom (or Julie)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;1       1    #        #      8     4 ? 1&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hap-py Birth-day to you!&lt;br /&gt;#        #    &lt;/span&gt;6&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;       &lt;/span&gt;4      2    1&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11299887-114683442333083895?l=ruthiegirl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/feeds/114683442333083895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11299887&amp;postID=114683442333083895' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/114683442333083895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11299887/posts/default/114683442333083895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruthiegirl.blogspot.com/2006/05/happy-birthday-mom.html' title='HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM!'/><author><name>OneoftheServens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11712887220581395352</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='22' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nm9DVqlFS00/SMvtHL1OMrI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2KG_IqeDyQQ/S220/DSC01179.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
