Lately she's taken to almost stalking his brother, Top.  He's cute, and it's fun in its own adolescent way, but she's not sure whether it's to be closer to Top or to hear the stories.  Sometimes she asks for them, like the time she asked, in curiosity, whether Oth ever beat up on him when they were younger (Never, but they were always in his hair, annoying him.  This made her wonder whether older siblings ever knew how much younger siblings worshipped them, and how much power they could wield if they would just indulge their want to follow them around sometimes).  It's in these sudden glimmering jewels of information that makes Oth real, that takes away his perfection.  There are other little things too, like one time when she was waiting for Top to get changed for swimming (she taught him backstroke that day) and Oth made fun of how long he took, and then said "What!?" in that annoyed way older siblings have when Top called for him.  She collects these conversations and moments in a jar, slowly trying to piece Oth's real self together.

hmmmm

I have a feeling some posts have gone missing... I've been e-mailing my posts because I don't want to make it obvious to the campers that I have a blog (can you imagine the wild google searches that would result?).... not that many posts though... only a couple.

Went to Barnes & Nobles today with C.hris & K.atie, we talked about silly things and I had a moment of ecstasy when I found a table set up with 'summer reading' books... for kids! Julie of the Wolves, The Hatchet (bad), books by Avi, The Giver, The Phantom Tolbooth, A Wrinkle in Time (I bought it)! I'm glad to see these books are still being read. Then there's the new additions by Philip Pullman but no Harry Potter strangely enough!

Anyway, so will post other posts then head out of these labs.

She felt the sting at the back of her knee first, but she was too absorbed in her book to give it much regard. Soon she felt it on her hand, and looked down in bemusement to find something on her hand. It took a few moments for her to recognise the mosquito... it had been too long since she'd seen one. She felt she should slap it but by the time she'd thought about it the mosquito had drunk its fill and flown off again. She felt too lazy to chase after it, so instead she thought about the cliche of having a crush on her strangely amazing far too good to be true camp director. Or maybe just the idea of who he was.

You're just a punk-ass who failed university. I want my stuff back.