I&F – October Issue – 2009

A Reflection on the March for Life by Lady Rose The evening of the March for Life, after the crowds had all dispersed, the sun had set and we had all eaten our dinner, the "Awesome Group" (my group) went on a tour of some of the many monuments of Washington D.C. The first one we stopped at was the Lincoln Memorial. After I attempted to take some photos, I strolled over to the side of the monument where the immortal Gettysburg Address is engraved in the wall. Leaning up against one of the towering columns, I read the words written so many years ago, soaking it in. I read it as I always have, thinking of the Civil War, when I came to the last paragraph. I gasped slightly and read the words in a way I have never read them before. New meaning leapt out at me and I re-read them again. “It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us—that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion—that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain— that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom—and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.” I read them again, and felt my eyes well up with tears. That was why we were there, why everyone there that day was in Washington D.C. Why there is a March for Life. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us. That we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain President Lincoln was speaking about the soldiers, but in a way, he could have been speaking about the unborn. Those children gave their lives, maybe without a choice, but they gave them anyhow. I read somewhere once that everyone was created for a purpose, and that you will not die until that purpose, that mission is fulfilled. It is my belief that the mission of the aborted unborn children is to bring about the conversion of their mothers, to serve as an example to all those contemplating abortion and bring about their conversion, so that our nation, and the world, might someday realize and repent of the evil it has been allowing for far too long. During their short lives, they were part of the Church Militant, they were soldiers too. Now that they are in heaven, they are part of the Church Triumphant, but they are still fighting with their prayers, so that not another child will have to die in the war against The Enemy. In the words of President Lincoln,

It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us - that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain! We must continue the fight, those of us who were given the chance to be born, to grow up, to live our lives for the honor and glory of God. It is my hope that all you who read this will read that last paragraph of the Gettysburg Address, and then read it again and again. Then resolve in your heart to fight for the pro-life cause. So that these dead children shall not have died in vain. November is... By Delaney National Novel Writing Month! (NaNoWriMo) This month, aspiring novelists everywhere are preparing for this literary adventure. The idea is to write a 50,000 word novel (about 175 typewritten pages) in 30 days. The website calls it "an experiment in pure output." NaNoWriMo is certainly not the time to give our "Inner Editors" full reign. Visit www.nanowrimo.org and take a look at the FAQ and the extensive forums for details, rules, and advice. If you decide to join in, be sure to drop by the discussion we have going in The Scribe's Corner, where you can tell us a little about your novel, and groan (or gloat) over its current wordcount. Happy noveling! Are you planning to do NaNoWriMo? Let us know! Send a summary of your proposed project to Sweeetlilgurlie on the forum and we'll share it in next month's issue of “Ink and Fairydust!”

Ink and Fairydust October 1 st

, 2009 Issue 2, Volume I __________________________________________________________________________________________________ A Note About Rain By Elenatintil October is a weather-y month. The gray clouds drift in, the wind speeds up, the bright green of summer fades to the golds and browns of autumn and the rain comes rushing down. We here at “Ink and Fairydust” love weather. Especially rainstorms. As a result, you'll see that we've chosen “rain” as our monthly topic. Look for plenty of articles relating to weather, and a series of rain and water related facts by Lantalamiste strewn throughout the issue. We hope that you will take time this fall to soak in the beauty of the world around you. There is glory and majesty in a thunderstorm and a peaceful hush in a gentle shower that rival the beauty of any rose or sunset. Weather is just another part of the glorious world God created, and we rejoice in its ever changing moods. So celebrate with us the artistry of our Lord and Master, Jesus Christ – the greatest artist of all. -Editor in Chief Lanta says: Did you know that.... ....the amount of water held in the atmosphere at any time is sufficient to produce about 2.5cm (1 inch) of rain over the surface of the earth. ....all precipitation starts as ice or snow crystals at cloud level. ....rainfall is classified as light if not more than 0.10 inches per hour, and heavy if more than 0.30 inches per hour. ....raindrops vary in size from 0.02 inch to about .031 inch diameter. ....big, heavy raindrops can fall at speeds up to 22 miles per hour. ....the wettest state in the United States is Louisiana, with annual rainfall of 56 inches. ....Mt. Waialeale in Kauai, Hawaii, has up to 350 rainy days every year. Try this... Forecasting the weather with pine cones: The scales will close when rain is on the way! Prayer Spotlight by Maria Born on May 25th, 1887 and baptized Francesco Forgione, Padre Pio lived in Pietrelcina, Italy. During that time, there were many poor families in Italy. Padre Pio's family was one of them. St. Pio was a sickly child. Many of the boys teased him because he would rather pray than cause a ruckus with them. Pio wanted very much to go to school, but his family could not afford it. This was a blow to Pio, for he knew from a young age that God wanted him to become a priest. After working hard and yielding little, Padre Pio's father decided that he would go to America for work and send money back home. With this new income, the Forgione's were able to hire a tutor for Pio. At the age of sixteen, Pio entered a Capuchin friary, where he received his name. Padre Pio was ordained a priest on August tenth, 1910. In 1911, Padre Pio became very sick and was sent to recover in Pietrelcina. His father built him a small hut where he could rest and pray. It was there that he first noticed the beginning of the stigmata, or the wounds of Christ, on his hands. He didn't think anything of it. Padre Pio was drafted when World War I broke out, but he was too sick to be of any help to the army. Padre Pio was moved to Our Lady of Grace Friary in San Giovanni Rotondo. Once there, it was discovered that he had tuberculosis. Eventually, the fresh, clean air healed Padre Pio's lungs. The army found him again, and he was ordered to report for duty. Padre Pio did not like being in the army, though. There was no decent place to celebrate mass. Finally, World War I ended, and Padre Pio was very happy to return to his friary. On September 20th, 1918, Padre Pio was praying after mass. Suddenly, the figure of Jesus seemed to come alive! Arrows of light came from Jesus and landed on Padre Pio, then the vision ended. Padre Pio noticed bleeding wounds on his hands, feet, and side. He had received the stigmata! When people found out about this, Padre Pio became very famous. He disliked the attention, though. Many doctors examined his wounds, but no one could explain the phenomenon. A lot of people wanted Padre to hear their confessions, so he spent fifteen hours or more every day in the confessional. Padre Pio wanted to build a hospital. Many people scoffed at him, believing that it couldn't be done. He made an old building into a hospital; it was not as he imagined, but it was a hospital nonetheless. Then an earthquake struck. It destroyed the hospital. When people heard about this, they spread the word, and a flood of donations started coming in. Padre Pio had the hospital built, and named it the "Home for the Relief of Suffering." It was completed in 1956.

In 1968, Padre Pio knew that he would soon die. On September 23rd, with crowds outside his door, he did. When he died, his stigmata disappeared. Padre Pio was canonized on June 16th, 2002. We celebrate his feast day on September 23rd. A Prayer for Trust and Confidence in God's Mercy by St. Pio of Pietrelcina O Lord, we ask for a boundless confidence and trust in Your divine mercy, and the courage to accept the crosses and sufferings which bring immense goodness to our souls and that of Your Church. Help us to love You with a pure and contrite heart, and to humble ourselves beneath Your cross, as we climb the mountain of holiness, carrying our cross that leads to heavenly glory. May we receive You with great faith and love in Holy Communion, and allow You to act in us as You desire for your greater glory. O Jesus, most adorable Heart and fountain of Divine Love, may our prayer find favor before the Divine Majesty of Your heavenly Father.

Ink and Fairydust October 1 st

, 2009 Issue 2, Volume I __________________________________________________________________________________________________ Winter of Death By Lantalamiste In a world of reflections, who thinks them a miracle? Few notice. Fewer care. And who looks beneath the miracle to the world touching it, yet ever closed? Do you look now? Amid your dreams, do you peer deep within that mirror and deeper yet into that lowly puddle? If you do, there is hope yet... And if you hear in your dreams my whispers in the dark, there is hope—and salvation. ~~~ Ours is a world of shadows shimmering amid light that filters to the deeps, creating fragmented patterns weaving around us and dancing through the feathery undergrowth. There is always sound, of waves shifting the sand, noiseless whispers of slim figures darting amid the undergrowth in silence. When all is alive with sound, the noiseless sounds of these brings a silent quality. When the world of men is at night, light comes to us and we awake and dance through the waters. But when day comes to man, we sleep, for no sun’s light will scald us with its hatred. All is darkness when night flees, and then do we hide; there is no beauty in darkness, only in light. We never lived in the shadow of the sun, burned and corrupted by it. The first portal between men and us is water, and only moon and starlight can filter through it. Mirrors make the second portal; the only light that can pierce through is candlelight, though we have seen little of that now when men light not their candles. Our light is moonblue, silver, and starwhite, everything tinted in a myriad of hues. Once there was candlegold, too, but now it comes to us so rarely that when we see the first flecks, there is immediate rejoicing, and a great celebration is held— the Festival of Gold. But there has not been one for more than a lifetime... There is peace in the depths; although there is ever constant movement of restless waters, in the perpetuity of their movement is stillness found. And the serenity amid the deep waters cannot be found amid valleys of verdant green where white sheep wander and lambs gambol. Here and there we flit, the waters taking us gently up in their flow, unhindered, unchecked, unnoticed by men—and there in the midst of our freedom does our downfall lie. For our world, though independent and free of the world of men, unknown to man, is tied irrevocably to the soul of man. When men battle and die, our waters are stormy, and there is no peace for us or them. When men hate to the depths of their souls, then the silver light bleeds like blood, and red rain falls as if from a cloud. And when the world of men approaches its end, consuming itself from inside with its own hatred, then does our world writhe with upheaval from its foundations, for our end is nigh... The world of men is vivid with clashing shades of violent colors. Pools of bloody scarlet swallow up pastels; fierce, alive greens devour gentle grays; muted, subtle colors drown in fathomless oceans of blue. There is little peace, for when peace could be achieved, the ones who claim to strive for it grow dissatisfied with far less. The soul of man knows no repose; it searches always, restless, like the ocean waves, lacking their constancy... The violence of colors is matched by the violence of emotions. Neither man nor woman lives who could not find a secret hatred deep within their souls, giving them cause to kill. Some war; others murder the object of their hatred under the bloody veil of night; others turn their hatred upon themselves, ending their misery in life with self-bloodshed. They who kill not for hatred, kill for greed, doing themselves good at their neighbor’s expense. Those who do not kill the body kill the soul... In Spring of men’s lives, newness awakes amid bleakness, and beauty pokes tentatively through ugliness, but even then does hatred rear its fiery head... the beauty blooms full in Summer, but the searing sun of hatred burns with full strength, wilting beauty. Freshness of heart withers, blistered beneath the burning flame of eternal hate. But Autumn comes, signaling the beginning of the end, when men and nature alike are at their peak. The very trees prepare to die by reaching the height of their beauty, setting forth amid their boughs blazes of gold and red finery. The sun burns colder, but though it seems the fiery blaze of hate nears its end, instead it nears completion, for now it not sears but chills the bone, and heart and soul are encrusted with the finest gleam of ice as the sun of hatred wrecks its final, soulkilling deed—freezing what once burned brightly. But the final freezing comes only in death, and Autumn is only a foretaste of the end, the soul bleeding out its life to be transformed into ice, growing colder and number with each day’s death... When Winter comes, the soul dies. Now is the Autumn of Man; emotions burnished to crimson while men grow daily colder, and night is longer... Dread deeds done by night are condoned by cold hearts by day, while the sun inside freezes their souls in hatred... Winter’s death approaches them; its footfalls grow louder as each day dies, but men and woman grow only colder. Their hearing dulls; few can hear the signs of their fate. Fewer care, for their souls are numb. ~~~ But at night, when hatred wanes and men sleep, we whisper our thoughts into the mind of men and hope... hope one will remember on waking; hope the ice will crack before the end... hope the sun even now can be vanquished... hope that even now can there be salvation. Can you hear my whispering, frozen soul? Let it cut the ice hatred has wrought in your silent spirit that once sang. For if you hear, there is hope yet... Lanta says: World's one minute rainfall record: 1.23 inches of rain (Unionville, MD; July 4, 1956) Greatest rainfall in a day: 73.62 inches (Réunion, Indian Ocean; March 15, 1952) Greatest rainfall in a year: 1,041 inches (Assam, India; August 1880- 1881)

Ink and Fairydust October 1 st

, 2009 Issue 2, Volume I __________________________________________________________________________________________________ Dress up as a Saint for Halloween By Dayandnight Halloween, also known as All Hallows’ Eve, used to be celebrated as the eve of the feast of All Saints. Most of us growing up, however, think of a night where people dress up as witches, skeletons, ghosts, and other evil or dead creatures, while their yards are decorated with tombstones and skulls. Some Christians, in reaction to the pagan celebrations, have decided to not do anything at all on Halloween. But why not dress up as a saint for Halloween and celebrate All Hallows’ Eve? Here are just a few ideas to get you started. Saint Patrick For the basic version of Saint Patrick, you will need a plain green robe and some symbol of either a three-leaf clover or a four-leaf clover. This can be cut out of a cardboard box or cereal box and either colored green or covered with green material. Some other symbol(s) associated with Saint Patrick can also be used. For the elaborate version, embellish the edges of the green robe with fancy silver or gold trim. Make it look more like a bishop robe as opposed to a plain robe. Add a crosier by using a stick with an elaborate cross attached to the top. A good way to procure such cross is to craft a hook out of aluminum foil. The hook hooks in a circle and comes upright to a cross. Add a bishop's miter and you are good to go. To make the miter, start out with a headband of cardboard. Construct the two panels and attach them to the cardboard band. Saint Francis of Assisi The basic version uses a brown robe with a piece of white or manila rope tied around the waist. Add any stuffed animal or animal picture to represent Saint Francis's love for God's creation. For the elaborate version, add a Rosary and hang it from the cord. Wear a brown (or black) hoodie under the robe or sew a hood onto the robe. Add a fake beard or removable dark face paint that resembles a beard. A crucifix or other appropriate religious symbol also helps. Blessed Virgin Mary Wear a blue robe over a white plain skirt. Add a white veil and you have the simple version of this costume. For the advanced costume, wear a blue robe over a white robe and the veil. Add Rosary beads if desired, as the Rosary is often associated with the Blessed Virgin Mary. Saint Maria Goretti Saint Maria Goretti lived around the start of the twentieth century and chose to die rather than lose her virginity. My suggested Saint Maria costume is a white robe over a red sweatshirt/long sleeved shirt. The white represents innocence and purity, and the red represents martyrdom. Add white silk flowers and you are good to go. These are only some of the Halloween Costumes of Saints. For my full list of Halloween Costumes, visit my article at http://www.associatedcontent.com/article... ._of.html?cat=46 A Cinderella Complex By Gwendolyn Rose From the age of two to four, I was obsessed with Cinderella. For a little bit over a year, I would make my mom read the book “Cinderella” to me every night. Often she would pause while reading and I would finish the sentence. You can imagine how many times she read it to me. Later she told me that she would pause on purpose to see what I would do. Fed-up, she said in an annoyed voice, “I am not reading that story anymore!” My obsession with the fairy tale put my mom in a very sticky situation. One time my relatives came down and they were pressuring me to call my biological Dad, “Daddy.” I wanted to call him by his first name Erik. “Ella, this is Daddy,” they insisted. The pressure got to me. I stomped my little foot and answered, “No, he’s Erik. He’s not my Daddy, my Mama is gonna marry a prince; and he’ll be my Daddy!” I remember this incident well because we have it on videotape. In the background of the video, you can hear my Mom saying, “I didn’t put her up to this!” Mama later tried to explain that it was because I was reading “Cinderella” and I thought my mama should marry a prince. This incident left Erik with a funny look on his face, which seemed to say, “I’m being dissed,” and my Grandma Eileen (his mother) in tears. To this day, I feel odd calling him “Dad” because he just doesn’t feel like my dad. Another thing that came out of reading Cinderella was that at the age of twoyears-old I would ask my Mom to let me help wash dishes—which I called the “dichers”. I wanted to pretend that I was Cinderella—especially because Cinderella’s real name was Ella. I would tell Mama to yell at me as if she were Cinderella’s evil stepmother. My mom was afraid that someone would drive up and hear her yelling at me. Nevertheless, her soft yells were not sufficient for me. I would say: “Meaner! Louder, Mompy!” (I had many pet names for my mama and “Mompy” was one of them). My mother still likes it when I “play” Cinderella and wash the dishes. She always said that even at a very young age I was good at cleaning the kitchen. Unfortunately, this gift has come back to haunt me in these five dreaded words: “Please wash the dishes, Ella.”

Poetry Contest Winners!

1st Place “Waters of Grace” By Matthew Bowman

The day grows dim as clouds roll in The wind picks up as storms begin The sky is split with lightning’s flash The air is filled with thund’rous crash The sun has hid behind the front The dull-gray clouds seem on the hunt. And growing on the windowpane, Comes now the sound of falling rain.

My heart is still as I look out My mind is plagued with thoughts of doubt Betrayed inside and torn in two My soul adrift from all it knew I feel confused, and so alone As though completely on my own. And with these thoughts I can’t explain, I sit and watch the falling rain

Although the storm may wail and rage The sounds of rain serves to assuage My grief and pain seems to retreat Replaced by thoughts of peace so sweet I set aside my strife and care And contemplate that wat’ry aire. You cannot make a fine champagne That might compare with falling rain

And with that sound within my ear My clouded mind begins to clear I stand and walk to my front door The sound outside seems to implore I take no coat nor hat once there To hide myself, I give no care. I leave behind my world’s mundane And step into the falling rain.

The storm seems less once I’m outside The rage, once strong, seems to subside Though quickly soaked, I do not mind; I left those petty cares behind Instead embrace the sound and feel As though it were the true ideal. And as I walk along the lane, My thoughts are soothed by falling rain.

I lift my face without a fear I wash myself in waters clear So light and pure, with hidden force I raise my arms to meet the source Cool, fresh water on my face Seems to carry hidden grace.

It seems so strange, in ways arcane, To be so clean from falling rain. My heart is knit, my soul is found My wand’ring mind has come to ground I know my path; the storm has gone The sun shines out as if at dawn Birds around me all take to wing Their joyful song begins to ring. So peaceful now that darkened stain, Was washed away by falling rain. I softly smile at their reply To reappearance of blue sky No more alone, I turn for home, I know my way and shall not roam. For someone cares about my life, Who’s ever there in mirth and strife. And I return, in no more pain, My wounds were healed by falling rain. ___________________________________ 2nd Place “In God's Faerie Garden” By Lantalamiste I saw the forest come alive Each tow’ring tree a-breathing And the steady pulse of raindrops was The forest’s heart a-beating. Each lowly plant was all a-quiver With falling drops of water As though God watered now His earth, His broken, thirsting daughter. And with each drop, each raindrop’s fall A broken dream’s made whole And at each leaf’s receiving tremor A fairytale’s brought low— —from ‘magination’s soaring heights To earthly reach to feel For those who seek to find and see A glimpse of Heav’n made real. And now, though thornbush blocks my path And my way is lost for lack of light I slip into a trance-like dream Rememb’ring a vision green and bright Of peaceful forest breathing rain With shafts of green light through the leaves A faerie portal, a heavn’ly thing That leaves my soul etern’lly free. 3rd Place “The Midnight Rain” By Lillian Glittering silver spears of light Falling from the pitch-black night To shatter on my window's pane As inside I watch the midnight rain Every droplet like a knife Dies itself to bring new life Some plants live, though some still die While inside, I watch still warm and dry Perhaps I ought to be in bed Rest my body, rest my head But hearing this fall of fairy dust Watch every drop I know I must Midnight rain from end to start Calls to the magic in my heart And answer to its call I will My arms upon the window sill So silver spears and velvet night Watch with me til morning's light But only when the last drop fell Could I be free from this fairy spell ___________________________________ Honorable Mention By Lantalamiste Sun-dappled leaves, rainstruck leaves Fill a forest seeped with woe Clear rays of sun, droplets of rain Sunlight only masks the sorrow. Moonlit the clearing, bathed in silver Glist'ning beams drive only deeper Her sighs of sorrow, tears that fill her Moonlight masks another weeper. Dark is the night, without and within her Shadows taunt her, mock her tears Darkness surrounds her with empty allure But raindrops warn her of her fears. Starlit, the raindrops fill her void Stars replace the dark and pain Rainfall bathes her till filled with joy She dances in the rain. Poems judged by Lady Rose, Lady Adonnenial, Elenatintil and (partially) Lantalamiste.

Ink and Fairydust October 1 st

, 2009 Issue 2, Volume I __________________________________________________________________________________________________ The Source and Summit of Beauty By Jo March “Poetry so fine was like a harp being stroked by a dozing musician with a careless beauty that made her insides ache.” ~ Waking Rose Today I was playing Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata on the piano. Though I was playing it very, very poorly, as I am only learning it, something about it – its beauty and mystery – satisfied something deep within my soul. It was like drinking a cold glass of water, or dancing in the summer rain. I made the statement that “It filled a hole in my soul nothing can fill.” Well, my sister thought that a bit odd (and of course said so). But the more I thought about it, the more I realized it was true. This piece is truly beautiful. It can fill our souls, just like any other beautiful thing – sunsets, roses, European cathedrals, or babies. Why does beauty satisfy us so? What is it in beauty that causes us to sigh and revel in its loveliness? It is this: God created each of these things and they are a reflection of Himself. In beauty we encounter our Creator in subtle and mysterious ways. Sometimes it is soft and gentle beauty – like Moonlight Sonata or a spider’s web. Other times it is powerful and magnificent – like a huge waterfall or the night sky. Either way, this subtle encounter with God is so attractive to our human nature that we need it –beauty – just as we need food, water, or oxygen. However, if we try to love beauty, in whatever form – music, architecture, nature – without realizing this, we are missing the point, skimming the surface. The Reality and Truth behind beauty is the end and beauty is only the means of discovering that end. As with anything, to love the means only and miss the end entirely is so great a loss. It is like being content with looking at the ocean from the shore; we would never discover the wonders and mysteries lying just below. Also, if we seek beauty only for itself, we can never have enough. We are greedy, always wanting more and more. When we recognize God as the everlasting Source of beauty – in fact, He is Beauty itself – we can appreciate it as it comes, enjoy it in the moment because we know that It is inexhaustible and eternal. Ad majorem Dei gloriam! “But the image was a lasting one, and he tucked it away in his store of memory as an unusual glint of light from the Kingdom Heaven, God’s odd reflection.” ~Black as Night “Since love grows within you, so beauty grows. For love is the beauty of the soul.” ~ Saint Augustine “And God saw all the things that he had made, and they were very good.” ~ Genesis 1:31 “The heavens are telling the glory of God; and the firmament proclaims his handiwork.” ~ Psalm 19:1 “Life exists for the love of music or beautiful things.” ~ G.K. Chesterton “Beauty is just as useful as the useful, perhaps more so.” ~ Les Miserables

Photography Contest Winners! Monthly Theme: Rain and Water Monthly Judge: Lady Carmie Monthly Winner: Katerina

Second Place: Robyn Honorable Mention: Elenatintil (not pictured)

The November theme will be “Shakespeare and Writing.” Submit photos with interesting views of Shakespeare or writing related subjects to Lady Carmie on the Forum, via PM.

Ink and Fairydust October 1 st

, 2009 Issue 2, Volume I __________________________________________________________________________________________________ How to make Elvish Jewelry By Nenetta Have you ever watched The Lord of the Rings or another fantasy movie, and longed for the beautiful jewelry? Have you ever despised the fact that replicas cost upwards of $50? Deplore no longer! You can make your own Elvish jewelry for only a few dollars! To begin, you must have the right supplies: floral wire, 20 gauge craft wire, needle nose pliers, tweezers, wire cutters (or an old pair of scissors), and beads. All of these should be available at your local craft store. Use the floral wire to test your designs and for the more intricate details. The craft wire is used for your final project. Needle nose pliers and tweezers allow you to get a better grip on the wire. To create large loops of wire, rub the inside of your thumb along the wire, forcing it into a curve. To make swirls, hold the end of the wire in the pliers and twist them. Use your fingers to make the swirl lie flat. If you want to attach two ends of wire together, twist them tightly around each other. Apply a small dot of glue or clear fingernail polish. Always remember simplicity. Although the designs may be full of intricate details, the overall effect should be flowing, free, and simple. Here are a few ideas to get you started: Rings. These rings sweep around the finger in a delicate swirl. The fact that the ends are not connected allows them to adjust to any size finger. Ear cuffs. This unique design hooks onto the ear. To wear it, slide the hooks over the earlobe and ease into place. It can be adjusted to any size ear. Circlets and crowns. Adorn these queenly (or kingly) creations with many loops, swirls, and beads. Create matching sets! Be creative! Make bracelets, arm cuffs, even masks! In addition to having created beautiful jewelry worthy of the movies, you will also have the joy of declaring, “I made that!” For more fun crafts, visit Nenetta's blog at:

Book Review By Lady Rafka Jane Austen's “Persuasion” Anne Elliot is unhappy. Not miserable because, although others in her circumstance would be, it’s simply not in her nature to make a bad situation worse. She is content in her mirthless state, despite being reminded frequently by her looksobsessed father that at twenty-seven she has completely lost her bloom; as consequence of the latter, all possible favoritism is directed at her younger, much prettier sister Elizabeth, but Anne is prepared in the event that no change will come to her rescue. Her new situation is a bit happier, until Mrs. Croft’s brother, a Captain Wentworth, comes to visit; the same Captain Wentworth whose proposal Anne was persuaded, despite being in love with him, to refuse years before. He has returned, looking for a wife who will not be so easily “persuaded”. Thus Anne Elliot finally becomes miserable. Life has other ideas for the heroine, though. To any of the readers here in the least way familiar with Jane Austen, it would hardly be a spoiler to state that the story ends with Anne and Captain Wentworth finding their way back to each other. How they do so does require some conversion for both parties, but chiefly it comes down to the basic idea of persuasion and being persuaded. on the sea requires many sacrifices, including one’s looks, and because of them they make the men who go out to sea stronger than they were before. As the story progresses, it becomes clear that the purpose in mentioning the sea is not as a thing in itself, but as a metaphor; a quicker and harsher simile of life in general, on land or no. Life forces sacrifices on those who truly live, oblivious to rank, status, etc., and thus it is our choice to become virtuous and stronger because of it, or sink.

Change does come, though, in the form of her father’s bankruptcy. Enter Admiral Croft and his wife, willing renters of the Elliot manor while Sir Elliot and Elizabeth relocate to a less expensive place in Bath; they leave Anne behind to tend to her other, perpetually ill sister Mary.

Because two of the three main male characters are seamen, discussions of the sea and its effects on those who live on it are brought up again and again. The sealife, according to Sir Elliot, “cuts up a man’s youth and vigour most horribly; a sailor grows old sooner than any other man.” (pp.13, Dover-Thrift Editions) Life

Ink and Fairydust October 1 st

, 2009 Issue 2, Volume I __________________________________________________________________________________________________ Regina Watch! “Notable events in the life of Author Regina Doman” By Lantalamiste This month, we bring you an interview with your favorite author! You’ve finished the first draft of “Alex O’Donnell & the 40 Cyberthieves” and are on to editing...when’s the soonest we can hope to read it by? BTW I have ideas for a middle book featuring Debbie's viewpoint where Paul and Rachel would be characters, but I'm not sure at this point if I'm going to do it. I have a fairy tale, but I need a plot that makes sense and fits with the tale. It would be another fun, summery book like Alex, and I promise to tell the fans more about it if I get some clearer ideas. And what about Blanche and Bear? Have they faded out of the FTN books entirely? The theme of this month’s newspaper is rain... how do you feel about rain? Regina: Makes me want to make tea, sit by the window with a good book, and curl up to read and watch the patterns on the windowsill. Thank you for the interview, Regina!

Regina: Summer 2010 is what I'm shooting for: pray for me! Will you release an excerpt just for forum fans like you did with Midnight Dancers before it was published? Regina: I probably will figure out some way of doing that for the forum. Right now the opening chapter is being redone (just as it was constantly with MD!) so I don't think I can release anything until that's revised. So, you’ve said Alex and Katari will be the main characters, but will Fish and Rose come in at all? Or Blanche and Bear? Or Paul and Rachel? Regina: Nope. Right now, it's just a very small, personal story about Alex and Kat and Alex's family and the relationships among all of them. I think a story would need to be 'bigger' (like Waking Rose) in order for me to pull other outside characters into it. Speaking of Paul and Rachel, will we get another book about them? Regina: I was actually just kicking around ideas about West of the Moon, as I'm calling their final book. There's a lot I really like about the draft of that book, but a lot that needs to be changed. I had an idea on how to completely restructure the entire thing, but it would take research, and work! But that would be a 'big' book, a sort of finale, and I think you can expect to see Fish and Alex at least making an appearance. Regina: Not at all. I do have half a book where they both play parts, but I have no idea how to end it. Perhaps after "Rumplestilskin," I'll look at that one again. When you’ve finished “Alex O’Donnell & the 40 Cyberthieves”, which book are you planning on working on next? Regina: Probably Rumplestilskin will be the next FTN, but there's actually a new series I'm contemplating starting, which I am actually writing now. It's a much broader scope, it requires much, much more research, and will make me go back on my public statement that I will never write a fantasy. More on that as it starts to transpire. I'm trying to keep it rather Top Secret now... Is it too early to ask when next year’s ReginaCon will be? August again? Regina: Do you have to call it that? Probably, but we have to work it out so it doesn't coincide with the Catholic Marketing Network/Catholic Writer's Conference, which I've already been tapped to speak at for next year. That's also in August, so we will probably do the event either in July or October - Andrew's the schedule man. We'll figure something out. Were you in a household when you went to Steubenville? Regina: Yes, I was in Israel's Hope, which died a few years after I left. It was an awesome household and I keep hoping someone will resurrect it. Nah... Movie Review: “The Pirates Who Don’t Do Anything!” By Miss Kathleen The movie starts when the main characters, George (Pa Grape), Elliot (Larry the cucumber) and Sedgwick (Mr. Lunt), get fired from their job and find the help seeker. They are transported back to the high seas in the 1700’s. They then help the princess to go find her brother who was captured by their uncle Robert. During the course of the movie George, Elliott, and Sedgwick learn what it means to be heroes, because in the beginning of the movie Elliott is scared of every thing, Sedgwick is lazy, and George does what Elliot and Sedgwick tell him to, and his kids don’t look up to him. In the end they rescue the princess and her brother, and go back to the present.

Ink and Fairydust October 1 st

, 2009 Issue 2, Volume I __________________________________________________________________________________________________ A Work of Fiction By Lady Blanche Rose PROLOGUE As I sit here reflecting on my life, it seems almost too fantastical to be true. I’m not sure if you will believe it. I’m not sure if I even believe it…too much of it seems like some strange dream. But if it never really happened, how would I be here now, sitting on the cool green grass, hearing the cheerful voices I love? It couldn’t have happened. It would be impossible How did I come through so much, and, moreover, why did I? So that is why I am sitting here, pen in hand, recounting the events of my life up to this time. I want to understand these events as much as I am able, to fully believe what happened, to be thankful with my whole heart. My dear reader, I am about to open up my soul to you. Try to understand my life; that is what I myself am trying to do. Laugh, and smile, and cry, and feel my gratitude being poured out. So here I sit. I close my eyes and feel the warm sunlight on my eyelids, the soft, wild breeze tugging at my hair. I smell the fresh scent of the grass, the cool, mysterious smell of the stream at my feet, and the sharp, piercing odor of decaying leaves. I can hear the birds singing in the tree above me, the stream softly murmuring as it slips past, a distant dog barking, beloved voices laughing and calling…and something else – a voice deep inside. So I listen. __________________________________ CHAPTER ONE Voices. Not the accents of beloved friends that is music to the ears, but harsh, confusing, babbling voices. I can hear them deep within my heart, and they will never go away. Now it’s all coming back to me. * * * “Where is she? The little thief!” I sat up with a start, wrapping my cloak closely around myself, and then became very still. I scarcely dared to breathe, for fear the loud voices outside would discover my hiding place. Automatically I reached out my hand, pulling my small bag closer to myself to prepare for a hasty flight. The loud shrill voice of the baker’s wife shattered the frosty air. “She was here last night, I tell you!” she cried. “Look, a whole new loaf of bread is missing!” I bit my lip, feeling the remainder of the loaf in the bag under my hand. Stealing was one part of my life that I had never quite reconciled myself to, but it seemed to me that there was no other way to live. Footsteps squeaked and crunched in the snow just on the other side of the wall, inches from me. I guessed that it was the baker’s wife accompanied by a policeman, judging from the heavier, more ponderous sound of his footfalls. A feeling of panic gripped my heart as I realized they were paused right outside the door of the little shed that was my shelter. What would they do? Would they send me to jail? Would they put me in an orphanage when they found out I had absolutely no family, not even an aunt or uncle or a distant cousin? The terror of the unknown made me desperate to hide. I looked around the small room frantically. The only exit I could see was the small door I had entered by, and the baker’s wife and the policeman were standing right there. I silently stood up and began to run my hands along the walls. There had to be a crevice, a loose brick, something! The brick wall was cool under my hand. The night before, when I had sought refuge in this little shed, it had been warm from the ovens in the bakery next door. I had slipped in to the bakery around dinnertime when I saw that it was full of people, stood looking at the bread in the display case, and then, quick as thought, picked up a loaf and hid it deep in the folds of my cloak. I thought that I had moved the other loaves enough to cover the absence of the missing one, but apparently I hadn’t. I sighed. I truly hated this life of thievery. I was so small for my age that no one would hire me without many complicated questions that I felt sure would lead to me being sent to an orphanage. I had a strong dread of being sent there. I had heard only terrible things about them from the few other children I met who were drifters like myself. A few of them had spent brief stints in orphanages, and told of the meager food; the cruelty of the “heads”; the people who came to look for “help”, when in reality all they wanted was a slave. No, I could not let myself be caught. I heard the voices outside. “These must be her footprints,” said the policeman in his deep voice. I had seen him around and naturally hid from him, but I felt he was probably quite a nice man in reality. I couldn’t be as complimentary about the baker’s wife, however. Shrewish and mean was her small, pinched face, shrill and complaining her voice. “I’m sure they are!” she exclaimed now. “Hiding in our shed just because it’s warm, like the little parasite she is!” “Now, now, it’s the coldest day of the year! Surely you wouldn’t begrudge a poor child a place to sleep?” said the policeman reasonably. I wouldn’t be surprised if she would begrudge it, I thought. “Well, not in my shed! This girl is nothing but trouble. I’ve seen her around, up to no good.” “She should be in a Home,” said the policeman firmly. “The streets are no place for a girl.” And I agree with you with all my heart! I thought fervently. I would like to be in a home, just not the kind you are referring to. I must find a way out of here!

Ink and Fairydust October 1 st

, 2009 Issue 2, Volume I __________________________________________________________________________________________________ OPERATION LIBRARY! By The Editor All right, friends! We are all of us fans of Regina Doman and there's nothing we like better than getting other people involved in the fun as well. So I'm issuing a challenge! I challenge each of you to go to your local library sometime before October 31st and fill out a request form for each of Regina's four Fairy-Tale Novels. Some of you will even be able to do it online at your library system websites - I was. It took me less than five minutes per book to track down the info and type it in - and I'm going to make it even easier for you! There will be a small form to fill out, for which you will need the following information: Title: The Shadow of the Bear Author: Regina Doman Publisher: Chesterton Press ISBN: 0981931804 Price: $17.00 Format: Book Forum Family Fantasies “The latest adventures of our online family” By Lady Rose Rivendell – We have heard from a reliable witness that Annette nearly became a vampire just this month past! In an effort to save Annette from becoming vampirized Elena, Theodred, Rose, Josh and many othes made haste to Dracula’s castle to find a cure. We are told one was found and that Dracula was killed in the process. On top of all that, Elena and Delaney discovered that they have become werewolves. Angmar – The residents of Angmar recently saw a visit from Liz, Riley, Emmy… and Murtagh. We regret to report that Murtagh – who was decidedly NOT himself – sent Emmy to another world, from which she shall never return. We were also told that Lanta temporarily lost her mind (it has found her body again, never fear), and that a mysterious young girl named Bailey has arrived. has been rescued, Carpe has returned and Rosebud was stabbed by a Morgul blade and has not yet recovered. The last we heard, Q and Carson Drew were in the capitol of an alternate universe and are trying to find Katerigirl. Cair Paravel – An eyewitness reported to us that Michael and Josh both nearly died – Michael of an unknown poison and Josh by Dracula’s poisoned sword blade. We are glad to report that Josh is on the mend, but are sorry to say that we suspect the poison did something to Michael, who has locked Jo in prison on the grounds of trying to assassinate him! On a happier note, we have been told that Rose and Jo are both expecting! Green Gables – The identity of Katerina’s mysterious stranger is finally revealed! We have been told that his name is Adam Wayne of Notting Hill.

Title: Black as Night Author: Regina Doman Publisher: Chesterton Press ISBN: 0981931820 Price: $18.00 Format: Book Title: Waking Rose Author: Regina Doman Publisher: Chesterton Press ISBN: 0981931847 Price: $20.00 Format: Book Title: The Midnight Dancers Author: Regina Doman Publisher: Chesterton Press ISBN: 0981931863 Price: $17.00 Format: Book And if you're really ambitious, send off an e-mail with this info to any of your friends who are also fans of our favorite authoress! -Elenatintil, Editor-in-Chief Cullen Manor –We have been informed that the Blythe family has been normal lately. Ana Blythe and some of her daughters were kidnapped and held for ransom; which all turned out to be a case of mistaking Ana for Princess Anastasia. The affair ended well and all are back home. Bayport – We are delighted to report that Joe may have finally found a cure for his cancer. However, we are not delighted to report that it is terribly risky and may end up killing or damaging him permanently. We would like to extend our congratulations to Ella and Joe, who are expecting another child; Liz and Riley, who were finally married September 19th; and to Katalia and Frank and Rosa and Robert on the birth of their children! Clare’s Headquarters –We are deliriously overjoyed to announce that Alex has returned! Wind in the Willows – We are informed that McKay and Rosemary are still kidnapped, Fluffy is still with her deranged grandfather, Hadassah SOTB Production Update By Elenatintil I met with Hannah and Sharayah to discuss the fall filming schedule this weekend. We were able to pinpoint a number of days that should work for filming, much to my delight, since both of the girls are once again engaging in theatrical performances (“Little Shop of Horrors” and “A Christmas Carol”). This fall we will begin work on the school sequences, as well as smaller scenes such as the girl's bedroom and the thrift shop. We are still looking for a church to use for the interior scenes in St. Lawerances. If you have contacts with a church in Mpls/St. Paul, please contact us. theshadowofthebear@ymail.com

Ink and Fairydust October 1 st

, 2009 Issue 2, Volume I __________________________________________________________________________________________________ On the Dangers of Making Assumptions By Lady Rose (Editor's Note: Our adventures on our family threads are widespread, ranging from werewolves in Old London to Empire/Nazi alliances in alternative universes. Yet what makes our stories so real is that we find ways to dramatize even the simplest aspects of life. Lady Rose, in a clever effort to raise questions about certain circumstances, wrote a hilarious lecture to her daughters that I asked her to submit to the newspaper for everyone's enjoyment. So happy reading – and remember, appearances aren't always what they seem!

-Elenatintil) Since my daughters have been making assumptions right and left around here, I thought this 'twould be a good time to zap into my motherly teaching role and point out how making assumptions can be dangerous. So you are all assuming that Rose is going to have a baby. I shall start out with examining what I have said so far that has led you to assume so, and conclude with examples of when making assumptions led to disastrous results. Point 1 = Rose was dizzy. Well, that perhaps was not a good choice of adjectives, but I did sufficiently explain why Rose was dizzy with "I wonder how long it's been since I've slept?" I don't know about you, but I tend to be a bit dizzy myself when I haven't had much sleep, been stressed out and have not been eating properly. Due to Josh and Michael both being very sick, I should think it obvious that Rose has not done much sleeping, relaxing or eating since she is a mom and mom's just don't do those sorts of things. Point 2 =

Doctor: Thank you. *as he leaves* I just remembered, the test you asked for the other day. Rose: *looks up quickly* This is a minor point, but 'looking up quickly' doesn't necessarily mean the person is eager about what they are about to hear. Point 3 = Okay, so how often are positive test results a good thing? Positive tests always mean you have something, and that's only a good thing if you have a baby. But honestly, after 17 kids (though some of them were adopted), don't you think Rose would know if she is pregnant without needing a test? Point 4 =

Rose: Thank you, doctor. Now note here that Rose only says "Thank you," which is the natural polite response for any feedback someone gives you, whether it be good or bad. Now if Rose had said "Thank you doctor *beams*", or "Thank you doctor *looks disturbed,*" you could assume more. But all she said was "Thank you," which is, as I said, the natural and polite thing to say. Now, moving onto the dangers of making assumptions. Point 1 = From personal experience. Once I tried out for the role of Saint John the Apostle, for a production that my theater troupe/girls club was going to be performing. I must have done pretty well, because a lot of the girls told me afterward up until we got the results "You did so good! I'm sure you'll get the part." That led me to assume that I probably would get the part. So when I found out that I didn't get the part, quite naturally I was crushed for about a week or so, before I was finally able to accept it and move on. So we can therefore see how making assumptions can lead to disappointment. Point 2 = hypothetical situation Let us say, that there is a person who is escaping from some place, say a castle. The person uses every ounce of his wits and thinking skills to outwit his pursuers until at last he hasn't seen hide nor hair of them for several days. He continues on in cautiousness, until at last, he assumes that he is safe and is no longer being followed. This causes him to become less careful as he otherwise would have been, and ultimately lands him back in the castle because he was still being followed. The pursuers had lost the trail, but due to the escapee assuming he was not being followed, they found him again, caught him and beheaded him. So we can therefore see how making assumptions can lead to death. I hope you have now all seen how making assumptions is very often not a good or wise idea, as well as how you really have no reason to think that Rose is pregnant. I shall now step down from my soapbox and let you continue on with... whatever it was that we were doing. (A few days later...) Now my darling children, by your responses both online and off, I feel it is time for a lecture. Don't fear: this one shall be much shorter. *clears throat*

Brief Lecture on Paying Attention It has come to my attention, dearest children and niece (Yaviel), that none of you must be very good at paying attention. For shame! Didn't your mother ever teach you critical reading? (Don't answer that question.) Now, if you had been paying attention - or if I had been a little less brilliant - (Ignore that part) you might have noticed that never once did I ever, anywhere say that Rose was not pregnant. Not once! Did none of you pay attention to the essay on not assuming anything?!? You read it - and then assumed that you were wrong!!! (Never mind, though, that was what you were supposed to do!) All I did was point out that you had no proof for assuming. Now that my lecture is over, I shall extend my sincerest sympathies to you, for having to put up with a mother such as myself, and can only say that I'm glad that I'm not you and don't have to put up with myself and my diabolical schemes (because I would go insane). (Second Editor's Note: Just a few days later Rose revealed that her character was, indeed, pregnant. But she certainly led her daughters on a confusing ride before admitting the truth! Bravo, dear sister!

-Elenatintil)

Ink and Fairydust October 1 st

, 2009 Issue 2, Volume I __________________________________________________________________________________________________ Concerning Waterfalls.... By Lantalamiste Though there are many very tall waterfalls in the world, not all are well-known, many being located in areas so remote that they have only been discovered recently. There might be even taller waterfalls still undiscovered... so if you ever go backpacking through the Amazon, keep an eye out for one. ;) cascading water can create extra “limbs” of the falls. It was discovered accidentally in the 1930s by Jimmie Angel, an American aviator. (However, the native people had already known of it.) The area surrounding Angel Falls is known for its particular beauty—myriads of flowering plants grow near the plateau, including orange and yellow lantana, the purple Princess Flower, pink Mimosa, and many varieties of orchids and bromeliads. separate tiers. Two are visible from the air, and when water drops into a large basin, a third plunge emerges. Trees in the surrounding forests reach as tall as 100 feet.

And... ...the highest waterfall in the USA is the Olo'upena Falls, located in Hawaii on the island Molokai.

Number Two Tugela Falls, South Africa

The Niagara Falls is one of the most famous waterfalls in the world, but at only 176 feet, there are others even taller. Read on to find out about the three highest waterfalls in the world...

Number One

Angel Falls, Venezuela

Angel Falls is the highest waterfall in the world, plunging down for an astonishing 3,212 feet. Because of the plunge’s tremendous heights, gusts of wind create massive mists and spray around the nearby plateaus, and rains mixing in with the

Beginning at the top of Mont Aux Sources, Tugela Falls consists of five separate tiers. Its tallest single drop is 1,350 feet, but the waterfall’s total height is 3,110 feet. It’s a fairly thin waterfall, with a 50 foot width, and an average volume of about 50 cubic feet per second.

Number Three Three Sisters Falls, Peru

Surrounded by huge mountains on either side, most pictures of this waterfall are aerial photos. Olo'upena Falls is tiered and would likely be classified as a ribbon waterfall because of its extremely thin appearance. The waterfall doesn't have much water running through it, but it makes up for a lack of water with its massive height—at 2,953 feet, it is also the fourth tallest waterfall in the world.

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Ink and Fairydust October 1 st

, 2009 Issue 2, Volume I __________________________________________________________________________________________________ *~*Rose*~*'s Reviews Little Women by Louisa May Alcott Little Women by Louisa May Alcott has always been one of my preferred books to go back and read again and again. Ever since I received it as a birthday present quite a while back, I have continued to reach for this one not once, not twice, but countless times. Inevitably, I ask myself why it is that I have not lost interest in this classic like I lost interest in so many other stories as I entered the teenage years. I was engrossed in the plot the first time I read the book as a young girl, though I did not fully understand everything in how it symbolized certain traits, such as responsibility, integrity, and courage in the face of hardships. (Seton corrected that fault.) Still, I knew when I closed the cover after the first reading that I had not closed this volume for the last time. Something about the lives of these four girls touched my heart and soul more deeply than anything I had ever encountered in a book. What is immediately noticeable is the size of this charming tale. It is quite long, but I can assure you that it is worth every second of your time. Be sure to take time to really take in the action, the girlish hopes, and the crushed dreams. I am reading this through yet again. As always, the book has an entirely different meaning for me now that I am older. Marmee’s advice on how to make sure that you are either happily married or an old maid was both humorous and bigger than life to me. I am in the midst of a transitional phase in my life, and her gentle yet firm words went straight to my heart, something that had never happened before in all of my previous readings. I am a lot like Meg, the oldest, who likes to be in charge of those who she knows and loves. When I was re-reading the fictional story made up of various significant characters such as Mr. Brooke, Laurie, Jo, and Fred Vaughn in the chapter entitled Camp Laurence, I noticed that Mr. Brooke’s beginning really showed what he was feeling about one of the March girls at the time. You just have to look deeper to find that deeper meaning beyond the surface meaning. As is true with any work of fiction or nonfiction for that matter, you will be rewarded beyond belief if you only look at words with a focus on the story between the lines, so to speak. In conclusion, this is a very heart-toheart story. Just like real life, it is not composed entirely of laughter and sunshine, romance and joy. It has a very real tragedy and a personal struggle that is resolved only after coming to grief and severe pain. I do not know what else I could say to convince you to read this book, so I leave you with that. The Thirsting’s Companions of the Lamb I honestly cannot say enough good things about this CD. It contains wonderful Catholic rock songs that you can relate to, pray along with, and dance to. Could it get any better? Maybe, in their next acoustic album, which I will be in! Let me explain. They came to a Catholic retreat that I attended this last summer. Everything about this band absolutely amazed me, and still does. They could have chosen to just look down on us and do their job, play the music, be in charge of praise and worship and making the youth excited, and be done with it. However, they did so much more than that! Even though they did not have to, they really took the time to connect with each person attending. At meal times, they took the time to sit down with everyone and really get to know them for who they were. They asked about their passions, their goals, their hopes, their fears, and their dreams. Not only that, but they came to Mass with the retreat every single day. Therefore, this band not only sings about their faith, they live it. Every single day I have seen them in action, they have been a light shining in the darkness of the world. During this retreat, there was an event titled “The Olympics.” This was a memorable occasion, to say the least. I had the opportunity to compete against a team containing members from The Thirsting. They all joined in the fun! Matt, one of the band members who plays the keyboard and piano quite skillfully, was up against me for something that I would never choose to do on a voluntary basis: sumo wrestling. Please understand that this was not by my choice; I was the tallest one in my team who had not gone yet. While Matt is tall and slender (as am I), I discovered right off the bat that he was much stronger than me. (Who would have thought this to be possible?) Seeing as I have no brothers, I had never had that much experience with wrestling whatsoever. Inevitably, he won. I did enjoy the match though. Now I can say I wrestled with a Catholic rock band member. Watching them perform, I could just see the passion in their voices, faces, and every gesture. They all loved their Creator and King and it showed plainly. Each song they sang was imbued with feeling, emotion, and above all, spiritual meaning. Each spiritual experience that they chose to enhance with their musical talents was so beautiful. I will never forget the recording session. Daniel Oberreuter, the leader of the band, was enjoying himself immensely. I could just tell in his laughing eyes and smiling face. After being recorded with the rest of the youth that attended that retreat, I really have a new appreciation for what it takes to make music that others will want to hear, again and again. I am very excited for their next CD, as my friends and I can be heard in two of the songs, “Companions of the Lamb” and “Ocean of Mercy”. In closing, I will include some lyrics from one of my favorite songs on this CD, “Companions of the Lamb” (this also happens to be the title of the song). “I think about the road ahead and the pain that awaits us there but I know I will never fear cause His love will still be here and we will be companions of the Lamb…and we will follow wherever he goes.”

Ink and Fairydust October 1 st

, 2009 Issue 2, Volume I __________________________________________________________________________________________________ Fall weather getting you down? Check out these great ideas!!!

From a Kitchen Window By Qiscrazy October brings distinct changes to our outside world. A few flowers have held on through the whole month of September; late bloomers like mums and asters fill the garden with vibrant color. The weather plays an important role in our ability to enjoy nature; crystal clear skies can change to low foaming rainclouds very quickly as the cool arctic wind swoops down from the north. On days with turquoise blue skies there is no limit to the activities you can enjoy in this glorious month; but on days where the sky is perpetually gloomy, finding ways to spend your time becomes increasingly difficult. Gloomy Day Fun If you find yourself at a party that’s plans have been unfortunately gloomed out, there is a quick and relatively easy way to liven up your friends. Grab some paper and give each person one sheet and a writing utensil. Tell them to write the numbers 1-5, leaving enough room for a few sentences in between each number. Inform your friends that you are playing “How did it all End?” The easiest way to not forget what happens next is to make a “master sheet.” Write out 1-5 on the left hand side of the paper and then write these questions next to the numbers. 1 Where were you? 2 Who were you with? 3 What did you see? 4 What did you do? 5 How did it all end? Your friends don’t have to write the question on their paper unless they want to, answering the question is enough. Have everyone sit in a circle. Announce what the first question is and set the master sheet in the middle of the table for reference. Then everyone must write something—it doesn't matter what—next to number one. Keep answers short to keep the game going. When you have finished writing fold your piece of paper over so that it covers what you have written but not the next number. When everyone has done this, they pass their paper to their left. Then everyone answers the second question, and so on. When everyone has finished, place the papers in the middle of the table. Mix them together and hand them out so no one gets the same paper that they had for the fifth question. Going clockwise, have someone ask each person the five questions. They respond with the answers on the paper. You can play for as long as you like. Remember the object of the game is absolute silliness. You’ll need at least three people to play. In the Kitchen With all the fun you’re going to be having indoors you’re going to find your guests very hungry. You could just order in, everyone loves pizza, but why not make it yourself? It doesn’t take long and tastes twice as good. Here’s Q’s incredibly yummy pizza recipe: 3 cups flour 1 package yeast 1 teaspoon salt 1 cup warm water 2 tablespoons cooking oil Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. (For two larger pizzas double all the ingredients.) Combine 1¼ cups flour with yeast and salt. Stir in warm water and oil. Slowly add rest of flour. Remove dough and place on floured counter. If it's too sticky add more flour until it is easy to knead. Let dough sit for ten minutes for thin crust. For thick crust let set for more than twenty minutes. Separate dough into even halves. Use a rolling pin and roll the dough to the size of your oiled cookie sheets, then transfer the dough onto the sheets; spread the dough out to the edges of the pan. Toppings: 1 jar sauce Mozzarella cheese, shredded Pour sauce onto dough, spread with spatula. Sprinkle cheese as thin or thick as you wish – thinner if you’re adding other toppings. After the first layer of cheese add your other toppings. Place the pizzas on the middle oven rack. You really have to watch in the next fifteen minutes. Depending on your oven the pizza will cook slower or faster. It should take approximately twenty minutes. Don't try to judge by the crust—it won't be golden brown. Judge by the cheese, and stick a fork or toothpick into the crust, when it comes out clean your pizza is done. Take the pizza out immediately. The sooner you take it out the better it will taste. Place it on hot pads or a heat resistant surface. Slice the pizza up and serve to your friends! ___________________________________ Robyn's Recipes Homemade Starbucks Mocha Frappachino Ingredients: 2 cups Coffee 3-4 scoops of Vanilla Ice Cream 2-3 cups ice cubes-crushed 3 TB chocolate sauce 1/3 cup chocolate chips (or chocolate covered expresso beans) 1 cup Milk 2 TB Hot chocolate mix Add all ingredients to blender and pulse. Serve immediately and enjoy!! Passion Fruit Frozen Bars~by Robyn Ingredients: 1 (or 2-3 cups) fresh Mango-chopped 1 (or 2-3 cups) fresh Pineapple-chopped 2 banannas 1/2 cup of Vanilla Yogurt (or 2 cups Vanilla Ice Cream) 1 orange -zest and chopped 1 lemon -juice and zest Add all ingredients into a blender and liquidify. Consistancy should be soupy and at room temperature. Spread on 9X13 waxed cookie sheet. Freeze for 1-2 hours and cut into squares. Serve right away and enjoy!!!

Ink and Fairydust October 1 st

, 2009 Issue 2, Volume I __________________________________________________________________________________________________ Ideas for Halloween, or other Fall Parties by *~*Rose*~* We have now entered that time of year in which some start sighing that it is “that time of year again” and in which others enthusiastically start planning for their myriad of autumnal happenings and celebrations. Whether you are of the former or the latter sort (depending on your temperament and outlook on life in general), there is bound to be some sort of activity belonging to this time of year that will delight your fancy. While I do enjoy certain Halloween festivities, my family tends to focus more on the spiritual “All-Hallows Eve,” the evening before All Saints Day. This being said, there is perhaps no other person in this world who more enjoys carving pumpkins, dressing up, and making caramel apples than I. Of course, each one of these pastimes can be given a spiritual tangent if only a minor effort is given. Imagine the results when this is the focus of a party!

Have you ever tried to carve a pumpkin with a Catholic idea in mind? Me neither. I would like to try this, though. In years past, I have created carved pumpkins with everything from makeshift “braces” (crafted with toothpicks and rubber

bands no less) to earrings. While my taste in pumpkin carving has decidedly been pushed far back from my thoughts, it is somewhat refreshing to write this article as all these much-neglected ideas are coming to the forefront of my mind. For instance, what would happen if you created a pumpkin that looked very much like Saint Joseph with a “staff” and an old-fashioned head covering? Only an attempt will tell. Maybe I could try to carve Saint Therese of Lisieux out of my imagination, giving her a veil and a humble smile. The possibilities are truly abundant in this area.

On the other hand, when it comes to dressing up, I have been very experienced in this area. I have dressed up as many saints and other things which I do not really care to mention here. Let us just satisfy ourselves with the thought that they were not holy characters. Nothing bad did I dress up as, just very secular. Now it is very enjoyable to poke your head in a turtleneck top and pretend that you are a nun. That is, it surely was for me. I did love dressing up as a nun and acting very devout and pious. Well, I should act that way anyhow, but you know how it is. I do try my best. Last All-Hallows Eve, I made a rather feeble attempt at dressing up as a saint. I put on an old frock from days gone by and felt rather elegant with earrings and I put my hair up. When it came time to guess who was what saint, I simply looked in the dictionary of saints and selected a rich female to present. While this effort was lame, I did laugh a good deal during the telling of her story. I suggest that your family adopts this practice. It creates so many wonderful memories.

Caramel apples present many fond memories for me. I could not eat them when I had braces, so I believe we made some sort of molasses popcorn instead. Your family could talk about the recent festivities or share Catholic tidbits that someone has heard on Catholic radio, and so forth. Perhaps you could discuss the “sticky” situations confronting the Church, and how you can “bite into” the crunchy solutions. I leave the rest to your creativity and action. May you all have a glorious autumn and Halloween (All-Hallows Eve).

Concerning Fountains...

By Lantalamiste

Trevi Fountain—Rome, Italy Construction on the Trevi fountain started in 1732 by Nicola Salvi, and after his death was finished by Giuseppe Pannini in 1762. Its theme is Taming of the waters, with Tritons guiding Oceanus' shell chariot, taming seahorses. In the niches flanking Oceanus, Abundance spills water from her urn and Salubrity holds a cup from which a snake drinks. A traditional legend holds that if visitors throw a coin into the fountain, they are ensured a return to Rome. Approximately 3,000 euros are thrown into the fountain each day (about $4,411.50). The money has been used to subsidize a supermarket for Rome's needy. However, there are regular attempts to steal coins from the fountain.

Ink and Fairydust October 1 st

, 2009 Issue 2, Volume I __________________________________________________________________________________________________ disuse. After World War I, Villa d'Este was purchased for the Italian State and restored, and refurnished with paintings from the storerooms of the Galleria Nazionale in Rome.

Villa d'Este Gardens—Tivoli, Italy Villa d'Este is a 16th century water park, commissioned by Cardinal Ippolito II d'Este in 1550. In the eighteenth century the villa and its gardens were neglected and the hydraulics fell into

Listed as a UNESCO world heritage site, it is a fine example of Renaissance architecture and the Italian Renaissance garden.

Weather in Film By Qiscrazy Sirius-Bridger "It is going to rain!" "It is not going to rain." "You always say that and then it always does." ~ Sense and Sensibility In our day of special effects, green screens and synthesized audio it is very easy for us to become oblivious to the little details in our daily lives, especially in the films we watch. As Hollywood churns out more and more B-rated movies every year it becomes a real treat when we can sit down and watch something that is simply beautiful. In days gone by, weather was used to enhance movies to a great extent; Singing in the Rain, The Quiet Man and The Man from Snowy River are all wonderful examples of how weather effects the plot and adds to the storyline. Somehow this everyday occurrence of our lives makes an incredible change to a story when it is put on a movie screen. Of late directors shy away from adding the element of weather to their films. Unless you're filming an epic trilogy or series the weather of films stays about the same as it usually is in California: Sunny and 72 degrees outside. This is why these next few films are so wonderful to see in the midst of all the cookie cutter movies. As it would happen, nearly all the films that include active elements of weather are movies that have been adapted from books. There is a conscious difference between someone who is thinking the whole time they're writing "Oh, well they'll just be able to see that," to someone who is actively involved in creating a written portrait for their audience. Jane Austen’s landscapes have been beautifully captured in recent films such as the 2005 version of Pride and Prejudice and the 1995 version of Sense and Sensibility. While some people dislike these movies because they do not exactly match word for word with Austen and maybe some of the sub-plotlines are missing, I offer this; these directors, while not recreating an exact replica of the original work have captured much more of Austen’s spirit than we give them credit for. The golden sunrises, dark brooding clouds and glorious sunshine of Pride and Prejudice truly add to the picture painted in every scene of this movie. The use of day and night was also very intriguing in this film. The director chose to put several important events at either the very beginning of the day or late at night. Having Lady Catherine appear in all her glory, just as the family was settling in for the night only helps show how distressed she was at the thought of her nephew marrying Elizabeth. Sense and Sensibility is truly a favorite of mine because of the director’s attention to lighting and weather. Every single frame of this movie is lovely; paying close attention to Austen’s detailed account of everyday life, the story is full of amazing scenes. Willoughby would have never met Marianne if there had not been a rain storm and the slippery grass caused her to fall and sprain her ankle. Similarly, after Willoughby leaves without explanation the mood of the film becomes melancholy as everyone is stuck indoors due to several days of rain. Marianne’s sickness is caused by her journey to the top of the Palmer’s hill to look at Willoughby’s house during a downpour. Margaret, the youngest daughter is told to, “Keep her conversation restricted to the weather,” if she cannot think of anything nice to say. Everything works in harmony in this movie because of this attention to weather. Our way of understanding is rooted in our senses; we see a certain setting in a movie or scene, see the surroundings, the trees, structures, but what we connect with the most is the weather. In a small scene used to depict their new life at Barton Cottage, Elinor jumps into bed and snuggles under the covers. Her statement to Marianne of, “your feet are cold”, instantly connects us to her as a character. When Mrs. Jennings becomes impatient with the endless amounts of rain we understand her feelings. While all these things might seem trivial, somehow this author finds it quite marvelous to see a film with real scenes, real places, real situations, rather than a few actors on a sound stage or in front of a green screen again.

Ink and Fairydust EDITOR IN CHIEF Elenatintil COPYEDITOR Delaney ADVERTISING EDITOR Lantalamiste FICTION EDITOR McKay SUBMISSIONS EDITOR Lady Anastasia SENIOR WRITERS Jo March, Lady Carmie, Lady Rafka, Lady Rose, Lantalamiste, Maria, Naiadgirl, *~*Rose*~*, Qiscrazy ILLUSTRATOR Nenetta CORRESPONDANTS Dayandnight, Delaney, Gwendolyn Rose, Lady Blanche Rose, Miss Kathleen, Nenetta, Robyn SUBMISSIONS Regular submissions may be no longer than 600 words and should be submitted to Lady Anastasia via PM on the forum. Fiction submissions may be no longer than 1000 words and should be submitted to McKay via PM on the forum. Advertisements should be submitted to Lantalamiste via PM on the forum. All submissions may be edited at the discretion of the Editor with no prior notification to the author. Questions? Comments? Letters to the Editor? PM Elenatintil on the forum or send an email to inkandfairydust@yahoo.com , subject heading “Letter to the Editor.” A Look at “The Hobbit” by Gwendolyn Rose The Hobbit, a fantasy, by J.R.R. Tolkien tells the tale of Bilbo Baggins, a rich and respectable Hobbit from the Shire who goes on an adventure with a company of dwarves. Bilbo is hired as a burglar to assist the dwarves on their quest to retrieve their lost treasures from the evil dragon, Smaug. On their way they encounter many dangers, and Bilbo finds a magic ring that makes him invisible. The Hobbit is the beginning of Tolkien’s wonderful trilogy, The Lord of the Rings. When we first meet Bilbo, he is sitting on his front stoop blowing smoke rings; he seems rather dim-witted and dull. On the contrary, through the course of the book, Bilbo proves that not only is he clever, but he is also a loyal friend. This is shown when he risks his life to save his friends, the dwarves, in the forest of Mirkwood. He saves them by using cunning to trick the extremely large, man-eating spiders. Bilbo again demonstrates that he is a steadfast friend, when he frees the dwarves from the dungeons of the wood-elves, by packing them into empty apple barrels. In this instance it would have been very easy for Bilbo to abandon them; instead he stays, risking his own life to save his friends. Bilbo shows us that courage and loyalty are buried in the heart of every coward. When the dwarves first meet Bilbo they tell the wizard, Gandalf, “He looks more like a grocer than a burglar to us." They mutter darkly about how he will not be any help on their journey to the lonely mountain; they expect him to be a hindrance. On the contrary, if they hadn’t brought Bilbo along, then they would have never made anywhere near the Lonely Mountain. Though never underestimating anyone is an obvious lesson to be learned from this book, in my humble opinion, the most poignant warning in this book comes in form of the dwarves’ greed. They are willing to do anything, no matter how great the harm that may come to others, to acquire and protect their treasure. The dwarves were willing to sacrifice Bilbo’s life just for gold and silver. In his turn, Bilbo was swayed by greed, for as the dwarves reveled in their regained treasure, Bilbo pocketed Thorin’s most prized possession, the Arkenstone. When he discovers that it was Bilbo who took his stone, he tries to strangle Bilbo. In the end, Thorin dies because of his greed, but not before repenting. Bilbo also makes reparation by giving away all the treasure he gained on his adventure to his friends and family. They both found that the only wealth truly worth having is stored in heaven—earthly wealth only complicates life. Today great wealth and the need to gain that wealth wreaks havoc on the lives of many people. Take Hollywood as a prime example; the money often allows them to ruin their lives. When money becomes the focus of your life, you allow the devil to enter you life. Always keep God the center of your life and you will never stray. When I re-read Tolkien’s books I always come away with a greater understanding of the characters and another message to apply to my own life. This is a sign of a truly great author, one who writes book that will always be relative. ___________________________________ Princesses in Disguise By Naiadgirl

"Have you ever felt that there was something going on in life that not everyone was aware of?...As though the people you meet aren't just their plain, prosaic selves, but are actually...all sorts of fantastic creatures who've chosen to hide there real shape for one reason or another?" -The Shadow of the Bear At my school there is a girl who looks so like an elf, I almost expect that if I look at her ears, they will be pointed. She is short, has big grey eyes, and her nose is slightly bent and upturned, and she has a wide mouth. (These column statements are all true, I kid you not!) Coming Next Month: Shakespeare and Writing! Was Shakespeare a Catholic? NaNoWriMo! How to Write Tolkien's Elvish! ...and more!