Excerpt: Ranger's Apprentice Book 9: Halt's Peril.

"One Raven Pass?" Horace repeated. "Why One Raven?"

"One raven is sorrow," Will said absently, repeating the old proverb.

Halt nodded. "That's right. The pass is the site of an old battle many years ago. A Scotti army was ambushed in the pass and wiped out to a man. Legend has it that since then, no bird-life will live there. Except for a solitary raven, who appears every year on the anniversary of the battle and whose cries sound like Scotti widows weeping for their men."

"How many years ago did this happen?" Horace asked. Halt shrugged as he rolled up the map and replaced it in his map case.

"Oh, three or four hundred years back, I suppose," he said carelessly.

"And how many years does a raven live?" Horace asked, a small frown furrowing the skin between his eyes. Halt rolled his eyes to heaven, seeing what was coming.

Will tried to step in. "Horace. . . ."

Horace held up a hand to forestall him.

"I mean, it's not as if it's breeding there and this is it's great-great-great-great-grandson raven, is it?" he said. "After all, it's one raven, and one raven can hardly have great-great-great-grandsons on its own, can it?"

"It's a legend, Horace," Halt said deliberately. "It's not meant to be taken literally."

"Still," said Horace doggedly, "why not call it something sensible? Like Battle Pass? Or Ambush Pass?"

Halt regarded him. He loved Horace like a younger brother. Even like a second son, after Will. He admired his skill with a sword and his courage in battle. But sometimes, just sometimes, he felt an overwhelming desire to ram the young warrior's head against a convenient tree.

"You have no sense of drama or symbolism, do you?" he asked.

"Huh?" replied Horace, not quite understanding. Halt looked around for a convenient tree. Luckily for Horace, there were none in sight.

Greeting Followers!

I'd like to welcome Lexi Ramsey to this interesting little blog! Hope you like it here!! :) And do please tell all your friends about it and The Letters of Askpen blog too!

When I Was One-and-Twenty.

When I was one-and-twenty
I heard a wise man say,
'Give crowns and pounds and guineas
But not your heart away;
Give pearls away and rubies
But keep you fancy free.'
But I was one-and-twenty,
No use to talk to me.

 
When I was one-and-twenty
I heard him say again,
'The heart out of the bosom
Was never given in vain;
'Tis paid with sighs a-plenty
And sold for endless rue.'
And I am two-and-twenty,
And oh, 'tis true, 'tis true."

 
~ Alfred Edward Housman.

The Prodigal Son.

This passage from the New Testament was the Scripture passage today's sermon was taken from.
"And he said, A certain man had two sons:
And the younger of them said to his father, Father, give me the portion of the goods that falleth to me. And he divided unto them his living.
And not many days after the younger son gathered all together, and took his journey into a far country, and there wasted his substance with riotous living.
And when he had spent all, there arose a mighty famine in that land; and he began to be in want.
And he went and joined himself to a citizen of that country; and he sent him into his fields to feed swine.
And he would fain have filled his belly with the husks that the swine did eat: and no man gave unto him.
And when he came to himself, he said, How many hired servants of my father's have bread enough and to spare, and I perish with hunger!
I will arise and go to my father, and will say unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and before thee,
And am no more worthy to be called thy son: make me as one of thy hired servants.
And he arose, and came to his father. But when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him.
And the son said unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy son.
But the father said to his servants, Bring forth the best robe, and put it on him; and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet:
And bring hither the fatted calf, and kill it; and let us eat, and be merry:
For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found. And they began to be merry.
Now his elder son was in the field: and as he came and drew neigh to the house, he heard music and dancing.
And he called one of the servants, and asked what these things meant.
And he said unto him, Thy brother is come; and thy father hath killed the fatted calf, because he hath received him safe and sound.
And he was angry, and would not go in: therefore came his father out, and entreated him.
And he answering said to his father, Lo, these many years do I serve thee, neither transgressed I at any time thy commandment: and yet thou never gavest me a kid, that I might make merry with my friends:
But as soon as this thy son was come, which hath devoured thy living with harlots, thou hast killed for him the fatted calf.
And he said unto him, Son, thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine.
It was meet that we should make merry, and be glad: for this thy brother was dead, and is alive again; and was lost, and is found."
~ Luke 15:11-32. KJV

Flower Pictures.

While working at the garden with my family today, I wandered into the greenhouse and fell to admiring this flowering plant, and then I noticed that several of the flowers were different from the rest.

                          Gorgeous buds that will produce gorgeous flowers in a few days.

                        A half-opened flower bud, with the promise of beauty peeking through.

A regular looking flower; note the number of petals.

     An abnormal looking flower; there are twice as many petals as on the previous picture.

Beautiful, aren't they? :)

         This is my pet pigeon Francis who was hanging out with me while I snapped the pictures.

Link.

Here's a link to a post I read and enjoyed; the garbage that is common nowadays is awful and we, as Christians and homeschools, need to train ourselves and our children not to read it and be exsposed to it's filthiness. Even many modern professed Christian writers produce garbage! As my mom frequently says, "Read the best, and skip the rest."

http://www.therebelution.com/blog/2011/02/wall-street-journal-boys-who-read/#comment-680421