Daily Archives: February 3, 2011

Vote For Ebony’s Art – Happy Rabbit Year!

I took this picture in the Nelson Atkins Art Museum’s 2011 Chinese New Year’s Celebration event.  Inside the building, right when you walk in, the hall was decorated with lots of lanterns that spread the festive spirit of the holiday.

I am not a very good photographer, but do you like it?

Chinese New Year Pic #2

I hope it is ok to post a second entry. If I can’t I would like to use my first picture for the contest.

Seasons Greetings From My Apple Tree

Hello, hello, how are you here,
Little birds chirp into my ears,
The pile of leaves just blow away,
I came to your window just to say,

My blossoms now are juicy fruits,
Are specially what I produce,
I know the beach is such a hit,
Aroma at the B-B-Q pit,

My little apples, shake and rustle,
The busy squirrels just run and bustle,
Collecting berries at my feet,
‘Cause in the winter they hide and eat,

My branches bare, and blank and stiff,
You now tube, and ski, and ride a lift,
The dusty, dry, and pure white snow,
It’s getting really cold y’know,

Happy, happy, Rabbit!

Happy Rabbit Year

How many rabbits do you see in the picture? There are two rice cakes(front and back). Rice cake is called “Nian Gao” or “Nian Nian Gao” which rhymes with another phrase “Nian Nian Gao” in Chinese, meaning higher and higher, year after year.  In other words, it means increasing goodness in one’s life. It is a tradition to eat Nian Gao with other delicious dishes on Chinese New Year Eve which symbolizes advancement, wealth and good luck.  Wishes to all shiny gems Nian Nian Gao. If you like the picture, please vote for us. Thanks.

Pigs in a Blanket

Pigs in a Blanket

By Ivy Schank

Have you ever eaten pigs in a blanket? You know, it’s the mini hot dogs wrapped in bread. So don’t confuse them with actual pigs in a blanket. Well, if you have eaten them… they hate you. They think you eat them because they think you think they are actually pigs in a blanket. well, you know that they ARE NOT. But, that is beside the point. One day the pigs took a trip to the beach. they laid out their towels, and laid down with blankets on them. Someone else at the beach mistook them for food. The pigs were asleep and then the people took them, cooked them up and had a lovely pigs in a blanket dinner. (with mustard of course!)

Fireglass – Chapter 2

     The nurse, seeing my pale expression, immediately stands up. “Did I hurt you?” she asks.

       “No, it’s just-!”I stop. Why bother explaining to someone who has no idea about it? “I’ll be fine, Mrs. Powell. I just have one thing to ask, if it’s okay with you,” I say.

       “Ask away, Lizzie,” she says cheerfully. “I’m all ears.”

       “Is it okay if I borrow a wheelchair or a pair of crutches? It’s hard for me to walk because my legs are so sore.”

       Mrs. Powell grimaces. “Lizzie, I don’t usually allow students to borrow wheelchairs for fear that they will use them for the wrong reasons. However, if I loaned you a pair of crutches, you would have to walk on one leg, and I know you don’t want to do that. Just this one time – I’ll let you borrow a wheelchair- but don’t let it happen again!” She walks over to the wheelchair I had been asking about and pushes it to the chair I’m sitting in.

       “I won’t, Mrs. Powell. Thanks again!” I gingerly settle myself in the seat and wheel out of the office, heading down to the locker room before class.

       In the locker room, while everyone’s changing for gym, I wheel in. Jennifer Mayfield, my best friend, and Nicole Williams, one of my other friends, are standing next to the door, chatting. When they see me, it’s as if a chain reaction occurs. Jennifer screams, and Nicole follows suit. Then questions start coming at me from both of them.

       “OMG, Lizzie! What happened to your legs? Are you okay? OMG! Did you fall?” Jennifer and Nicole’s screams have now triggered the attention of the other girls, who are crowded around me. Like I said before – being the leader of the A-Clique and the most popular girl isn’t easy. However, my injury seems to have gotten me some extra attention.

       Everyone crowds around me, asking me questions, telling me they’ll call today. Finally, I’ve had enough. I wheel out of the locker room into the gym, telling everyone I’ll text them all about it tonight. They all shriek with excitement, because none of them knew what happened. Except me. But I don’t feel like telling them, either.

       The rest of the day passes in a blur. After school, I head back to the Biology room to pick up my assignments. I go to my locker, take all the books I need for homework, and then I wheel out to the parking lot. I pull my car keys from my purse, and I travel towards my Mini Cooper convertible. I stop in front of the car only to realize I couldn’t drive in my condition. I unlock the car, put my backpack on the passenger seat, and lock the doors. I decide to text Jennifer to see if she could give me a ride. She willingly accepts, and, ten minutes later, she arrives to take me home.

       I lay on my bed, sighing. Jennifer dropped me off two hours ago, but I still don’t have any homework done. I couldn’t focus. I tried listening to my iPod, but it didn’t do a single thing. I watched TV, but it didn’t work. I texted all of my friends twenty times each, but it just made my fingers sore. When my thirteen year old brother came home from soccer practice at 5: 15, I didn’t even bother going down to meet him. I just let him do whatever.

       “Lizzie? Are you up there? Lizzie?” he called. I listened to him take off his shoes, throw his backpack on the floor, and run up the stairs. To discourage him from coming into my room, I slam my door. The door rattles on its hinges, sending a gust of cold wind into my freezing room.

       “Elizabeth! Don’t slam the door on me. You know I hate it when you do that,” he says calmly.

       “Don’t call me that!” I snap. I had already had a long day, and I didn’t need his aggravating serenity at this moment.

       “Look. Just tell me what’s wrong.” His voice, out of nowhere, appeared in front of my closed door. I started, and jumped about three inches off my bed. “How did you get in here?”

       “Never mind,” he said, grinning. His face suddenly turned solemn. “Look, Lizzie. I know what you’re thinking about. Just forget the past. I know it’s hard to forget, but you can’t live in it forever.”

       My anger at him suddenly vanishes. “Alec, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to be such a jerk.”

       “It’s okay, Lizzie. I’ve got to go now. I can’t miss football practice. Coach would be absolutely furious.”

       After a homework-dinner (which is sort of like a TV dinner except that I do homework), I lay in bed, ready for another long day. While I had pushed the thought of the Fireglasses out of my mind, my brain wasn’t ready to give up yet. That night, it sent me a vivid dream of the incident. Every. Single. Detail.

A Game For All Horse Lovers

Are you a horse fan? Do you like riding horses or collecting pictures of them? If the answer is yes, you should try www.howrse.com. Trust me – it’s really fun! It’s a free game, and you can take care of horses, train them, enter them in competitions, and do a lot more! By the way, you have to spell the website h-o-w-r-s-e or it will go to a different website. You should try it!

Cheddar Moon – Chapter 2

       Readers, do you remember when my relatives said that everything was different in the outside world? It certainly was. After leaving the house where I had spent my entire childhood, I had stood outside in the dark, dim light of the world when it was sleeping. There was not a sound, just the calm, warm resonance of lake water lapping at the shore, the scent of a summer breeze being carried through the trees, sending blankets of soft, green leaves down onto the carpet of green grass. I stood outside for nearly one hour, breathing the scents of summer beauty, admiring all that I could see at one time. Finally, lying in the shelter of a tall, sturdy maple tree, I fell asleep, comforted by the smells and sounds of nature.

       In the morning, I awoke to the sounds of birdcalls. I had never before heard them, because my home had been so isolated from nature. I watched the sun rise from the horizon, watched the darkness of night fade, to be replaced by the vivid, bright golden colors of dawn. I slowly climbed up the maple tree, and sat on the lowest branch to eat my breakfast. I was so immersed in watching the sun rise that I did not notice an angry bird squawking and screeching above me.

         The bird turned to its nest, reached in, then dropped a squirming, wriggling worm square on my head. I shook it off in anger, then threw it with all my might to where the bird was. The worm was too heavy for me, and I dropped it onto the carpet of green grass surrounding the tree. The bird fluffed up its feathers in contempt, then flew away to get more food for its chicks. I heaved a sigh of relief, then gradually slid down the tree trunk. I kicked the worm away, where it wriggled twice then stopped moving.

           Sitting on the bag I had brought with me, I began to plan things out. I found a piece of tree bark which I used for a notebook to plan my journey, and I found some sticks to use as a calendar. I went back to the maple tree to grab more tree bark, and I stuffed the pieces into my bag. I found two old, rusted bottle caps, and I attached them to the bark pieces to make a wagon. I held everything together with some tree sap, and I put my bag onto the wagon. Now was the time to gather materials, I thought to myself. I should make use of the daylight while I have it.

       Pulling my wagon, I searched the base of the tree for any materials I could use to write with. With no luck, I sat down, brainstorming. My eyes wandered to the decaying worm, and I leaped onto my feet. I raced to the top of the tree as fast as I could, and sat on the highest branch. Looking down at the abandoned bird’s nest, I measured the distance with my eyes, and jumped. I landed on the very edge, but my weight caused the nest to tip over, and it sailed gracefully in the air before landing several feet away from my wagon. Panting with the effort, I slumped against the nest, trying to catch my breath. Once I had restored my energy, I hauled the wagon to the nest, and piled the eggshell bits into the wagon. The dried-up eggshells would work perfectly as chalk, and when I used up one piece, I still had some to spare. I counted the shell bits, and recorded it in my tree bark journal. Exhausted from all the muscle-stretching work I had done – building a wagon was no easy task – I ate a simple lunch and fell asleep. A day’s work had been done.