The Microwave Story

I wrote this awhile ago now. Was on my bebo blog for ages, but hey, may as well post it here. Enjoy.



Well, late last week, a childhood dream came true: I got a microwave! After watching many videos on YouTube about things people have put in microwaves, I wanted my own. I scored one from school for FREE (the best part ... Free). So, I took it and Stanley home, chucked it on the compost bin outside, ran a lead to the house, and we were in business!

We started out with grapes. That’s right, grapes. Cut 'em in a special way, chuck 'em in, and you get a sparkly mini fireworks show. Once the grapes were burnt sacrifices, we moved to matches. These yielded disappointing results, as there was no significant sparkles, like the videos on YouTube promised me. Bummer. So, after doing nothing more than blackening the top of the microwave significantly, these were removed, as was the rotating glass plate which was getting lame. By now we were running out of ideas. I had a brainwave, and whipped off to my room to go grab a deodorant can (or 4) I have in my room. This was put in, then taken out and destroyed 5 minutes later because it didn’t do ANYTHING. Stupid can.

Then half the door we very unprofessionally removed, thanks to Stanley and Blair who had wandered up. Now we could actually see into the 'crowave.

Next, we bludged an egg off mum. This was lame at first, as it only cracked, and the cooking egg white came oozing out. Lame. Until the yoke blew up. That moved things a bit, splashing yolk, white stuff and all manner of everything else onto the walls. We laughed.

Next were the lighters. Id gathered a few in my lifetime of junk collecting, so, in they went, one at a time. They didn’t do a heck of a lot, until they lit on fire. A massive BANG/WHOOSH and a fireball, and a blown fuse, and we were laughing yet again. Until we actually realised the thing wouldn’t go anymore. So, we ripped the covering off it, and there was the blown fuse.

By this time the dog had taken an interest, and wobbled over, ate the grapes off of the plate, then the burnt matches, then the blue tack the matches were standing in, then walked off again. Weird. Dogs…

After scoring some heavier duty fuses, we got the thing going, and soon lit some more lighters on fire, and chucked em in. BOOM!!!! another lighter and another fuse - gone. This one was mostly full, however, and it blew up so hard, mum 'n dad came out of the house, plus it bent the casing around the microwave. That was funny. Scared the dog too.

After that, Blair had to go home. Pity. I walked with him to the garage, then as he walked down the drive, I went in the garage to find something to “cook.” Light bulbs. I grabbed one from it's socket, and ran it up to where Stanley was trying to cook grass. Stupid grass didn’t do anything. We pulled the grass out, and chucked the light bulb in. Turned the ‘crowave on. The bulb wasn't doing anything either. So, we took it out, then put it back in again, after realising, due to burnt fingers and hands, that it was hot.

This time we got goooooood results. It glowed purple, then yellow, then green, then orange. Then we turned the microwave off. THIS was cool. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gJhqJ... We got an audience, and did it again. Woohoo, this WAS cool. As the crowd (well, ok, Mum 'n Dad) dispersed, we took the bulb out, and I burnt myself on it yet again. We realised that the glass of the bulb was all bent and warped. Wow, it must’ve been hot in there. We tried to fry it again, but it was all burnt out, apparently. So, we just left it in the corner of the ‘wave, (no-one can be bothered chucking stuff out while cooking other cool stuff) and got some tin foil that we burnt instead. That was cool. It burnt. Suddenly, out of nowhere, the light bulb started up again. YAY for the light bulb. This time we unanimously decided to let the bulb go till it didn’t go. So, as it changed colours ranging from one end of the colour spectrum to the other, it apparently got real hot, because the glass started to bulge in one spot. This was cool. We both leaned reeeeeeal close, to see what this bulge would do. The glass started to bulge on the other side too. Except this time, it bulged REAL quick. Amidst cries of different words for “pooh”, Stanley and I leapt back from this bulging menace. We hit the dirt (Well, our feet anyway), and this bulb just goes BOOooooOOOoooooOOOOM. Like REAL loud. We stopped the cooking box, and opened it up. There was a clean $2 coin-sized hole in the bulb, along with another bulge.

That ended it for that night. We had to go out. So, we sort of half cleaned the thing out (That is, we held it over the wheeli-bin and shook all the crap out of it), and chucked it on the deck, ready for use another day.

TO BE CONTINUED .... (When I can be bothered typing out what happened in the rest of that microwaves most interesting life)

Very busy.
Busy busy busy.
Too busy ...

Heartbeat

This isn't my own writing, but I liked it so much that I thought I'd share. It is from my devotions book which I read daily:

"Physically, each of us has a unique heartbeat. Just as we each have unique thumbprints, eye prints, and voice prints, our hearts beat in slightly different patterns. It's amazing that out of all the billions of people who have ever lived, no one has had a heartbeat exactly like yours."

Why do we spend so much time and effort learning and earning?

If nothing on this earth matters as much as living for God and for Him alone, why do we go to school and learn there, to go on to university to learn there, and then go on to get a high-paying job to earn there, while we fail to ask just ONE member of the public where they are going when they pass on, for fear of being labelled eccentric?

Why have we been given so much but are so unwilling to return the favour as best we can?

Pride

The eye

The eye, a complex thing. So simple, yet infinitely complex. So uncomplicated, yet so deep. At first glance, a black orb, surrounded by a layer of colour, all immersed in a pool of white. But who can take a mere glance? One look is never enough, for when the eyes are gazed into, it is not the eyes that are seen, but the person themselves. Upon first glance, one is sucked in. Taken in to what is the eye.

Such complexity hidden behind an unadorned façade. The sea of white is as unique as the eye bearer. Different shades, different shapes, different eyes. Some white, others cream; some pure, some scathed by redness. But never ugly, is never not what it was meant for. The white is a contrast, a difference. The offset to the colour is so perfect, so balanced. Brown, green, blue or grey, this splash of colour is always beautiful. It grabs, it holds on tight. It draws the attention to the centre of the eye, the heart of the eye itself. This black orb is infinitely more than an adorned black spot. Nor is it mere black. No-one has ever seen such an unblemished black as is in the centre of eye. Where can one ever hope to find such purity elsewhere? Blackness unscathed, so pure, so perfect. It says so much with so little; one mere colour. It uses not emotion, nor sound, but is always serene silence.

When looking into the eyes of the one whom one knows well, so much can be seen in the eye. Unblemished black and white with a mere splash of seedy colour speak so fluently of character, feelings, emotions. Pictures may paint thousands of words, but eyes tell so much more. They can smile, they can shout, can growl, yell, scream. They can love, or the eye can hate. How is it that something so commonplace can say so much to the one whom can interpret their message?

Why is it that mistakes are preyed upon so readily and so savagely, but praise for good acts is so hard to come by?

Love is like our bodies:

Love hurts with growth.

When idle, it fades.
When practised, it grows strong.

It can be used for ones own gain.
Or to help someone else.

Selfish or selfless.
You choose.