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White Catfish

Jenna of the Cold Antler Farm Blog (link in sidebar) made an interesting point last night in one of her posts:

“I loved the other world, and I especially loved the idea of it existing alongside the mundane. I think we all strive for that in some sense.”

She was talking about the Narnia series. It made me think a little bit. Do I strive for my own Narnia? I think so. I know where it is at, but I just haven’t made it there yet. It’s up in a little place called Pine Creek Valley with a barn and a field with my name all over them. I don’t really care for a house right now. I still live at home, (highschool student here) but a barn? a field? a place for a garden? Yes, please Lord!

But then my thoughts took me aback a bit. Am I setting up too high expectations? Will I ever find the perfect place for us, and have Mum & Dad agree to move there? Maybe I am growing up too fast or something. People I know (that are my age) are concerned about parties and lament about their lame English teachers and how hard their not-s0-hard-just-mundane work is.

I always have the vague feeling that those people don’t know what life is. They always tell me, “You are such a hermit. Go out for once.” I always reply: “I go outside everyday.” And then they say back: “Yeah, to take care of stinky stupid animals.” And then I tell them that my stinky stupid animals want me to go outside and play with them. (They are goats, you know, and highly playful and affectionate) I usually hang up without a goodbye and them still going on about how school is so stupid.

When I was in middle school, I had a “friend” (notice the ” “) who went fishing for the first time in 8th grade. He came into school with the pants that had a little bit of  fish blood on them. He was raving about a little fish he caught (knowing the waters around here, most likely a Perch) and how it bled on him. I asked him if he threw it back. He said no, it was already dead. It took me aback not to throw a fish back? Not to let it die in the water? How wrong. He continued to talk about all of the other little fishes he caught, until I said: “Yep, yep, I know what you mean. Last night, I went fishing too and caught a five-to-six-pound catfish. Boy, it put up a damn of a fight.” He shut up.

Thinking back on all of these things makes me think again: have I reached Narnia too? Maybe I have, I just haven’t recognized it yet.

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