Oh gosh… 3pixing this trip is gonna be hard (too many pix) but here it is:

No, there’s no point to this post. If that’s a turn-off, I invite you to click here (SFW:safe-for-work)

I know it’s technically only been a month since the business has been up and running, and most businesses don’t “make it” until 2-3 years, but I’m so impatient to see something happen. I feel like I’ve spent the money and put everything together, and now I want to see if my (well-oiled?) machine will work. I’m disappointed that I have nothing to work on, and then I remind myself that I haven’t really “matured” a marketing strategy yet. There have been a few experiments here and there, and mostly a lot of dead ends, and so (dur) there’s no business.

There is a light at the end of the tunnel… two lights, really. A new business “direction” (sort of a new way to re-package the Optix Studios expertise) and of course school starting up again in January. Spring is always a busy time for event-hosting, which means happier times for Optix!

And I have to be honest, I’m having a little bit of a hard time keeping up with this blog. It’s too easy to say “oh, I’ll post about that later” and not actually do it. I have, at this moment, 4 drafts (one of which has been sitting there since the first day I created this blog). Oh well, maybe more 3pix, because those are easy/fun to post and take no thought. (I love reviewing my photos anyway.)

I found the “song” that was the poem I heard on the radio.  (Tim Berndt – A Soldier’s Silent Night)

I heard this on the radio while listening to Christmas music.

The Gift

T’was the night before Christmas,
He lived all alone,
In a one-bedroom house made of
Plaster and stone.

I had come down the chimney
With presents to give,
And to see just who
In this home did live.

I looked all about,
A strange sight I did see,
No tinsel, no presents,
Not even a tree.

No stocking by mantle,
Just boots filled with sand,
On the wall hung pictures
Of far distant lands.

With medals and badges,
Awards of all kinds,
A sober thought
Came through my mind.

For this house was different,
It was dark and dreary,
I found the home of a soldier,
Once I could see clearly.

The soldier lay sleeping,
Silent, alone,
Curled up on the floor
In this one-bedroom home.

The face was so gentle,
The room in such disorder,
Not how I pictured
A United States soldier.

Was this the hero of whom I’d just read?
Curled up on a poncho, the floor for a bed?

I realized the families
That I saw this night,
Owed their lives to these soldiers
Who were willing to fight.

Soon ’round the world,
The children would play,
And grownups would celebrate
A bright Christmas Day.

They all enjoyed freedom
Each month of the year,
Because of the soldiers,
Like the one lying here.

I couldn’t help wonder
How many lay alone,
On a cold Christmas Eve
In a land far from home.

The very thought
Brought a tear to my eye,
I dropped to my knees
And started to cry.

The soldier awakened
And I heard a rough voice,
“Santa don’t cry,
This life is my choice;

I fight for freedom,
I don’t ask for more,
My life is my God,
My Country, my Corps.”

The soldier rolled over
And soon drifted to sleep,
I couldn’t control it,
I continued to weep.

I kept watch for hours,
So silent and still
And we both shivered
From the cold night’s chill.

I didn’t want to leave
On that cold, dark, night,
This guardian of honor
So willing to fight.

Then the soldier rolled over,
With a voice soft and pure,
Whispered, “Carry on Santa,
It’s Christmas Day, all is secure.”

One look at my watch, and I knew he was right.
“Merry Christmas my friend, and to all a good night.”

Written by a Marine stationed in Okinawa Japan.

I think Kristan should make her blog look like this… at least until Christmas.

(And aside from the fact that ONLY Kristan reads this blog… does anyone else think so?)