Project

Welcome, welcome.

You have found your self here: on Ellie's semi-kept-up blog.

Lots of tidbits and nothingness reside here. Don't feel obligated to read anything.

If you're interested, here's a random blog I wrote (+photos) while traveling in New Zealand in 2012: newsieland.wordpress.com

With love,

Ellie

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

All things bright and beautiful.

This evening I went stocking stuffer shopping for my littlest bro, Will. I walked in the store at 10:48pm and the store closed at 11. So I hurriedly squeaked along the isles looking for something sufficient to put in his stocking. Something that he'd like. Course, It'd have to be something that held a little meaning for him. Perhaps it might also need to symbolize an inside joke we had together. And then, obviously, it must be cheep--cause it's a stocking stuffer, for goodness sakes. Anyway, I wandered through the store; constantly on my mind that it would close in a few minutes.

After slowly scanning down an isle I found myself stopping at the intersections and staring around me; mostly staring at nothing. In a moment I'd be back to my mission--something for Will. Something he'd like. Then I'm staring again; this time I'm unconsciously watching a couple of women shop in the mens section:

"Yeah, he'd definitely like that."
"You think so? It does kind of look like him. Do you think I should get him this, or the socks we were looking at before...?"
"I say this. These are more his style."
"Yeah... Yeah, you're right. Okay. Good. That's done then."
"So lets think--we have the three boys, Emily and Jessie and then dad. I think we're done!"

Pretty soon I'm quickly walking through isles again, glancing at things; not really looking, not really thinking about the gift; thinking about the silence, how all of the roads were nearly deserted at this time, how the nearly full moon shone through the car on my promise ring.

Come on, Ellie. Just choose something!

I walk to the check out stands and squat down to look at the little wall of miscellaneous things they try to tempt you with as you wait in line to check out. A car freshener. Lip gloss. Nail clippers. Gum. Gum. More gum. I grab one of those barrels of gum. The spearmint kind.

I wander to the self-check-out and scan the gum, pay, take the receipt and walk out into the cold air to my car.

Empty roads. Fog stretches low over a frosted landscape, illuminated by a moon so bright it's all I can think about.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

I care. No, really--I care.

Grumpy. Really grumpy. No cure. None.

Naturally the mind wanders to what you can do for others to make their holiday season brighter.

What CAN you do?

What's the balance between caring and overloading yourself?

How do you find those people who need cheering up the most?

That has sentence had a perfect amount of spaces and letters to perfectly line up with the sentence before it. That's crazy. Craziness, I tell you.

How come it's so much easier to get inspired than it is to act upon the inspiration?

Monday, December 20, 2010

Tradition!

One year later. Christmas is coming back. It's taking another 364 days, but in due time it'll arrive. And I'm glad to see it almost here.

So much of Christmas time for families seems to be centered around traditions. Stockings, presents, advent, Christmas Eve church service. Then there's all the little traditions your family comes up with. Coffee cake, oranges, sausages and coffee for breakfast. Stockings first in the morning. Presents after we eat. The sock hop--we get new socks, put them on and dance like it ain't no thang to the "Christmas Polka". Exchanging names for gifts. Wearing PJ's all day. Reading your new books and taking naps after the present wrapping is over for the morning. Going to Grandpa and Grandma's for a game night. Blowing a train whistle to wake up the house Christmas morning (that one is on the edge of getting vetoed--pretty sure the majority of the house, excluding Will, find it excessively annoying). Opening one present at a time. Listening to Christmas music from Thanksgiving until it's finally boxed and put in the barn.

Traditions are good. They're familiar. But is that why they're so good? Doesn't familiar get boring? And Christmas should most definitely not be boring... So what the heck is with traditions? You tell me.

Monday, December 6, 2010

Dear Norton Reader Book,

I'd appreciate it if you'd show up so I don't have to trudge to the book store with my head down to tell them I lost it. You wouldn't wish that upon me, now would you?

I thought not.

Thanks.

Your loving rental owner,

Ellie May Brain