Friday, October 7, 2011


As I was trudging through the preemptive Rexburg snow this afternoon I pondered what I would do for my spiritual thought in Nursing 211.
Understand: giving the spiritual thought a heavy and coveted responsibility. The first day of class the instructor passes around the 'Thought Sign Up'. I see it make it pass the first row. I witness students scribble on it in the second row and 3rd. Yet- I know not where they sign up; for when the paper makes it pilgrimage to my seat, alas it is full of names with not another slot available. That thing fills up with names like seats for Phantom of the Opera fill: it happens every time and for no apparent reason. Honestly- who wants to watch a musical about an old sewer dweller seducing a chorus girl? 
This time however, things were different. Before the first seat had a chance to draw out a writing utilize I hand my weapons ready and loaded. I was swinging nunchucks, shootin' gold bullets, splitting tables in half with my bare hands and spitting my John Hancock all over the dead slice of tree (save the rain forest!)
I am very relieved to know that I will give the thought at least once before I graduate. Now back the initital perplexment:
As I said, I was trudging and pondering about what thought I should given for my hard won moment of spot light. And a song like a nymph of the forest, like a dove of the lilac tree, like a angel of mercy! came ringing in my ears. I knew what the thought would be.
Listen to it yourself. Only the dialog in the beginning shall be utilized. Feel free to take the message to heart, my gift to you:
WARNING: watching the whole thing might be painful if colorful young men make you feel uncomfortable.


  1. Clara your blogging always makes me laugh! I love, love, love your descriptiveness...

  2. I feel the need to have a miniature you so I can always have you in my pocket.