Page 30 of 131
Posted: Wed Apr 28, 2004 10:24 pm
by Fist and Faith
He can't freakin' wait to get life started, because he wants to read TCTC!!!
Posted: Thu Apr 29, 2004 2:01 am
by variol son
I read here whenever I have the time to spare, but I never comment, because I never really know what to say. So don't stop Tracie, there is no waning of interest here.
Love you.
Sum sui generis
Vs
Posted: Thu Apr 29, 2004 3:26 pm
by Furls Fire
Fist and Faith wrote:He can't freakin' wait to get life started, because he wants to read TCTC!!!
Well, I don't think I'll shove LFB in his hands right away...maybe wait a week or two, let him acclimate to his surroundings first.
Variol Son wrote:I read here whenever I have the time to spare, but I never comment, because I never really know what to say. So don't stop Tracie, there is no waning of interest here.
Love you.

Love you too, cutie
I haven't had much of a chance to go thru and find another one yet. It will probably be a short one tho. No time to really sit and type alot, and he's hard to type because his long hand is very hard to decipher sometimes.

Posted: Thu Apr 29, 2004 9:46 pm
by The Other Sister
He couldn't stand typewriters and computers, he always said, "the pen and my hand become one, I have to be able to feel the pen slide along the paper as I write. Tapping typewriter keys or computer keys just isn't the same. If I'm going to bang on keys, they should be on the piano." But, his penmenship isn't the best. Tracie, you should scan in a few pages of his journals, then everyone will get an idea of what we're talking about. LOL!
"Well, that can't be helped. My hand is always in a hurry to get my thoughts down on paper..." He'd say with a huge smile whenever we would complain about not being able to read of word of what he had written.

Posted: Fri Apr 30, 2004 2:51 am
by Fist and Faith
Furls Fire wrote:Well, I don't think I'll shove LFB in his hands right away...maybe wait a week or two, let him acclimate to his surroundings first.
Oh sheesh, you overprotective moms!!
The Other Sister wrote:"Well, that can't be helped..."

Great line!
Posted: Fri Apr 30, 2004 3:39 pm
by Furls Fire
LOL Fist!! Yep, that's me, overprotective
Julie wrote:He couldn't stand typewriters and computers, he always said, "the pen and my hand become one, I have to be able to feel the pen slide along the paper as I write. Tapping typewriter keys or computer keys just isn't the same. If I'm going to bang on keys, they should be on the piano." But, his penmenship isn't the best. Tracie, you should scan in a few pages of his journals, then everyone will get an idea of what we're talking about. LOL!
"Well, that can't be helped. My hand is always in a hurry to get my thoughts down on paper..." He'd say with a huge smile whenever we would complain about not being able to read of word of what he had written.
That's a cool idea, Julie! I may just do that, might make him all that more "real" to everyone. Not that anyone here will be able to read those chicken scratchings...LOL

Posted: Sat May 01, 2004 5:57 am
by matrixman
Caught up with the latest entries just now. I really like the one where Stephen describes being in the woods and being visited by the fawns. It's a beautiful vision of nature, but Stephen's use of the song of Andelain and his comparing himself to Covenant makes it a haunting vision as well.
No need to stop what you're doing here, Furls, unless your heart tells you to do so. Yes, Stephen's writings are intense, but it's that intensity--and the conviction behind it--that makes his words so compelling to read. Hmm, isn't that also why I read SRD

? I think this thread, the way it has moved people so much, helps build a sense of closeness and family at the Watch, as much as our mutual love of SRD's craft does.
By the way, I haven't yet said hello to the rest of Furls's family here: Hail, Chris! Hail, Julie--the "Other" Sister! I'm Matrixman, and I'm mostly harmless.

Posted: Mon May 03, 2004 3:55 pm
by Furls Fire
He's here!!!!
Stephen Isaiah McKinney Hammon
Born: Saturday, May 1, 2004 1:03am
6lbs, 9oz, 18 inches long!
OH HAPPY DAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Posted: Mon May 03, 2004 4:54 pm
by duchess of malfi
Posted: Mon May 03, 2004 6:06 pm
by danlo
Stephen's 1st words, "I'm not your bloody Berek!"

Too cute!
Posted: Tue May 04, 2004 4:26 am
by Fist and Faith
Posted: Tue May 04, 2004 2:04 pm
by Furls Fire
LOL!!

You have no idea how crazy it is here right now.
You know, I didn't even know you called until about 10pm or so, my time!! When someone is on the phone and another call comes in, it just automatically rolls over to our voice mail. And when your call came in, Brooke was on the phone and she didn't check to see if there were any voice mail messages. By the time I checked for them, it was already waaaaaaay too late to call you back!! I was so bummed that I missed it!!
HUGGLESSSSSSSSSSSSSS Everyone!!
I thought Stephen's and Isaiah's namesake's picture should be in this thread.
He was such an easy delivery. I had a back ache all day friday, but I just thought it was from being as big as a whale and my back was tired of hauling all that wieght around...at 8pm or so I said to Russ, "You know, this backache is not a normal backache...I think we need to GO." Sooooooo, we all piled into the Expedition and went to the hospital. It was wonderful!! All the kids were there (except the real little ones, they stayed with Cathy, our nurse) to welcome baby Stephen into the world. Liz almost missed it!! LOL!! He was sooooo impatient! And he looked at all of us as if to say, "what's up?"
Nothing compares to this experience, nothing!! Love has a face, and that face is that of a new born baby!! What a miracle, for those who don't believe in miracles...just look at your children.

They are the face of God.
Hail Stephen Isaiah!! Welcome to our world!!
Posted: Tue May 04, 2004 3:05 pm
by Furls Fire
Okay, I just scanned a page from Steve's journal.
kevinswatch.ihugny.com/phpBB2/album_see.php?id=300
See if you can read and guess which one it is, I posted this one already...
On an amazing note, Isaiah never had any trouble reading Stephen's glyphs until his eyes got bad. What does that tell you about "eyes being the windows to the soul"?
Hey!! LOOK!!! We are on page 40 here!!!
I have no words...

Posted: Tue May 04, 2004 3:48 pm
by duchess of malfi
That's not so bad.
It's the one where
he's on the cliffs at Monterey, and celebrates the ocean and the music in his heart, and goes bare butt naked

.
I guess working in pharmacies for nearly 20 years has helped me be able to decipher "bad" handwriting.

Posted: Wed May 05, 2004 1:34 am
by Furls Fire
LOL!!! you got it duchy!!!
maybe this should be a new game..."guess the entry if you can read it." LOL

Posted: Wed May 05, 2004 1:55 am
by Fist and Faith

Yes! What an idea!
Posted: Wed May 05, 2004 3:12 pm
by Furls Fire
I don't think Vain would like the album being all filled up with huge scans of journal entries tho..hehehe..I have to make them big so the "glyphs" can at least be seen. LOL!!
Posted: Fri May 07, 2004 3:23 pm
by Stephen C
November 14, 1995 2:33am
It was late and a few of the street lights were out as I walked home from the Gallery tonight. A sense of loneliness hung in the air, and an uncanny quiet. My footfalls on the sidewalk sounded heavy in the silence as I walked. My thoughts drifted and I found myself signing a song from a short movie that was on HBO the other night… “In the Gloaming, oh my darling, when the lights are dim and low..”
They came at me from a recessed doorway as I rounded a corner, three of them. Two seized my arms on other side, while the third planted his fist in my stomach. They pulled me into the doorway, one yanked my head back by the hair while the third thrust a knife at my throat. He grinned at me, his teeth yellow and his eyes desperate, despairing. And I saw then, he didn’t want to do this. “You’re a pretty faggot, ain’t ya.” He sneered. I just looked at him, saying nothing. He pulled back his hand and punched me in the face. “Get it all.” He said then. The other two began rummaging around in my coat and pants, claiming my wallet, watch, and a ring I wore on my pinky finger. They hit me a few more times, until I fell. But, before they could run away I said. “All you had to do was ask. I would have given it freely.” They all stopped and stared down at me. I stood slowly, took off my coat, and handed it to the man with the yellow teeth and desperate eyes. Then, with my eyes still on them, I took off my shoes, handing them to one of the others. I then reached into the front pocket of my jeans, pulled a few 5’s and 10’s, which they had missed, and handed that over too. “Just promise me you’ll buy food with it, and not drugs or booze.” They all stared at me, opened-mouthed. “All you had to do was ask.” I said again, turning my back on them and continued on my way home.
Now, I lay here in bed, nursing a few cuts on my face and bruised ribs, and my mind is haunted by those desperate eyes. How they revealed such pain, such complete despair. This man, who used violence as a façade to circumvent his sense of worthlessness. Ah, Jesus, why do men resort to such things? My sister told me to call the police, have them arrested, press charges, lock them up—and maybe I should have. I mean, what is to stop them from accosting someone else? But those eyes! Father? Did I do the right thing? Should I have fought back? Should I have called the police on them? The answer, ah the answer, sometimes answers reveal themselves without the asking of the question, and that answer was the handing over of my coat. So, why ask it now? Why question the answer? I am, who I am. And who I am saw not the violence enacted upon me, but the loathing those eyes reflected coming from the man. And didn’t Jesus say…
“I say unto you which hear, love your enemies, do good to them which hate you, bless them that curse you, and pray for them which despitefully use you. And unto him that smiteth thee on the one cheek offer also the other; and him that taketh away thy cloke forbid not to take thy coat also…”
My answer lies there. Compassion, charity, forgiveness…all come from Jesus, all come from His presence in my heart. I can always get another coat, I can always get another watch, shoes, wallet, ring…Things don’t matter. They don’t go with you. They aren’t you. The measure of a man is not what he has, it is who he is. I am who I am. I’m not defined by my coat.
Posted: Fri May 07, 2004 4:31 pm
by duchess of malfi
(I have no words. True Christianity in action.)
Posted: Sat May 08, 2004 4:05 pm
by Furls Fire
duchess of malfi wrote:(I have no words. True Christianity in action.)
exactly
