Epylle’s Confession

Guys, I have a confession to make.

Epylle Spydre isn’t real.

*audible gasp*

Yes, it’s terrible. What makes it worse is that I know some of you probably read my blog posts and get to the end, and say, “Why does she sign it Epylle Spydre? Who or what is Epylle Spydre? What does it mean?” And I never explained it. 

Well, I am going to explain it today. Sorry for the delay. Alrighty, let’s go back in time now. 

One fall day several years ago, I was at a friend’s house. I don’t recall all that we did that day, but at one point in time, we sat down to have a snack. And being fall, they had apple cider. So we decided to have that delicious seasonal drink. 

A side note: in my home, we like to call apple cider “apple spider” just because it’s fun to call it that. It’s just become part of the phraseology of our home, along with many other words like “to obnoxiate” (a synonym of annoy) and “don’t be a cheese scientist” (stop over-analyzing. That’s another fun story). 

So on this day when we were having apple cider, I said something along the lines of “I love apple spider” or “I’d love some apple spider.” I swear, I said that. But my friends (and sister) all claimed that I said “epple spider” (we still get into silly arguments about that). So, after a little bit, we decided to stop arguing. 

And then, being the weird person that I am, I said, “Hey, that has a cool ring to it. It would make a really cool name for a character.” And then I messed with the spelling a little bit, and “epple spider” became “Epylle Spydre.” 

I never created the character “Epylle Spydre.” That is, unless you count it as a persona of myself. But it’s really just a fun pseudonym. Having a pseudonym makes me feel like some sort of spiffy writer who wants to protect their identity. And who wouldn’t want that?

Hope you enjoyed my little story,

Epylle Spydre

A Place To Call Home

I know I haven’t been on in a while, and I’m sorry. So when I found an assignment that I legitimately liked, I decided that I would post it. The assignment is basically to fill in the the phrase, “I’m from”, with details and stories about your life in a poetic manner. Here is mine.

I’m from an apartment in Antalya,
The sunny city on the Mediterranean Sea,
And from swimming in the clear waters,
Clear enough to see all the fishes.
I’m from living a floor below my best friends, Laura Damla and her brothers.
Playing with them while the grownups had church.
And my other best friend, Talya,
And the time she fell off the banister and cracked her head open.
Good bonding time, that.


I’m from the pink house by the sea,
The Black Sea, to be exact,
Where we would go swimming with our neighbors
And one time, burying dead jellyfish that got washed ashore,
Marking their grave sites with sticks so that people wouldn’t get stung.
I’m from chasing the chickens back across the street,
Because if we didn’t, Zahra, the dog next door, would kill them.
I’m from going to the school down the road,
Where I thought I was so cool because I would jump off the swings and “fly”.


I’m from an apartment in Samsun,
(Still near the Black Sea),
On the top floor,
Where, if I looked down,
I was so afraid of falling into the street below.
I’m from taking walks with our housekeeper/babysitter, Gamze Teyze,
Hanging upside down on the monkey bars and getting ice cream.
I’m from doing science experiments with my dad
And learning about the birth of the United States with my mom:
Lessons filled with silk worms and yelling at the British,
Being excited that I could spell “preposterous” as a 3rd grader,
And almost running out of books to read.


I’m from a row house in Ambridge,
Right next door to my new best friends, Emily and Natalie,
And right next door to them was the park
Where we pretended we were superheroes or practiced cartwheels.
Or our other good friends, Lily, Timo, and Peter,
Who liked to play Lord of the Rings role-playing games.
I’m from my first years in public school,
Not knowing what sarcasm was,
Or being one of the four girls that didn’t watch the scary movie at the big slumber party.
I’m from still being a huge book worm
And reading at lunch when I should have been socializing with people.


I’m from the Van Dyck House in Fairfax,
The rectory of Truro Church,
By far my favorite house of all.
I’m from going to the homeschool group at Truro,
Where I met Sarah,
Who nurtured an obsession of Harry Potter in me,
Dressing up in her mom’s dresses
And pretending we were at the Yule Ball.


I’m from the old house on Edwards Ferry Rd.,
Here, in Leesburg,
Right across the street from cows,
The horses, Chaps and Diamonte,
And the peacocks:
James George Joseph Teal III, his wife, Samantha Jane, and later Henrietta
(all christened by my siblings and me)
I’m from a transition to public school (again),
Which led to getting into AoS and the best friends I could have.
I’m from the new concept of “late nights” as I started high school,
Which Mr. T, my science teacher, contributed to a lot.
I’m from being transformed from an awkward caterpillar
Into a (still clumsy, but less awkward) butterfly.


I’m from the house we moved into a year ago.
I’m from changing schools and making new friends,
Something I’ve had to do a lot over my life.
But I’m also from my closest and deepest friendship
With my little sister and shadow, Tara.
I’m from my blog,
Every day, asking what to write about,
Yet somehow pulling off a philosophical musing that sounds great.
I’m from being given the chance to show love to my friends
And crying over things for no reason.
I’m from days looking for the sun,
And it finally feeling like home when I found it.
Only 2 more years, and then off to college
And another place to call home.


Believing in the Unbelievable

A friend asked me to make up a story recently, so I did. Unfortunately, I had to send him the story in a text, so I didn’t get the chance to elaborate on it. So I’m going to do that here! (I actually also took out one part because it wasn’t important. All good fun.)

Once upon a time,—I know that’s cheesy start, but bear with me— there was a squirrel named Maximus. This particular squirrel was courageous and dreamy, unlike all of the other squirrels. Fancies would pop into his head, and he would follow them on many wild goose chases toward nothing. Everybody knew him as Crazy Max, but he didn’t care, for he lived in a world full of fairies and dragons and all sorts of fantastical things that the others didn’t believe in.

One day, Maximus saw a brilliant rainbow. So brilliant, he decided, that he would go out and find the end of it. Everybody wished him a fond farewell, sure that he had gone completely off his rocker. But Maximus didn’t care, for he was filled with courage and faith.

Off Maximus went, and before he knew it, he ran into a fox. Since Maximus didn’t know how to find the end of the rainbow, he decided to ask the fox. The fox, thinking he was a very stupid squirrel, didn’t answer him, but instead tried to gobble him up. And while Maximus wasn’t the brightest, he was one of the fastest squirrels, and was able to get into the safe branches of a tree. The fox soon left, and Maximus decided to keep going, though more warily than before.

Still in search of the end of the rainbow, Maximus found an owl. Knowing that owls were supposed to be the wisest creatures, Maximus hastily approached the owl and asked him how to get to the end of the rainbow. The owl was a firm believer in reason and logic, and therefore, thought the “poor little squirrel” to be “completely and absolutely deranged”. Considering it his civic duty to dispose of the creature that was “probably rabid”, the owl also tried to eat Maximus. This time, Maximus couldn’t hide in a tree, so he found a hole in the ground. He was thoroughly terrified of the owl and couldn’t believe his bad luck. Eventually the owl left out of frustration, but Maximus stayed in his hole, cowering in fear. But eventually, his exhaustion won out on his fear, and Maximus fell asleep.

When he woke, Maximus decided to continue his journey. Tired and scared and starting to believe that maybe he was wrong about the rainbow after all, Maximus’ motivation had left him. He blundered on, still following the rainbow, but not even bothering to look at the rest of his surroundings. That is, until he stumbled on a mountain of toadstools. Confused, Maximus looked around him. He had found the end of the rainbow! And here, at the end of the rainbow, was the fabled city of the fairies. Along with the mountain of toadstools, they also had beds made out of cobwebs and the whole place sparkled with dewdrops. All the fairies, blue, pink, green, red, and many other colors, surrounded Maximus. One regal-looking fairy came up to him and asked him how he had found the place. When Maximus responded out of the honesty in his heart, this fairy told him, “Because of your great faith and courage, we will make you our king!” Maximus was honored and delighted, and he lived the rest of his life with the fairies, resolving many of their conflicts with the squirrels and other creatures of the rest of the world.

The end.

I enjoyed writing that. I hope you enjoyed reading it. Now, I’ll only do a little bit of philosophizing, because I don’t want to make this post super long. I guess if you could give that story a moral it would be about the virtues and wisdom of faith, even when faith goes against wisdom. Because faith is built upon that which does not have experience or logic to back it up, it can often go against wisdom, or rather, reason. The book I just finished this morning, My Sister’s Keeper by Jodi Picoult, agrees with me: “If you say that you believe something to be true, you might mean one of two things—that you’re still weighing the alternatives, or that you accept it as a fact. I don’t logically see how one single word can have contradictory definitions, but emotionally, I completely understand.” Once again, faith goes beyond logic, but as Picoult points out, it makes perfect sense in our emotions. Faith is a part of our souls and by its very definition, goes beyond logic. But just because it doesn’t make sense logically doesn’t mean it’s wrong. Just a thought.

Enjoy your lemonade,

Epylle Spydre