Getting ready...

As you may have noticed, I changed the title of my blog from "Summer 2005" to "Summer 2006!!!!!" Not so drastic, but the one number and the five exclamation points make a world of difference. But back onto my origianal topic. I was thinking that I should get back into the habit of blogging. Like last summer I was pretty consistent, but over the school year I kind-of got...ya know....really busy. (Actually I still am really busy, but that's not the point.) So as we were planning our trip to Africa again, I was thinking that I should start again. Except that I don't know what to write about. I guess I'll just write about random stuff. Upload random pictures of me and my friends. Hmmmmm, maybe song lyrics.....yeah song lyrics! Or maybe I'll write a bunch of stuff that doesn't make sense and put it in a bunch of different bright colors to fool you. Yeah, that sounds good. Or maybe not. But whatever I write about, right now I'm committing to blog something once a week. There. Well, I guess this would be considered my first post. Or actually, I'll post these lyrics to one of my favorite songs. It makes me want to go back to Africa.

Land of the Free by Andrew Peterson

Little Elba, how's the sun in South America?
Does it shine upon the faces of the poor?
Do they see in it the brilliance of the place that's been prepared,
and dwell upon the hope of what's in store?

Or are they just like me?
Do they only see an opportunity to complain about the heat?

And little Elba, how's the rain in South America?
Does it fall upon the rooftops of the sick?
Do they thank the Lord for coming up with such a great idea,
and dream about a place beyond all this?

Or are they just like us?
Do they gripe and fuss about the rain and mud when they've had too much?

Cause I'm just a little jealous of the nothing that you have
You're unfettered by the wealth of, of a world that we pretend is gonna last

Well, I'm weary of the spoils of my ambitions
And I'm shackled by the comfort of my couch
Well, I wish I had the courage to deny these of myself,
and start to store my treasure in the clouds

Cause this is not my home
I do not belong where the antelope and the buffalo roam

And I'm just a little jealous of the nothing that you have
You're unfettered by the wealth of, of a world that we pretend is gonna last

They say God blessed us with plenty I say you're blessed with poverty
Cause you never stop to wonder
whether earth is just a little better than the land of the free

Well, I hope you're safe and dry in South America
Cause I'm feeling pretty good in Tennessee
May you never be so happy that you forget about your home
Your home in the land of the free