5 Serendip: A fortuitous alignment of eyes:

The princes were happy too. They worked on various projects around the kingdom. Using their education they were able to improve the lives of many Serendipians. For although, as we have learned the people of Serendip were a generally happy and clever people, blessed with particularly excellent weather conditions, they still were quite amazed when their beloved Prince Saud worked out a way to grow flowers which bloomed all the way until November 26th, more than a week after the rains started. Prince Admir was much celebrated for organizing a national rugby league and designing an environmentally friendly stadium for the players and people to use.

Zaki, well, Prince Zaki was a dreamer, which made people think him young, though he was only ever a year and some months behind Saud. This youngest Prince was still trying to decide what his first great accomplishment for the glorification of Serendip would be. Sometimes Zaki would retreat to the Crypt, now quite abandoned by his brothers and Diana, to try and meditate on the many challenges that daily life presented the hardworking people of Serendip, but somehow he would always find himself hunched over the old round table plotting courses on the worn out maps and charts. Despite his lack of outward achievement the people of Serendip, and his father, loved him just the same. All the Serendipians placed great faith in the young princes and their capability of ruling their lovely land one day.

The king also had great faith in his boys knowing that now as they were now quite grown into men and that at least one of them must one day be responsible to take his place. And yet, and yet, My Most Darling—there must always been an ‘and yet’ or here our pleasant story would end—the king knew that there was still a great deal for the princes to learn of the world they lived in. He was positively certain that no amount of reading descriptions, or looking at pictures and maps of the strange lands that lay beyond the sea of dragons would equal actually going to these places. The king knew from his own long life that there were many kinds of people in the world and that each kind had its own way of living their lives. He knew very well that in order for the princes to fully appreciate the glorious land of Serendip they needed to see the gloriousness, and ingloriousness of other lands. And so, though the thought of bidding farewell to his beloved sons for even a short time made this brave king very uncomfortable, he settled upon the idea. The princes must leave.

The king knew that his sons, though they had spent their boyhood in constant talk of adventures in distant lands, did not wish to leave him. Only in Prince Zaki’s eyes did he ever catch a sort of far away look that he thought he could call wanderlust. Saud and Admir were both very busy with projects and council meetings, and now seemed content to remain in Serendip forever. The king also noticed a different sort of look in Prince Admir’s eyes that seemed to transpire whenever it so happened that Mrs. Soup’s daughter, Diana, came too near him. And if His Majesty was not mistaken, her eye seemed to take on a similar reflection in the same circumstances.

It was at dinner one night that the king realized that he must make up his mind about the princes departure sooner rather than later. The table was set for six; the party being made up of the royal family, Mrs. Soup, and Diana. The six of them shared their meals in this way as often as matters of state would permit. For Mrs. Soup liked few things better than getting to serve up her meals herself. And the king was resolute about liking few things more than watching her partake in her own creations. The children, not at all children anymore, always enjoyed spending an evening together in discussion of their current projects, and to argue about books, and things. This night the conversation was thus:

Diana: “I think not Saud. I found Hesparsian’s theory to be far too simplistic. The possibility of finding life, as we think of it, with in our own solar system is very unlikely.

King: “Mrs. Soup, this lasagna is to be commended. Truly glorious.” Mrs. Soup: “So please you, Highness.”

Saud: “How can you say so? He has laid the evidenced before us. It is selfish to imagine that there is nothing there only because we cannot imagine the…yes thank you Cookie, I adore your green beans…form which that life might take.”

Zaki: “I agree. About the beans and Hesparsian too. How do you get the lemon pepper just right every time Cookie? I should love to build some kind of space craft one day.”

Diana: “Oh, never mind about that, I mean the space craft. The beans are lovely Mami. If Hesparian is right you would be long dead before you could get to any of these planets. I am sure I agree with him that there can be no way of breathing in the outer reaches of our atmosphere. Remember how fatigued we became just hiking the peak of Mt. Frang last summer? It is considerably higher than Frangipannini. Even dear Admir nearly fainted. I am sure the air becomes thinner with increased elevation. How shall we further test our theory Admir?”

Admir:“Yes?” It should be noted here that Admir had been looking quite fixedly at Diana for most of the meal, but she had not yet noticed.

Diana: “Did you not…Oh.”

With this ‘oh,’ Diana stopped suddenly, as if surprised. Her eyes had locked with the eyes of Admir and what she saw in them had caused her to entirely forget about atmospheric pressure.

At this same ‘oh’ the king looked up expectantly from his lasagna at Diana, and then at his son. He saw in both their eyes that look which we have described above. Though the king had only begun to take note of it a few weeks before, in truth, it had been increasing in frequency since long before the hike of Mt. Frang. With the increasing frequency of this look it was inevitable that the look should appear in both Admir’s and Diana’s eyes at the same moment, and that they, at that moment, should eventually be looking at one another. But this alignment of eyes and looks had not occurred until this moment. So it was that from three chairs apart, over a table of perfect green beans and glorious lasagna, Diana and Prince Admir discovered that they were in love, and had been for some time. The king noticed also that Mrs. Soup, her cheerful eyes more anxious than usual, seemed to be observing him observing their children. The king wondered if Mrs. Soup was wondering what he was thinking. To be frank, the king wasn’t sure what to think about what had suddenly become exquisitely clear to everyone at the table. But he was sure that for all concerned this dinner table was not the appropriate time to silently contemplate the matter. He interrupted the rather extensive pause thus:

King: “I declare, Mrs. Soup, this has been a rare meal! The only thing to top it would be an indelicate serving of custard pie. Can we all agree on that?

These loud words caused the five pairs of eyes at the table to turn suddenly to the king smiling their agreement.

After getting into his large and comfortable bed that night the king found he could not sleep. He drifted once, enjoying a short dream of Zaki riding a green bean among the stars. When he next shut his eyes, he clearly saw Admir’s eyes before him. He knew very well the look he had seen in them. After all, Admir’s eyes were an exact replica of his mother the Queen’s own gold-dappled eyes. To the king it seemed merely days, or hours even, since he had last seen that peculiar expression of love in her eyes, though she had been gone fifteen years. As he lay there he compared the identical pairs of eyes, their expression, their intensity, their hope, he realized that further delay of the princes’ departure would sharply increase the pain of separation for Diana and Admir. Even now it would be difficult. As he drifted back into sleep he determined to send the princes off within the week. This time he dreamed of himself flying through a brilliant night sky toward a bright star very much like eyes of his Queen.

WHAM!: Hero-ed.

AKA: Shakespeare Lady!

What is the Walking Monarch’s true identity? Who can say? She walks among us… Thank you Shakespeare Lady!

And thank you, Heather Z, for this amazing link to The Hero Factory. Pretty much made me late for work this morning. But toally worth it. (The Bonnie Tyler alone was worth it.)

Anti-Antsinthepantsitis:

There are more dam jokes to be made, Horatio, than are dreamt of in you philosophy.

I found a cure for my case of antsinthepantsitis: His name is Bubba Jackson. He is hot. We have fun together, and look good doing it. Also, we travel a lot which helps.

This is us at the Hoover dam this weekend. We spontaneously stopped in the dam parking lot for a short dam look. There wasn’t too much dam traffic going south. The dam traffic is always worse going into Vegas. We didn’t take the dam tour and the dam gift shop was already closed. But I think the dam sunset was pretty enough. Bubba really wanted to get a closer look at the dam bridge they are building, but we were too dam lazy (whooops!) to walk over to see it.

This post in in direct correlation to the precipitous drop off in interesting comments I have had of late. I thought a little personal dishing and swearing would be enough to juice things up.

Serendip, Chapter 4

From which we must consider the strange possibility of an interior attack on the castle of Serendip:

Still a few more years passed and now the Princes’ teachers began to report to the king that there was not much else that could be taught to them within the confines of the glorious land of Serendip. The Princes, and Diana too, had long since read every book worth reading in the palace, and perhaps the whole of the kingdom. The Princes had visited nearly every inch of that worthy land. They had met with almost every citizen. Even Silda and her daughter had spent a few moments with them. And though Orbin had by that time been married several months to the son of the old palace gardener, she freely admitted feeling a bit faint at being so near to those handsome young princes who she had dreamed of for so long.

Their kind father was now older too. He was very proud of his sons. He knew that they were now very close to what he had always wanted them to be. They were strong and handsome, yes, but this was nothing to him. What tickled the king was how his sons were able to look at everything thing around them carefully. After they looked, they thought about all the things they saw more carefully. And then they and spoke about what they saw most carefully of all. My Dearest, there is wisdom in that. Maybe you should read it again. These sagacious qualities were exactly what the king had hoped his sons would gain from their top-notch education. As an added bonus though, the king found something even more wonderful had come along with the development of their minds. And in the end, it was this unlooked for quality that pleased the king most. It was kindness. The Princes were kind, honest, and generous with everyone they met. They were kind to him, kind to each other, and they were even kind when they thought no one would know the difference.

The king of Serendip received a first hand assurance of this fact by accident one day when he may or may not have been trying to make off with one of Mrs. Soup’s custard pies. Here, My Darling, is the story as well as it can be pieced together:

His Majesty found himself in the kitchen. He freely admitted to having taken up the pie in question in his arms, “To, merely, test its weight” he said later. Next, there was some business about being compelled to rush into the pantry, pie in hand, in an attempt to catch a jar of summer peaches from sliding off a shelf. Perhaps, but whatever the reason, on this warmish summer day, the very king of Serendip found himself shut in a pantry with a custard pie in one hand, and a jar of peaches in the other, just as the young son of the new gardener bust into the kitchen, crying loudly.

The boy dropped himself on the hearth, head in hands for a few moments when Prince Saud and Prince Zaki entered the kitchen. Later, they too recalled having known something about Cookie making a custard pie that day, but they were never able to give a definite reason for having entered the kitchen that afternoon. At once seeing and hearing the boy in the hearth they stopped suddenly considering what to do. “

Marcus?” said Zaki, “Is that you?”

Now the king was a very good man, but he certainly didn’t know the names of every child that lived in and around the palace. He was pleasantly surprised that Zaki had been able to call this curled-up-heap of a child by name.

“Ahugh-sniff” replied the boy, or something to that effect. “

Marcus what is the matter?” asked Saud as he swiftly crossed the kitchen. “Are you hurt?”

“Gno.” howled the boy. The princes, after a little thought, interpreted this to mean ‘no’ and therefore deemed the boy’s trouble to be something other than immediate physical danger. The princes took a seat on either side of the poor child, and Zaki said, “Mark-my-man, what’s the trouble?”

The boy lifted his body from the cold stone and wiped his nose across the whole of his arm in one great sweeping motion, and said “Everyone hates bee.” Glad of their many years of linguistic study the princes continued their interpretations.

“I’m sure that’s not true.” said Saud.

“They do. And it’s by fault.” They gave him a moment to catch his halting breath again. “I told them that I could, but I couldn’t! Why did I tell them dat!” wailed the child.

“You told them you could climb the courtyard wall?” asked Zaki gently. Marcus turned his wet, brown eyes to Zaki, and then to Saud, realizing for the first time who his comforters were. With a shocked look, the boy took a second great sniff and asked, “How did you know dat?”

“Oh that was pretty easy. I can see from the way you are sitting that your backside is feeling tender, and” continued Zaki, “I see that you have some chrysanthemum petals still stuck in your hair, from the flower bed under the north wall of the courtyard.”

“And,” interrupted Saud, “that is just how Prince Zaki looked when he fell trying to climb the same wall, but he was a little older than you when he tried it. Did you really get to above the second window, Marcus?”

Marcus’s eyes were saucer like, but his voice came out a little proud, “Yes. How did you know that? Did you see me?”

Saud plucked a few wood splinters out from Marcus well worn sandal. “See the paint on this wood is just the color of that window ledge on the second floor. Boy, Zaki,” He turned his eyes to his brother, “you didn’t get that high, did you?”

Zaki looked seriously at Marcus, “Not even close.”

“Really?” Marcus, half smiled from one to the other.

“No,” Said Zaki, “and when I told the King what happened, he told me that those walls were built to withstand any attack, and are supposed to be impossible to climb for anyone. So I would say that what you have done today is a glorious feat of the human body.”

“Really?” Marcus was grinning now.

“Oh, absolutely. You probably shouldn’t attempt it again though. If the guards were to see you mounting an attack so successfully, well, I don’t want to be responsible for what could happen to you.” warned Saud.

Marcus was getting on his feet now, “Oh no. And I’ll warn the other boys too. Thank you Highnesses.” The boy started to turn away, headed back out to the courtyard.

“And Mark,” Zacki called him back, “Please don’t tell the other boys that you got higher than I did when I tried it. Especially since I was almost 11 and you are so much littler. How old are you?”

“Eight, Highness, and Yes, Your Highness, I mean, No, Your Highness, I won’t tell anyone.” And with that Marcus was off and running back into the courtyard.

The two princes sat quietly for a moment on the hearth, until their heard Marcus, now half way across the grounds shouting to the other boys, “Guess what the Princes told me! Guess what!” Both Princes were sure it would be a few days before all the boys in the court stopped whispering about how Marcus had nearly been shot off the wall by the guards, and how he had done what even the Princes couldn’t manage. Sharing a little smile with one another the Princes stood, and seeming to forget what they had first come into the kitchen for, they left.

The king was very pleased with what he saw from the pantry that afternoon. Mrs. Soup never could discover what had happened to the custard pie she had made, and sadly she scolded one of Marcus’s young friends when she found a jar of summer peaches half empty in the back of the pantry some weeks later.

Serendip, Chapter 3 (It’s been more than a week)

And insults that Shakespeare would be proud of:

From that day on Diana joined their lessons. In the beginning she was far behind the princes. She had never heard of such things as sub-atomic particles, which you will remember, Dearest, the princes had studied months before. But the King and Cookie had been right in their assessment of her as a clever girl and with in a few months the fine tutors were reading her compositions to the princes and she was besting them at all the equation time trials. They still teased her when the chance arose, but not with the ease that they had done. They soon learned that she could fling an insult back at them with greater wit and in perfect iambic pentameter too.

As the years sailed on the princes came to look at her as one of their own. She was allowed to participate in their high councils on thinking of new and grander ways to glorify the great nation of Serendip.

The four would meet in formal state in their favorite study in the highest room of the tallest tower of the palace. Before becoming fully aware of the meaning of the word the Princes had named their favorite room the Crypt. The boys sat around a circular table in the Crypt and discussed their future adventures and accomplishments for hours, just as they saw their father and his councilmen do in the great meeting hall across the city. And though they normally found their father’s state meetings tedious, their own councils were marvelous. The Crypt contained stacks of books with detailed accounts of distant lands. Its walls were adorned with pictures Diana had painted of tall peaks, wide rivers, and vast deserts. In it Zaki would pour over charts of star systems, ocean currents, and calendars. Admir’s half finished banners and ensigns were strewn over chairs. Saud had littered the floor with crumpled drawings of hideous beasts and monsters, and the fantastic weapons with which they would one day fight.

During their state meetings Diana was officially slated to serve only as scribe: a fancy word for note taker. But she often found herself loudly criticizing the princes far-fetched and far-flung ideas about saving the world. Like her practical mother Diana could see little use in the grand schemes of her royal schoolmates. Her objections usually landed her back in the kitchen boiling marmalade with her mother. The boys would not abide any pessimistic views on their dreams. And it seemed that of all the subjects the small class studied the most difficult for Diana to master was her own mouth. Mastering art of speaking kindly and prudently took a great deal of practice, and was learned mainly through trial and error. On the days when she was banished to the kitchen her mother would listen with a grave mouth and knowing eyes as Diana complained loudly against the unfairness of the princes, and then the world at large.

As the only thing that irked her more than the irksome princes was irksome kitchen work, she learned to hold her tongue. Eventually, Diana discovered she could remain in the Princes council meetings by offering constructive ideas. It didn’t usually take the boys long to recognize that she was correct about the ludicrous nature of their campaigns.

One day however, listening to Saud and Zaki bicker yet again about the fine points of their next sub-Saharan adventure Diana felt a surge of her old tongue and couldn’t help but fling up both hands in despair, proclaiming, “Oh, that would never work!”

“How would you know, Miss High and Mighty?” asked Admir. Though in his heart Admir was inclined to agree with her, he only felt it right to defend his brothers.

“Your Highness’ do not yet grasp the point.” She replied in perfect ten syllable structure.

“Remind us, My Lady Wisdom, what is the point.” asked Saud.

Diana rose from her seat. “We wish to solve problems, not create new ones. Attempting to discover the medicinal properties of rhinoceros horn, assuming that there are any, is only going to end up wiping out rhinoceroses. I still say that before any major expedition can be mounted we must be rid of the dreadful dragons.”

As she spoke she unconsciously smoothed her tunic and ran her fingers through her long, dark hair. Prince Admir suddenly found he was having a difficult time thinking about medicine, rhinoceroses, or even his brother’s honor. As he watched her begin to circle the room he was suddenly clearly aware that she was 15, he was 16 and she was not at all a boy. He wondered to himself when this had changed.

Zaki, who was now an astute 12 years old saw his brother’s perplexed look, but did not see to what or whom it was directed. “What’s wrong Admir?” he queried.

“Diana is right.” said Admir unruffled.

Suddenly and decidedly, he stood, tall and handsome.

“And I am getting too old for these make believe adventures.” And with that he crossed the room and went out the door, making banners, charts, pictures, and Diana’s heart all flutter a very little as he went.

It was the last day the four of them would meet with any seriousness in the Crypt. For, My Dearest, it is a known fact that when once the oldest child in a family makes up his mind to grow-up the younger children begin to feel hurried about doing the same. Saud and Zaki would still retreat to the Crypt occasionally and talk in hushed tones about their latest imaginings, but usually these discussions were short, and ended with sad smiles, as if they knew deep down that the seriousness of their former plans was all now just a children’s game.

As for Diana, the boys never again saw her in the Crypt. Though once Admir thought he saw a shadow much like hers dart behind the curtains when he came in unexpectedly in search of a book. By that time though he was nearly 19, and knowing that at nearly 18 Diana would not want to be found hiding in their former playroom he thought it best not to check behind the drapes.

Review:

I think this chapter is a bit on the cheesy side. It shows the princes’ development and also the beginnings of the Admir/Diana romance. I also like the feeling of the Crypt. I wish I had a cool room like that when I was in my adolescent dreaming phase. Thoughts?

1st Quarter books in review:

So, you know, I love to read. I decided to keep a record of the books that I read, and how I liked or didn’t like them. This will be the first post of quite a few this year I expect. Maybe someday when I grow up I’ll review all the books that are already on my book list a few pages over. For what it’s worth–enjoy.

Bridge To Terabithia: 2 days. I loved the reality of these characters. This author knows that children are not stupid. She understands that they feel just as much, or even more rawly that adults often do. The relationships between Jesse, his parents and his sisters were difficult and very real. At the same time the author is able to capture the joy and mystery of the world of pretend. Leslie and Jesse’s ventures into Terabithia flow seamlessly from crystalline reality to self-aware pretense. I was bothered by the choppy nature of the chapters and wish there could have been more to draw them together. Also the denouement seemed a little too neat, but I couldn’t have come up with anything better. (I also enjoyed the 2007 film, which captures the essence and takes out some of the hard edges of the plot, i.e. Janice Avery’s father being abusive.)

The Tale of Despereaux: 3 days. This was a (one of the) book club book last year (that I didn’t get around to reading). I was really excited about it, but I was sadly let down. The prose was beautiful, there were some lovely ideas, and strong narrative voice, but I was left feeling that the author was over- acheiveing. The characters came off a bit unsteady, and the plot seemed unsure of it’s purpose. There was one page somewhere toward the end that I remember likeing very much. If I ever do finish my book this will be a good example to me of a few very tricky slips to avoid.

Tales of Beedle the Bard: 1 day. I actually had read all the tales back when they were first released on Amazon. My hard bound new copy came with insightful commentary from Prof. Dumbledore. How could I resist. The tales were equally enjoyable the second time through and carried greater meaning with combined with JK’s wonderful insight through the voice of her most beloved character. I especially loved the tale of the three witches and the Fountain of Fair Fortune. It reminded me of my own sagacious princes.  

The Peacegiver: 2.5 days. I liked it. It wasn’t what I had expected. I didn’t realize it was going to be so fictionalized. I have reflected on it several times since I finished. I would recommend it to anyone who has ever had a hard time forgiving others, themselves, or thinking that they didn’t need to. I guess that’s pretty much everyone. The unexplored facets of the atonement shared through the old testament tales of Abigail and Jonah  were powerful and thought provoking.

Serendip Continues…

I previously shared with my beloved-blogity friends chapter 2 of my work in progress: The Three Princes of Serendip. The very unfortunate collapse of my hard-drive over Christmas taught me the importance of not procrastinating the days of my publication-probation and so I have decided, hastily, to share what I have written in small, chronological chunks. I’ll try to post a chapter a week. (Feww, I put in print—that should make me more likely to do it.) Feel free to share input as you desire. I’d love to hear from you, unless you are going to be rude, in which case keep it to yourself. In this introductory chapter we learn a few things about the Glorious Land of Serendip and some it’s delightful and not-delightful inhabitants.

Without further ado:

The Three Princes of Serendip

by Miranda Giles

Chapter 1: After which Silda altogether avoided worrisome melanomas:

There once was a land, My Dearest most darling, where the sun shone nearly every day. In fact, it shone every day from May the ninth until November seventeenth exactly. In between these days it was cloudy in the morning, somewhat rainy in the afternoon, and clear and nippy at night. Once, about twenty-three years before our story begins, on May twelfth the people woke up to find that the sun was not shinning. It was cloudy, just as it had been on May eighth. Several persons very nearly threw them selves off a peak of Mt. Frangipanini that morning believing that it must be the end of the world. Luckily, just as they reached the heights of that steep summit the clouds parted, the sun shone out, and life went on just as it had every other year.

The people of Serendip, for it is the peculiar name of this land, were a rather jumpy lot. They were generally happy, very often generous, and were most especially known for their cleverness. This is no poor combination for making a prosperous country, but they had one very troublesome problem that kept them from developing mutually beneficial international relations. Dragons.

No one could quite remember when the dragons had first appeared in the waters surrounding the island nation. The very old sometimes asserted that there had been no dragons in their youth, though they seemed to have a penchant for remembering things to have been much pleasanter in general in their youth. However, most of the middle aged agreed that the problem had grown worse during their life time.

Silda, a hair dresser of no small reputation, would tell anyone who would hear it the story of her first encounter with dragons. She had been on a whale-watching trip with her older cousins. They hadn’t seen any whales, not really being sure that it was even the right season for whales to be near Serendip, when they suddenly felt a cold chill come over them. Now, this was more than unusual for the cousins because it was August twenty-first and there were not supposed to be any cold chills for another fifty-eight days. This was the biggest problem with the sea dragons of Serendip. Not only could they bite a boat right in half and ingest a poor sailor in one swallow, just as a python eats a mouse, but they also seemed to put off an unsettling air of fear and mistrust when anyone got with in ten feet of them. Perhaps it was that awful atmospheric change, rather than the weakness ship hulls that was the real reason that the wealthy merchants and regal kings of other lands avoided Serendip. It gave them the heebie-jeebies to imagine crossing that little bit of water.

But as I was saying, Silda believed that after noticing the cold chill she had caught a glimpse of a dragon tail that day. It had been black with a terrible ridge of yellow spikes on its back. Though her boat was not attacked that day, it was the last time Silda ever went with in 100 yards of the sea. But, like most Serendipians Silda could find a silver lining even around the cloud of the sea monsters, “We’ve never had a problem with pirates here in Serendip, and I’ve not had a sunburn since that day either.”

And if anyone missed the previous post—here is chapter two (slightly reedited.)

Chapter 2: Genetic Heredity and Custard:

Serendip, being, My Dearest, if you haven’t yet guessed, a fairytaleish sort of land, had pretty good king with three handsome sons. (I never could discover what had happened to their mother, it was all very ‘hush-hush.” As far as I could gather, it had something to do with a lawn chair or a stray goat, but no one will say for sure.) The king had been ruling for many ears and the people loved him only a little less than they had on his first day. He blamed the loss squarely on the dragons. But it was more likely a symptom of the boredom that had inevitably settled on a country that had enjoyed no royal gossip since the lawn chair/goat incident had taken their charming queen many years before. To make up, at least impart for their boredom, the whole kingdom, the young ladies in particular, were enamored with the princes.

Silida’s 15 year old daughter Orbin was nearly always talking about them, their interests, their shoe size, and their many talents. “I’ve heard from the palace gardener’s daughter that Prince Admir and Prince Saud always play rugby at 3:30PM on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but that Prince Zaki reads his books in the sunshine instead.” Her information was nearly very accurate, although of course Admir and Saud sometimes tired of rugby, and it wasn’t always sunny enough for Zaki to read outdoors.

The three princes were indeed very handsome, very talented, and uncommonly wise. When I say wise, Most Darling, you may get a picture of a bespectacled librarian with a long nose and a white beard, so I should instead say sagacious, which unless you yourself have along white beard probably gives you no picture at all. Don’t worry I will not ask you to stop reading and look that word up. I shall take the pains of telling you myself.

Sagacious: wise, clever, or perceptive. Sagacity

Yes, this word is a more complete picture of the princes, for they were unusually perceptive. They had become so by the express desire of their father. He had determined early on that he wanted his sons to be wise. He knew they were handsome and strong enough to get by without many brains at all, as so many handsome and strong men do in this world. But the king also knew that their potential for power—the good kind—would be infinitely increased if they were well educated.

So it came to pass that the King called for the best teachers in the Kingdom for his sons. They were not only taught the regular subjects of literature and long division, but also the exciting subjects that normal children like you and I can only dream of learning; subjects with beautiful multi-syllabic names like Quantitative Economics, Organic Biochemistry, and Philosophical Theory of Postmodernity. There were also trained in the simpler sounding, but equally complex subjects of Modern Art and Classical History. One would think that with learning so many things their princely heads might swell up, but they seemed to remain as handsome as ever and, indeed, the only effect their learning had on their outer appearance was an increasingly sharp twinkle in their eyes.

Beside the handsome princes, within the palace there also lived a many dozens of other people: cooks, washers, cleaners, maids, butlers, and all kinds of servants. Having no mother of their own the princes developed a strong affection for the head chef whose name was Merrily Winifred Soup, but who they had always called Cookie. When they had time between their many studies they would often slip into the kitchen to ask what was for dinner, and also to chat with this succinct, maternal woman who planned their meals. They would tell her about the silly mischief they worked on their teachers and she would scold them and slap their hands away from the custard bowl. She had a very peculiar knack for frowning from the nose down and smiling all above.

“We convinced Ms. Chuirnopel that she had forgotten to teach us about sub-atomic particles last week, even though we had the lesson months ago.” Saud bragged easily, “She spent most of the hour writing equations on the board while we planned our next imperial expedition.”

“Have Your Highnesses no shame!” Cookie rebuked, with her eyes still laughing, “You’re Father, God save him, spends fortunes so that you may have the finest education in the world, and you go wasting your time and talents on planning more silly adventures.”

“Cookie!” cried Admir, “Our expeditions are not silly. There are many important quests to be undertaken for the greater glorification of out country.” Admir, being intelligent beyond his 13 years at this time, knew very well that they journey to the North Pole they had been planning during their astrophysics lesson would do very little for the glorification of Serendip, but he liked the idea of it anyway.

Cookie snorted cheerfully, “Oh yes? Hadn’t you better spend your time figuring out how to get rid of those dreadful dragons before you worry about leaving home for the glorification of our lovely land?”

The princes could see that she was right and as their brains began spinning on this new idea they each stole a taste of custard from the bowl. Cookie kindly turned her back so as to not have to feel that she aught to slap them away, for she knew they were deep in thought. At this moment Cookie’s daughter, Diana, came into the kitchen with some silver she had just finished polishing.

Having more or less grown up with the princes Diana was not in love with them or even reverential in hearing their opinions, as she had quite enough of her own. Sad to say, our young princes who, like all young men, enjoyed being flattered didn’t always think kindly of Diana.

“Hey DeeDee,” Zaki called after a moment, “What is round, has blue spots, and walks on four legs.”

“Hey Zaki, I don’t give a fig.” Diana replied tartly.

“Come on, Dee, take a guess.” Admir chimed in.

She stared at Admir, “A bruised apple being carried by a quadruped.”

“Haha, My Boy, she’s got you there!” boomed a voice from near the door. The King himself had smelled Cookies first custard pie baking and had slipped into the kitchen hoping for a pre-dinner sample.

“Good afternoon Father.” said the Princes

“Good after noon Majesty” said Cookie and her daughter.

“You have a clever girl there Mrs. Soup” declared the king as he reached his finger to the custard bowl.

“And you have three sons who enjoy custard pie as much as you do Majesty.” said Cookie as she slapped the king’s hand lightly with her wooden spoon.

“How old are you now Dear Diana?” questioned the King.

“12, almost.” she answered quietly. Though Diana could easily forget that the three boys who caused her so much trouble were princes, their father was still every bit a king in her eyes. She was sorry he had overheard her being saucy.

“Indeed. And how do you get on in your studies?” queried the king as he peered at her.

“My Diana seems to be a far sight cleverer than any of the teachers I can find for her.” answered her mother.

“Just as I thought. Well, Diana, how would you like to study with my boys and their teachers?”

“Father!” cried Admir

“Father!” yelped Saud.

“Her?” questioned Zaki, who was still wondering how she had guessed a better ending to his joke than what he had come up with.

“Majesty!” breathed Cookie and Diana.

The king ignored all this and simply looked at Diana with the question still hanging on his eyes.

“I would… there is nothing…I…” Diana stuttered for a moment, then drew a steady breath, “I would be honored.” She said calmly, as if she had been invited to take an evening stroll with the ground’s keeper. And with that Diana quickly set down the silver she had brought in and walked out of the kitchen.

The Princes were shocked at their father’s offer, but they knew better than to question what he had done. They may also have felt a twinge of guilt when they considered their own fortunate circumstance and their childish selfishness in wanting to keep their lessons to themselves. They knew it was not really right that they alone should benefit from the excellent education they were receiving and they remembered their father’s repeated admonition which made clear that their education was intended to prepare them to one day be great servants to their people.

So it was that with three sets of unspoken protest from the princes and the shortest of glances from their father that seemed to say, “I didn’t think so.” the princes returned to their study room, the King to his throne, and Cookie, with a grand smile, to her custard.

I found a memory today

Here in Massachusetts I had occasion to get introduced to a nice lady, Evelyn, from the Cal State Fullerton theater program. I asked her about their MFA program that I had just learned about. She doesn’t know much about that program, but we talked about their education outreach tour, the Kaleidoscope group. They used to be great, but have gone down hill in the last decade. It’s the kind of project I would love to take on someday.

But then things got awesome. I started telling her how I first became interested in theatre. There was a group that came to my elementary school. It changed my outlook on the world. It was a transformational moment. I remember the voices, the actors, the costumes. Me sitting in the 5^th row on the right of the cafeteria floor at Sierra Vista Elementary School. I’m looking at the stage, thinking WHAT are they doing!

Big gray angular blocks for a set. 8 actors all in grey sweats, except one in a white tee-shirt. They all started talking on top of each other: “The trouble with Nick is…” (that was the title of the show). It was a very early-nineties-after-school-special kind of show, about how your parents divorce isn’t your fault. That kind of thing. But it was theatrical, and stylized, and I loved it!

The memory of this show first came back to me when I was in my early undergrad trying to think about what it was that first turned me on to theatre.

It was the first time I realized that performing could be about more than just entertainment or being the center of attention. It could have a real meaning (even if it was a cheesy one). I think I was very lucky to realize that at such a young age. This was the power of theatre education on a young mind.

I told Evelyn about some of this today. She knows the director and she remembers the show! She will be sure to tell Lynn (her director friend) that across the country she met a 25 year-old theatre professional whose life was changed by that silly show.

There is a lot more I could say about theatre, and education, but in the interests of posting something for the first time in more than a month, I think I better just go with this.

Suffice it to say, I love theater education.

Excuses, no thanks.

Something something something. Clever. Ha ha. Bitterness. Something. Yada yada yada I promise to post something soon.

In lieu of a Christmas update letter

The time has rushed past, and it’s Christmas again.

Time to reflect on the year that has been.

With trips close to home, and to distant places,

I’ve made many new friends, seen so many faces.

The year has flown by me, now it’s Christmas once more.

Time to ponder the birth of a child, my Lord,

 

His life, and his mission, and his saving grace.

And I think of that day when I’ll, at last, see his face.

What will I say when he asks what I did?

What did I accomplish with the time as it slid?

I could rattle off movies, and websites, and sales,

 And good chats with friends, and troubles with males.

 

But no. My Saviour, and King will wish to know more.

He may ask, did you give and not worry who for?

Did you lift; did you share, as you promised to do?

Did you comfort your brothers, as I comforted you?

Did you stand as a witness at all times, in each season?

Did you help those in need without needing a reason?

 

I want to embrace him, and hold my head high,

And without any shame, look him straight in the eye.

‘Yes, Dearest brother, I tried my best.

I did what you asked. Did I pass the test?’

I want him to smile, a heart-melting smile.

‘My child, I’m so grateful you walked the extra mile.

I couldn’t be prouder. You’ve done what I asked.

You now shall be first, since you put yourself last.’

 

This season, this winter, this time of renewing

Begs that I do what I know I should be doing.

I sit now and I think, I’ve a long way to go

To earn this reward, but he’ll help me, I know.

For though He can’t hold my hand while I’m tried,

He sends his me his spirit to lead and to guide.

 

I look to the future, and through Christmases past.

The coming year promises to be just as fast.

Life will rush on. It cannot stand still.

Time passes, and passes. But it’s mine to fill.

And so I’m reminded of what I can be,

And what I must do in the time before me.