Monthly Archives: March 2011

Check out this local Chinese Cultural Summer Camp!

 

http://www.ccconn.com/subpages/summbercamp_2011.html 

“This summer, Chinese Culture Connection, LLC will have a five-day Chinese language based summer camp. The purpose is to provide a Chinese language speaking environment to strengthen students’ listening and speaking skills while they are exploring Chinese culture through our cultural lessons and activities. The cultural lessons and activities will include Chinese etiquette, Drama, Brush Painting, Calligraphy, Kong Fu, Folk Dance, Chinese Chess, Chinese songs, Chinese craft making and traditional Chinese games. We will have a few camp instructors directly invited from China. They are excellent teachers selected by the Overseas Chinese Affairs Office of the State Council. If you are looking for improvement in Chinese and enrichment for your child(ren), please join us. “

Fruit Celebration – Reciepe

The celebration Cups

Yum! This is a reciepe for drinks for a party. It looks good doesn’t it?? 🙂 🙂

Prep: 30 min. plus refrigerating

2 cups of boiling water

2 pkg. (4 serving size each) Jell-o cherry flavor gelatin

4 cups ice cubes

3 cups of thawed Cool Whip

1 cup cherry pie filling

Stir boiling water into the cherry gelatin in large mixing bowl until completely dissolved. Add the ice, and stir until the gelatin thickens. Remove any unmelted ice.

Add the whipped topping. Stir until blended evenly. Refrigerate 20 min, or until slightly thickened.

Stir in pie filling. then spoon into 12 champange glasses. Refrigerate until firm.

Make 12 servings, 2/3 cups each.

X-tras: Garnish with additional Cool Whip. Then add 12 decoration cherries (the one without pits), one for each glass. Enjoy!!!!

Word After Word After Word – Chapter 5

     The next day May came to school with a grim look, and Russell came with his writing.

   “May? You look thunderous,” said Henry.

   “Hen, you’ve been reading the dictionary,” I said.

   “I have.”

   “My very, very, very dumb mother is going to adopt a very, very dumb baby,” said May.

   “Too many verys,”, said Hen.

   “There can never be too many verys about this,” said May.

   “Your mother is not dumb. She’s smart,” I said.

   “Until now she was smart,” said May.

   “There’s one thing,” I said.

   “What?” grumped May.

   “You have something to write about,” I said. “And I sure wouldn’t mind having a brother or sister.”

   “Get a cat,” said May.

   She glared at me and stomped to her seat.

   Ms. Mirabel watched her. Ms. Mirabel wore purple today. Everything was purple: her skirt, her top, her shoes, her headband that failed at holding back that hair.

   “Is there trouble?” she asked.

   “A new baby at May’s house,” said Hen. “Her parents are adopting.”

   “Ah,” said Ms. Mirabel.

   I thought about Evie’s father saying “ah”.

   “Does May have any brothers and sisters?”

   “Four sisters. May is the  youngest one.”

   Ms. Mirabel smiled.

   “I remember loathing my baby brother.”

   “Like outliners,” said Hen.

   “Like outliners,” she repeated.

   “You probably love him now. Right?” I said to her.

   She looked at me as if surprised at the question.

   “Your brother,” I repeated.

   Ms. Mirabel sighed. “No, Lucy. He’s not a very nice person, as it turns out.”

   Ms. Mirabel shook her heads as if chasing aways thoughts. She looked at the class, everyone sitting quietly now.

   “Let’s read!” she said. “Russell? did someone whisper to you?”

   Russell got up and stood at his desk. The paper shook a bit in his hand.

   “Yes.”

   “And who whispered to you?”

   “My dog,” said Russell. “Just before he died.”

          I’ll fly away

          Above the big maple tree

          Where I peed every day.

         I’ll fly away

         Above the garden

         Where I dug up carrots

          And radishes

          Where I rolled in something

          Bad smelling.

          I liked running with you

          And chasing balls

          And sleeping under your quilt.

          But now

          I’ll fly away.

                                                  ———— Russell

Combining States and Capitals

On a car ride, my brother and I made up weird things combining two states to make a new one. My brother thought of the states, and I made up the stuff. Here are some examples:

New York+Kansas=New Yansas or Kansork. Capital: Albeka or Topekany.

Nebraska+Colorado=Coloraska or Nebrado. Capital: Lincver or Dencoln.

Colorado+South Dakota=South Colorota or South Dakato. Capital: Denerre or Piver. Note: Piver is pronounced PEE-ver not Pi-ver. Denerre is pronounced Den-AIR not Den-er.

Florida+Louisiana=Louisiorida or Floriana. Capital: Baton Rasse or Tallarouge. Note: Baton Rasse is pronounced Ba-ton Ra-SEE. Tallarouge is pronounced Ta-luh-rooge.

Those are just a few of the ones we came up with. Our favorite state is New Yansas and our favorite capital is Piver.

Word After Word After Word – Chapter 4

   We sat in Evie’s bedroom, Evie hiding behind the curtain, looking across the yard to the house next door. A woman was moving things inside.

   “A new neighbor. She looks healthy,” said Evie. “She has short, curly, yellow hair. Actually, she’s beautiful,”

   “Not that it matters,” reminded Henry.

   “Of course,” said Evie. “My father doesn’t need a beautiful woman. Just a woman.”

   May and I laughed.

   Evie’s cat, Looley, came in, saw us, and hissed before he began to frantically lick himself.

   Evie’s brother, Thomas, came, too, carrying empty pots from the kitchen. He sat them down and began stirring each with a wooden spoon. The light came in the window and touched his blond hair. He was short and stocky like a rain boot.

   “Hello, Thomas,” said Henry. “What’s up?”

   “Soup,” said Thomas seriously.

   “Two pots of soup?” asked Henry.

   Thomas nodded as he stirred.

   “One is good. One is bad,” said Thomas.

   “Which is which?” I asked.

   Thomas looked up and smiled.

   “Guess.”

   We laughed. Evie smiled as her father came into the room to scoop up Thomas. He leaned down to kiss Evie on the top of her head.

“We’re going for a bike ride,” he said.

   “Look, Papa,” said Evie. “An interesting woman is moving in next door.”

   Her father leaned next to her to peer out the window.

   “Ah, yes,” he said.

   After they left, Evie smiled at us.

   “He said ‘ah’ – did you hear?”

   “Your father always says ‘ah,’ Evie,” I said.

   Outside, her father rode down the driveway, past our window, Thomas sitting on a seat behind him wearing a helmet.

“We’re going for a bike ride,” he said.

   “Look, Papa,” said Evie. “An interesting woman is moving in next door.”

   Her father leaned next to her to peer out the window.

   “Ah, yes,” he said.

   After they left, Evie smiled at us.

   “He said ‘ah’ – did you hear?”

   “Your father always says ‘ah,’ Evie,” I said.

   Outside, her father rode down the driveway, past our window, Thomas sitting on a seat behind him wearing a helmet.

   “I don’t have one thing in the world to write about,” said May. “My life is the same, day in, day out.”

   “You’re lucky,” said Evie.

   “You could make up something drastic,” said Hen.

   “Drastic?” said May. “Like what?”

   Hen shrugged.

  “Disaster. Violence. Alienation,” said Henry promptly. “I read those words on the back of an adult novel the other day.”

   “I don’t have any of that,” said May.         

   “How about this,” said Henry, frowning. “How about I push you. A little violence.”

   May laughed.

   “Do you see any kid stuff? Bicycles, toys?” I asked Evie, knowing that is what she was looking for.

   “Nothing!”

   Evie came out from behind the curtain and looked at us.

   “She’s single,” she announced matter-of-factly. “I know it!”

   “Evie,” said May, “what if your father doesn’t want a new woman?”

   May’s voice was so quiet that we all looked up. There was silence. Evie’s face was still and thoughtful. Finally, she picked up her notebook. She opened it.

   “I have a character anyway. Like Ms. Mirabel says.”

   She wrote something down.

   I looked out the window and watched the woman next door carry a box into the house. A cloud passed over the sun, darkening the grass and trees for a moment.

   “Her name is Sassy DeMello,” said Evie.

   “Sassy DeMello??!” hooted Henry. “What kind of a name is Sassy?”

   “Do you mean your character’s name or the name of the woman next door?” I asked.

   “Both,” said Evie. “I like Sassy. She looks a bit like a Sassy.”

   We burst out laughing, but Evie ignored us. She put down her notebook and walked to the window to look out.

   “What do you think?”

   “I think you are a very funny girl,” said Hen. “And probably you will be an amusing writer.”

   Evie turned to grin at Henry. She hadn’t smiled much lately, and we all smiled back at her. Then she got serious. It was a little like the cloud passing over the sun again.

   “But Henry,” she said. “This isn’t funny.”

   “I know,” said Hen.

    She has come here after a sad time. Sassy has left much behind: her home, her life, the friends who made her smile. The sun lights up her loneliness. But she won’t be lonely for long. I will save her.

    I will save my father, too.

                                            ————– Evie

The World Down Below (Complete Story)

               

The World Down Below

By April Ma

                “…..13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20. Ready or not, here I COMMMEEEEE!!!” Larry called.

                He’ll never find us here. No, not this place, unless we were playing Marco Polo. Gilda thought.

                Connie, Gilda, and Larry, were playing hide and seek. Of course, this was a baby game, but teenagers can still enjoy it. Which was exactly what they did. Kind of.

                They were all bored, but their Aunt Jenne was coming the day after. So, they could get rid of some of this childish nonsense, for now…..

                Connie was a girl, sporty, quick and adventurous, and she knew quite lot of languages. Gilda was an indoor girl, straight A+s, since 2nd grade. Larry, on the other hand, was a mix of in between, with a great ear for hearing, with a dash of obedience for his sisters. But he was just a little younger.

                Connie and Gilda sneaked into a round stone door, nearly swallowed up with ivy and mold. Squealing, they tip-toed in.

                “Holy cow! I’d like to explore this place!” Connie gasped

                “This must be the ancient ruins those construction workers were blahhing about, Connie!” Gilda whispered.

                No reply.

                “Connie?”

                Still no reply, but a rustle of branches from a nearby oak tree.

                “Aunt Jenne’s going to miss you!!!!”

                Too late! She realized Connie had already gone exploring. She panicked for a while.

                “LAARRRRYYYYY!!!”

                “Uh-huh? Hmmm…. uh… where’s Connie??”

                “THAT IS WHY I TOLD YOU TO COME!”

                “Ohhh… then…………”

                He climbed up the same tree the rustles came from. Gilda followed, eager to find her sister, but desperate to go home safe.

                At the top, they were baffled to find the trunk hollow, smooth and big. Next to it lay a pastel orange Converse sneaker.

                “Connie!”

                At once, they glided down, down. So far down they thought it was underground. But the only thought that stuck in their heads was Where is Connie?

                Down, down, down, they went, Larry in the lead. At last they uhh…. found the “end””.

                “Awesome! Now we can just find Connie and get outta here! I don’t want to miss pickle night.” Larry exclaimed.

                “Whoa, hold on hungry bob…. How do you stop this thing?!?!”

                “Umm…. AHHHHH!”

                Larry skidded, and stubbed his toe. Hopping in pain, he was only tripped again by Gilda slipping through his legs.

                “Alright, so… what were we doing?! GET UP LARRY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING LAYING DOWN LIKE A LAZY PIG?!”

                “I’ve got a cut!”

                “Well go get a band-aid from your sport sack, dude. Be a man!”

                They started to enter the hole that Larry had stubbed his toe on. As soon as they stepped foot inside the mucky hole a drip-drip and a HUGE rumble served them a scary face and the side of the heebee jeebees. Dessert was a mud pie, gushy and soft.

                They ignored these sounds and trudged on through the thick muck. A loud echo rang in their ears; they thought they had heard it before.

                “What? OH! oday ouyay peaksay glishenay?” The voice said.

                “OF COURSE; young lady. Let me introduce you to Lord Burr-……” Another voice called.

                “Gosh! It’s Connie! Let’s go find her!”

                Splashing through the mud, waving at the cobwebs, at last they saw dry land and an opening where the voices grew clearer. As they approached the passageway, they heard a whiny voice chanting, I WANT A PICKLE YOU THING!!

                At this, 2 siblings charged in and attempted to snatch Connie’s hand.

                “HALT OUTSIDER.”

                Ten sharp bony spears crowded around Gilda’s neck.

                “Call in Soda Soufflé. Let him decide to do with this girl.”

                The spears went down, but still ready to strike.

                An odd shadow walked toward Gilda. It was hard to make out what or who he or she was in the dimness of the tree, but you could tell that. He spoke to the rest of his clan in what seemed like Pig Latin.

                He pressed a sharp spear into her neck. “Tell me, girl, where can I find pickle for Lord Burrito Bansickle? If you not tell me, you going to be fed to….. The Almas.”

                Yeesh! What’s with the creepy guy? Who is the Almas anyway?

                He pressed the spear point harder until she shed one drop of blood.

                “Now. TELL ME.”

                “Oday otnay urthay ymay istersay! Iay hinktay ymay rotherbay ashay omesay icklespay!” Connie panicked.

                In translation, she tried to say ‘Do not hurt my sister. I think my brother has some pickles! The “people” only got the “Pickles” part!

                “What???! Give; NOW!!!” bellowed Lord Burrito Bansickle.

                “Larry?! Give them your pickles, or we’re getting outta here as roast beef!”

                “Fine, Yeesh…..”

                He took out a finely polished jar of pickles. It had a shiny red cap. Inside, the pickles were assorted. Some rare and some fair, some small, some big, fat, skinny, they were all there.

                “What zis…” the Lord muttered.

                “This, would be a pickle, dude!”

                Larry took out an orange handkerchief and opened the fancy jar. He presented a pair of tweezers, and carefully drew out a medium sized fat pickle of the jar. He was much prepared, and pulled out a small wooden slab and a cheese knife out of his silver drawstring sports sack. He began cutting the pickles in thin professional slices. Larry brought it over to the Lord who began sniffing the pickles.

                “This? I eat!”

                He took a plastic fork from Larry’s hand and stabbed a pickle slice, hesitated, then wolfed it down a blink of an eye.

                ”Do you really keep all this stuff in there?” Gilda whispered.

                Larry nodded vigorously. He switched his attention to Lord Burrito Bansickle. A hopeful look spread across his face as the Lord chewed another slice.

                Gilda grabbed out her purple phone. She began typing a description at the speed of light.

the lord thing a mo bobber:

looks like a burrito lol:)

bug eyes lol

weird mouth dripping with pickle juice lol/eww

lol accent

                Then she posted it on her notes. then the screen flashed. Her phone had a habit of searching up everything she typed on reminders on Google, so the screen said: Lord burrito Bansickle?? ??

                Whoa… he’s famous?

                The screen listed the most informational sites. The first one was a poem by a teenager, and it was hard to read.

lord burrito Bansickle lol

never hadda pickle

He hated donuts

that burrito Bansickle lol :):)

                The screen flashed again and said in bold words, Almas. The most feared creature on earth. Many scientists have found a hollow tree trunk and explored, but never returned.

                What’s this got to do with it??? Oh yeah, the soda can guy said something about it.

                Connie was watching Lord Burrito Bansickle gobble down every, precious, pickle in Larry’s jar. She felt sorry for her brother. He was a pickle FREAK. Lord Burrito enjoyed this moment of slurping, licking and crunching the various pickles. Larry wore a concerned face that read, Please, not ALL of them…

                Gilda was typing something on Google in the search button of images. She typed: Lord Burrito Bansickle. Even though they were, like, right in front of him, she could not see his terrible pickle juice showered face in the dark tree trunk. Once the phone had loaded the images, she glanced at them one by one.

                Oh eww…. yechh… disgusting!

                It was his “internal Organs” aka the cheese and tomatoes and sour cream, the inside of a normal burrito, little bits tumbling down the side of his tortilla skin.

                Why has he not had a pickle before, I mean, they’re always on sale at stores….

                Then, when they looked up from their distractions, the three children simultaneously thought the same thing. Let’s get out of here before the burrito man finishes eating and kills us….

                Larry quickly bid a farewell to his delicious pickles. They kids glanced back one last time, seeing the thing was nearly finished the pickles. They stripped their feet down to the skin and began climbing the steep tree trunk. Their feet were as silent as mice, sweaty feet only squeaking once or twice when they slid down an inch or two on the hard slippery oak wood. They trembled as they climbed to the top. Without looking they all leaped down the tall tree, having enough time to slip on their flip-flops and sneakers. They landed with a crash among pointy twigs and some acorns. Although they had a scratch or two from the sharp twigs, they stood up with a confused look like, What just happened?

                The tripelets walked home in time to see the glorious sunset of rainbow, excluding green. They walked down the sturdy sidewalk that wound up to their house, happy to be walking horizontally again. Before they knew it, they sky faded to a navy blue shade and stars sparkled among it. They stared up, and if you looked hard enough, you see the words Lord Burrito Bansickle printed by the stars. Larry giggled and said, “It’s Pickle Day! I forgot!” and pulled out a plastic bag with a pickle. The girls could not believe their eyes when they that Larry had saved a pickle! They continued their walk home and once they arrived, they saw their Angora kitten perched on the counter, next to a plate of burritos.

                Their mother said, “Hi, where have you been? Tonight is pickle night, but I was going to surprise you by making…… BURRITOS! And pickles!” They each gave a shriek and traded looks of relief (that it didn’t eat pickles), and soon the delicious burritos vanished in an instant.

                “Goodness, why are you 3 eating so fast? What wore you out this afternoon?”

                “Umm…… We ran??”

                “Well, I’m glad you’ve remembered to exercise today!”

                And as they waited for their Aunt Jenne in the morning, they plopped down onto the sofa and watched the movie, The Invasion of the Food People: Lord Burrito Bansickle and had the perfect snack food, PICKLES!!

   THE END

The Sniper Rifle War

Joe was in a tunnel then Bob came and Joe said “Don’t go out here.”

Then the Bob said “Why?”

“There is a sniper on the roof.”

“Which gun?”

“A balloon gun, what did you think it’s a sniper rifle.”

“Well you don’t when–.” Then a shot landed under his foot and stepped back.

“Sounds like an Air Force” said Joe.

“What are we going to do?”said Bob.

“Let’s go at the same time and one of us has to nail him. Ok. Charge!!!” Then Joe went out and got hit. He came back and said “Why did you not come with me?”

“Lagged.” Said Bob.

“Ok let’s do it again… Charge!!!” Then Joe went out again and got hit. He came back and said “What is it this time.”

“Somebody knocked on my door.” That Bob.

“Come on.”

“How can I go when we don’t count to three?”

“Hey, when did I bring that up?”

“How should I know when you are going to say CHARGE!!!!”

Joe sighed “Ok. One, two, THREE!!!” Then Joe went out again and got hit. He came back and said “Come on what is it now.”

“My computer froze. “said Bob.

“Ok you did the counting.”

“Why, you got it down.”

“Just count.”

“Ok. One … Two … Three!”

Then Joe went out again and got hit. Then the Bob sniped the enemy. Joe came back and Bob said “Nailed him.” Then Joe was shooting him “Dude friendly fire is off.” Said Bob

“I hate you.” said Joe and got sniped again. Then Bob aimed and killed the enemy again.

Fablehaven:Fall of the Shadow Beings chapter two (continued)

Sorceresses and Monsters

“All right Kendra, Vanessa and Raxtus. We have a pretty good team put together here but even so, we need to be alert at every moment. The Hall of Whispers will very likely be the hardest place we ever encountered. The entities in there will very likely radiate magical fear so I need all of you to drink this potion for me. Tanu made it for the Wymroost trip.” added Braken hastily.                                                                                                                                                                                                                When everybody finished their potion, they mounted on Raxtus.                                 “I would like to have Kendra keep her hand on me since there is such a long journey ahead of us.” muttered Raxtus.                                                                          Kendra obeyed immediately. No sooner that two minutes in air Braken shouted over the wind ” Three griffins Raxtus! The one one the bottom  is trying to cut of a dive. If you drop me right now can you catch me later?”                                             “So you want to use the strategy Warren used before with the harpies right?” clarified Raxtus.                                                                                                                                    ” Exactly! Vanessa hand me the sword now.”                                                                Vanessa gave Braken the sword and at that exact moment Raxtus let go of Braken. Braken whistled through the air while Kendra clutched her face so hard that you could see nail marks on her face. Suddenly, she heard a loud screech. Braken had hacked of a wing of one of the griffins and one of the griffins on top was zooming toward them at 75 miles per hour. Raxtus spiraled down and caught up with Braken right before the impact with the ground. Kendra sighed with reileif.                                                                                                                                                       “You okay Braken?” questioned Kendra with concern in her voice.                   “Good as new. In fact Raxtus should be setting us down at any moment now to intercept the griffens. He wants us safely out of harm’s way but I’m going to charge at that griffen that I sliced the wing off of. Got the plan? Right. Wait for it Raxtus……..wait…….and now! Drop us!”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            Raxtus dropped his passengers and swooped to engage in combat with his feathery opponents. The griffins dived and spiraled gracefully pecking Raxtus from behind. They were involved in this dangerous dance until Raxtus, faking to be ever so concentrated on one griffin swiped his tail and one griffin was out of the picture. Unfortunately, the battle one the ground wasn’t going that well. Bracken had knew from his two thousand years of experience that griffins have a hard time turning and when they do turn they turn jerkily like a puppet with half it’s strings cut. But this griffin was a different story, every move Bracken did was perfectly blocked like if this griffin had been prepared for combat. Bracken was tiring and the enemy was showing no signs of weakness. Then Kendra saw why. There was a wizard, a female wizard that was chanting empowering the griffins even more. She was standing on a high rock near a cliff. Kendra clenched her teeth. She was probably going to have to sacrifice herself in order for this to succeed. Lost in thoughts, Kendra jumped as a arrow whistled by her ear missing Kendra by a fraction of an inch. She had forgotten Vanessa was there to help her.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   “Vanessa!” shouted Kendra.                                                                                                     Now it was Vanessa’s turn to jump. She turned and exclaimed”Kendra!” Kendra pointed at the cliff and Vanessa now saw the real problem. She unsheathed her sword and tossed her bow and arrow set to Kendra who caught it and slung it over her shoulder. Vanessa quickly motioned to Bracken and Raxtus who both understood now. Then Vanessa beckoned for Kendra to come with her. The crept along the edge of the cliff always staying hidden. Vanessa whispered “Shoot now!”                                                                                                                                       To late. The sorceress turned her eyes widening and hesitating no more, she began another spell, a different one this time. As she chanted, the sorceress rose into the air encased to a golden sphere shimmering with magic the it popped into and blue glittering ball of power and the sorceress directed it to Vanessa and Kendra, her mouth twisting into a evil smile.                                                                          “Run!” mouthed Vanessa” I’ll take care of this.”                                                                     Instead of running, Kendra snuck behind the sorceress and threw her sword with deadly accuracy. But who knew the sorceress had the Sands of Sanctity? The sorceress laughed without humor.                                                                                                “I am Natacionda! You will never win a direct fight against me!”                                 “You’re right! We will never win a fight against Natacionda! So Raxtus, leave the griffins and lets get out of ………………”                                                                                        Whack! Miss “I’m so magical” Natacionda threw the shimmering ball at Vanessa. Even so, Raxtus carried all the passengers out to sea including Natacionda. But Natacionda was a special case. Raxtus spiraled higher and higher and higher to make her dizzy so she couldn’t work any magic. Then, SPLASH! Raxtus dropped Natacionda while she wailed and cursed at everybody on Raxtus’s ride.

Kendra looked at the Hall of Whispers. There was no opening, anywhere. That’s when she spotted something. A little hole. Kendra called everyone over. Bracken examined the hole while Vanessa stared blankly at the wall.                           Suddenly she shouted” I know! Look at the bricks right here. They all have black on the edge of them and these bricks make a arch…………..”So there must be a round key somewhere to open this doorway.” Kendra completed the sentence for Vanessa .                                                                                                                                             “Exactly!” beamed Vanessa ” Who knew that now we are going key hunting?

“The key”Kendra remarked”must be some kind of round cylinder. But who has a guess on what it’s made of? We passed a pile of cylinders on the way here………..” Suddenly a inscription appeared-Either pass or die that will be determined on your first key try.                                                                                                                                 “That means we try one key and we will either pass or die”Braken said.                     ” We will be  looking for a key that’s silver like the roof .” Raxtus said from up above them.                                                                                                                                           “Wait Raxtus.”Kendra said” we can’t find the key the normal way as most people have done it. They’ve probably looked in the key pile but that can’t be right because the key wouldn’t let itself be so easy to find. Take me up on that roof and we’ll split up and search.”                                                                                                          Vanessa cleared her throat”Ummm, maybe I should do it in case there are dangers up there.”                                                                                                                                “Don’t fret Vanessa. Relax. Nothing can go wrong with Raxtus up there.” soothed Bracken.                                                                                                                                  Raxtus picked Kendra up and flew up and started to laugh.                                               “I am not your meek little friend Raxtus! I am the guardian of the key! I am able to take shape of the first animal that flies up here.”                                                             ” Raxtus is immobilized! The key is up here too.”shouted Kendra.                                 She bit the duplicate of Raxtus with all her might.                                                                “Oweeee!” screeched the fake Raxtus.                                                                                         He dropped her right above the key. Kendra grabbed the key and threw it to Vanessa. Bracken caught the key and inserted into the key hole. A hole appeared in the roof where Kendra was. Before she fell into the hole though she saw that Raxtus was able to fly away as the monster crumbled to dust. Then as Kendra reached for the crumbling roof, darkness engulfed her.

To be continued……………………….

New Kidnappers in the House part 3

We had our worst class, geography. I never had a clue on what they were talking about.

“Test everyone,” said Mrs. Curium.

What? Test? Crud. I haven’t studied since two months ago. My heart beat really fast, faster than it had before. I closed my eyes making sure I wasn’t dreaming. I opened them and guess what happened, it was real, still. I sat staring at my paper. Good thing it was multiple choice. I didn’t know what to do. I tried this pattern called the ABCDCBABCDCBABCDCBA pattern.

When Mrs. Curium graded all the tests, we all got them back and saw our scores. Total FAIL! I got a F, twenty-four percent. I tore it in half, smashed it into a ball, and hurled it wildly in the trash. My anger boiled in my stomach. I marched back to my desk head looking down and fists ready to punch someone into the dump.

“Is something wrong?” asked Mrs. Curium.

“No,” I said softly.

I felt like punching her hard metal face. Better than getting too much anger, I thought. I slammed my fist at her metallic face. BAM! SKADOOSH! KABOOM! I heard my fist go. Mrs. Curium had a dent at the top of her head. I put my hands over my mouth. She stood up, opened her mouth and said, “Go to the principal’s office NOW!” I stood up went out the door and thought, that was fun. I ran down to the principal’s office and then my partner ran up to me looking panicked. “Radon, bad news, I was just walking down spying on the principal. A new staff member came in and put a letter on Mr. Fakey’s lap. I tried to sneak and peek but I was too late, he caught me. And now I’m suspended for a week,” he said.

“So, you don’t have to do all the tests and do all the reading, math, geography, and all those other subjects,” I replied.

“ Yeah, but they won’t even let me work with you on this case we have now,” he said.

“What!?” I replied.

“I know right?” he said sadly.

“Okay then I’ll just have to tackle this case myself,” I said confidently.

“But Radon” he started.

“No buts I’ll do it myself and that’s that,” I interrupted.

“Fine,” he said as his eyes drooped down.

“Now go on to your easy life watching T.V., Playing video games all day and night, and most awesomely, getting to do whatever you want,” I said.

He trudged out the wooden door back home as I headed back to class.

I walked down to class as Mrs. Curium said, “Open your science books to page fifty-four class.”

I took out my science book and opened it.

“Today, we will be talking about protons, electrons, and neutrons inside our bodies,” said Mrs. Curium.

Boring, I thought to myself. Wish we could study something better like maybe . . . electric or fire. I heard her talk about how we all have atomic numbers and each of them are different. I have eighty-six.

“Now class, you might think this is weird or why do we have numbers but I’ll answer why you all have numbers. Your numbers are how many protons and electrons you have in your body, okay,” said Mrs. Curium.

I raised my hand.

“Yes Radon.”

“If we have numbers for electrons and protons, then why don’t we have numbers for neutrons?” I asked.

“Good question Radon ‘cause that’s what I’ll tell you about next,” Mrs. Curium started. “You all have atomic weights as well. An atomic weight is not how many neutrons you have class. When you do something like umm . . . this (s=atomic number n=atomic weight) s-n= would equal to how many neutrons you have, so s-n= number of neutrons inside your body,” she answered. “Now I will tell you your atomic weights,” she said.

I got number two hundred twenty-four. I subtracted. I have one hundred forty-six neutrons. I checked dang I always get it wrong the first time one hundred thirty-six not forty-six.

I turned around, another paper airplane I opened it. It said, Deer, Raidon Bring over da muney or els theans wil git derty. Sinseerlee, da kidnapers.

It already feels dirty to me and when will these villains learn proper grammar? Better start snoopin’ now or we’re not gonna get any further. Time to snoop big time.

Movie Report x3

On March 20th, My mom and sister and I went to Palazzo 16 to watch a movie. or movies. I watched Gnomeo and Juliet, which was a huge comedy. So there are these two gnomes, each on a different side, red and blue. They’re at war, and the only way to win is by beating the other team with lawnmowers as races. The 2 gnomes a boy and a girl, well, that turns into Gnomeo and Juliet. My mom watched Lincoln Lawyer, (R) and my sister watched Red riding Hood (PG-13). At the end of my movie, I immediately exited the theatre and went to my sister’s theatre to watch a little Red Riding hood, cuz it was still on. (You are allowed to do this.) I found my sister’s seat and sat with her until it was over. But my mom’s movie was still on. So we went and peeked the rest of I Am Number Four. These Movies Are EPIC! PS……. Who wants to watch Hop? Ooooohhhh, ME ME ME ME!!

Last Math Olympiad Test – March 21, 7pm

This might be the last chance for the Shiny Gems Math Club to be together!

Does anyone want to get together again after this test?

Pictures

Ok, I’ve got the pictures from my fishing experience. Wanna see them? Here they are:

Sorry I didn’t really get a good view of the fish; the sun was in my eyes and I couldn’t really see the DS screen. Plus, this fish would only flip around to show you his belly.

These are three views of a weird rock.

This is the dam and the red dot is my dad fishing.

Look at these rocks!

This was our view from on top of the bridge/dam on the other side. Here are more pictures:

Like the view?

Look at this flat rock!

Do you like these?

Those were the good pictures I took on the DSi. If you like them, let me know!


Cheddar Moon – Chapters 1-4

Cheddar Moon – Chapter 1 

       I have a story to tell you, young readers. This is a long story, one that occurred when I was a mouse your age. It has been a very long time, so I might not remember everything. But if you listen carefully and quietly, I will tell you about the time when the moon really was made out of cheese.

       In the olden days, it was easy for us to live. There were few humans to disturb us, and they left us in peace. We built our homes out of old wood strips, and shredded fabric was used for bedding. Every home was large enough to hold ten mice, but discreet and small enough to be hidden from passing humans. We spent much of our time indoors, taking care of siblings, gathering fabric to shred for bedding.

       One day, I decided to explore the great outdoors. I had heard from family members that everything was different.

       “It’s dangerous, you know,” my sister said. “You never know what’s out there!”

       Shrugging off her concerns, I prepared to leave, packing a bag full of food, wood strips, and fabric in case I needed to shelter in an emergency or lost my way. For the rest of the day, I was extremely restless, eager to get outside. I tried to pretend everything was the same, trying to keep a nonchalant attitude. My strategy didn’t work.

      “You’re awfully quiet tonight,” my mother remarked as she passed me a bowl of soup. “It’s minced morsel stew, your favorite, and you haven’t said a word!”

       “Yes,” my father added. “Is something wrong? Is there anything troubling you? If so, you can always ask your mother and I for advice.”

       “No, it’s fine. Everything’s okay. I guess I’m just tired,” I say, hoping the conversation will end soon.

       “Charles has been thinking about-!” I cut my sister off with a warning glare.

       “Thinking about what, darling?” my mother intervenes.

       “I-I didn’t really mean that,” my sister says. “I think we should all sleep early tonight. We all seem tired.” Kayla lowers her gaze, picking up her spoon, gesturing to everyone to do the same.

       “Let’s eat!” my mother says, rubbing her hands together. “The stew’s getting cold. Charles, if you’re not going to eat that, dump it back in the cooking pot. Otherwise, stop playing with your food and eat a decent meal.”

       I decide to leave the dinner table, and brush my teeth for bed. However, I don’t sleep. I spend my time planning my escape into the outdoors world. Hours pass. Night falls. I hear Kayla come upstairs, stepping softly, trying not to “wake” me. She tucks my blankets more firmly around me then closes the door and leaves.

       I wait three long, excruciating hours in bed, until the clock chimes. Midnight. I know Mother and Father must be asleep, but I stand up to check. Pressing my ear to the door, I listen. Not a single squeak. I grab my bag, check my inventory, then scribble a note to my parents telling them of my decision to explore the outside world. I stick the note to my bedroom door, and creep down the stairs, silent as a shadow. I am looking back at my home for the last time. I turn around, my hand firmly around the doorknob. I am turning the cold, smooth handle when-

       “Charles!” my father’s voice comes to me. I start, my hand releasing the doorknob. My father comes racing down the stairs, stumbling and tripping on the last four in his haste to reach me. “Wait, son! Don’t go!”

       “Father?” I say, my confusion evident. “How did you know I was leaving tonight?” Suddenly, I realize. “Kayla! She told!”

       “Yes, she did, Charles. And she did so for good measure. Kayla didn’t want you to go alone. We arranged a way to help you during dinner,” he says calmly.

       “But you can’t stop me from going on the adventure of my life, Father! I’ve been dreaming of it! Besides, you and Mother can manage without me just the same. Kayla can cook, and Sarah can sew! You don’t need me here!” I protest, whiskers twitching in frustration.

       A sad expression crosses his face. “Charles, I don’t want you to go alone. You’re my only son. Just let me go with you,” he says.

       “No, Father. I’m sorry, but this is my mission. I promise to return as soon as possible. I just don’t want to leave Mother with Kayla, Sarah, and Baby Nellie to take care of. Please let me go alone. Please!” I beg, awaiting his decision.

       We stand in silence, until Father straightens, opening the door. “Good luck, Charles,” he says, “and I wish you the best on your journey.”

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 shade 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.

Cheddar Moon – Chapter 3

       After waking up from a long and luxurious rest, I stretched, twitching my whiskers and waving my tail. My muscles felt very tense and sore, and I was unwilling to get up. I was unaccustomed to the hard, rigidness of the ground I slept on, and I longed for my warm, dry bed at home. My bed at home had been lined with the softest, smoothest fabric my mother could find, and it was always fresh and clean. My makeshift bed of fabric strips was meager in comparison, and it was wet with morning dew. Undaunted, I laid the fabric strips onto the dry bark of my wagon, hoping it would dry throughout the day.

       Shaking the sticky dew drops off my ears, I picked a dandelion stem to eat for breakfast, but the stem was too tall and slick for me to hold. It blocked my vision, and I ran into the maple tree. A piece of bark fell, opening a hole in my new shirt. I realized it was time for a change. I decided to spend one whole week under my maple tree shelter, patching clothing, gathering food, and doing other miscellaneous activities. I wanted to gather food, but my clothing was in need of repair, so I decided to patch my shirt in the bright daylight, and I could use the dim light of the night to gather food. That way, I could make use of my time while staying safe under the cover of night.

       I grabbed a clean, white shirt from my wagon, ducked behind the tree to change, and emerged with the torn shirt in my paws. My day of sewing was about to begin.

       I had never been good at sewing – that was always what Sarah had loved to do. My younger sister would happily patch clothing while I gathered food and materials for the family. I never had time to watch her sew and mend, so it didn’t surprise me that I was clueless right now. However, I was spared the trouble by the surfacing of a distant memory. In the memory, I was watching my mother sew, her furry paws warm and soft from hours of chores. She was mending a pair of overalls, and she was instructing me. “Charles,” she had said, “I know you don’t sew. But even if you do, some time in the future, you need to remember to always watch the needle and the fabric. You can’t let your eyes wander and stray or you could hurt yourself.”

       With the memory fresh in my mind, I set to work. Grabbing some tough weeds and grass, I tore the grass into thin shreds. I had found a human-sized needle, and I worked the shredded grass into the hole of the needle. The job was a lot harder than I thought. The needle was too big, so I had to hold it with two paws. It took me the entire day to patch the paw-sized hole, but it was better than nothing. Only until I had finished did I realize how hungry I had been. I had been concentrating so hard that I forgot to eat lunch! Oh, well. I guess I’d transition straight to dinner!

       For dinner, I ate the leftovers of the dandelion stem I had eaten this morning. The plant was delicious, and it satisfied my hunger and thirst. Sitting on my favorite tree branch, I reflected on my day. I realized that this was the life I had always wanted, one where I could explore and figure things out for myself. I enjoyed my new independence, and I wanted to make it last. Watching the sun set, I could form only one thought in my mind. Nature has given us many gifts in life – my gift is the ability to explore and enjoy life in a completely different perspective.

Cheddar Moon – Chapter 4

       My week of preparation had passed. Everything had gone smoothly, and I knew I would have no trouble. I had made a solid wooden shield for myself if I needed self-defense from other animals, and I had gathered enough food to eat for one month! I was proud of my hard work, and ready to begin my long journey at last. I ate some homemade candied dandelion stems for breakfast, oiled my wagon with a strong-smelling liquid called Coca-Cola, grabbed a hand-stitched backpack, and began walking. I found an enormous, worn-out compass in a garbage disposal, and I rolled it on the ground when I walked.

       My goal was to hike three miles today, but I don’t think that will be happening anytime soon. So far, I’ve only gone about one-fifth of a mile, and it’s taken me five hours to do so! Well, don’t call me a slowpoke, will you? Don’t forget that I am several times smaller than you are! True, mice can scamper and run really fast, which compensates for our small body size, but it’s not very easy to run with a month’s supply of food stocked on your wagon, a backpack on your back, and a wagon that is rusting because you oiled it with Coca-Cola! Enough said; it’s time for lunch.

       The salted tree bark I had packed in bulk turned out to be very nutritious and filling, and the candied dandelion stems made a very sweet and tasty dessert. I drank some groundwater from an oak tree, filled my water canteen with the same groundwater, groomed myself, and continued walking again.

       It was at this part of my journey that I met up with trouble. If you want to guess, I’ll give you a chance. Okay. So, what are two things that a mouse can’t do? Okay, flying definitely counts. No, mice are extremely good at hiding. How could you not know that? Another answer, please? That’s right – swimming.

       I had been walking along, my backpack bouncing on my back, and the wagon creaking and squeaking along on the rough and gravelly dirt road behind me. In my left hand was a map, and I held a long, sharp stick to help me walk on hilly trails. The road wasn’t smooth like the roads back home; instead, it had many sharp, jagged stones. The road was coarse and rough, and my bare feet were aching with pain. I had been looking down the whole time to ensure I didn’t step on any rocks, and I was beginning to feel dizzy, and my neck had started cramping. Looking up, everything seemed to sway. The trees around me, the tall, enormous buildings, even the ground. I immediately dropped my bags and sat down until the wave of nausea passed.

       I was thankful to get a minute’s rest to recuperate from the tiring day and my dizziness. I hadn’t rested for several hours, and I was feeling faint with hunger and thirst. Reaching for my water canteen, which was located in a secret compartment in my rusty wagon, I let out an involuntary gasp. I had not been aware of my surroundings before, and now I noticed them for the first time. Three feet away from me lay the largest, deepest canyon I had ever seen! Do you know how large it was? The canyon was about five feet deep – hey, that’s not funny! You do realize I’m a mouse, right? Trust me – I’m not making excuses! If you’ve ever seen a mouse, you would realize how scary a five-foot drop would be! Well, if you’re still not convinced, visualize it as a canyon two stories deep!

       For the first time since I started this long journey, I felt afraid. At the bottom of the canyon, there was a huge pool of dirty, litter-filled water. If it weren’t for the fact that the canyon was so deep, and the water was filled with bits and pieces of shattered glass, rusted metal, and other debris, I might have had a chance to jump down, using some scrap tree bark as a raft.

      I peered down, cautiously, to search for any humans or wild animals hiding in the canyon. From where I stood, I could only see the middle of the canyon; I was oblivious to the walls and sides. I desperately needed a closer look.

       I tried tiptoeing to the edge of the canyon, stepping ever so carefully; I was afraid to move my arms for fear that they would throw me off balance and send me tumbling to my death in the heart of the canyon. Moving my foot just one inch was difficult. I broke out in a cold sweat, and my hands were wet with moisture. I held my arms like a scarecrow, and I was walking stiff-legged, much like a zombie. I held my breath, looked down at the walls of the canyon, and – nothing happened. I ran back to my wagon as fast as I could, tripping over small pebbles on the ground. I collapsed on my backpack, my chest heaving with the breaths that had been waiting to be breathed.

       Laying on my backpack for what seemed like forever, I finally mustered the courage to stand up, eat dinner, and lay out the shredded fabric for bedding. Raising my head, which had been buried in the backpack the whole time, I was shocked. How could time pass by so quickly? When I had arrived, the sky was a clear, cloudless blue, and the sun was shining in the sky. A gentle breeze ruffled the green leaves on the trees, and birds were chirping and singing to one another.

       Now, the sky was a magnificent violet-purple, tinged with stripes of gold and ribbons of peachy pink. The sun was lowered to the horizon, a dim, auburn semi-circle. It was now sunset, and there were only faint birdcalls to interrupt the silence of the evening. A light wind made the lush carpet of grass sway and dance, ruffling my pristine white shirt and messing up my whiskers.

       As I lay flat on my back on the makeshift, shredded fabric bed, I watched the beautiful, glorious sunset until fatigue and exhaustion overcame me like a wave and I fell asleep.

Cheddar Moon – Chapter 4

My week of preparation had passed. Everything had gone smoothly, and I knew I would have no trouble. I had made a solid wooden shield for myself if I needed self-defense from other animals, and I had gathered enough food to eat for one month! I was proud of my hard work, and ready to begin my long journey at last. I ate some homemade candied dandelion stems for breakfast, oiled my wagon with a strong-smelling liquid called Coca-Cola, grabbed a hand-stitched backpack, and began walking. I found an enormous, worn-out compass in a garbage disposal, and I rolled it on the ground when I walked.

My goal was to hike three miles today, but I don’t think that will be happening anytime soon. So far, I’ve only gone about one-fifth of a mile, and it’s taken me five hours to do so! Well, don’t call me a slowpoke, will you? Don’t forget that I am several times smaller than you are! True, mice can scamper and run really fast, which compensates for our small body size, but it’s not very easy to run with a month’s supply of food stocked on your wagon, a backpack on your back, and a wagon that is rusting because you oiled it with Coca-Cola! Enough said; it’s time for lunch.

The salted tree bark I had packed in bulk turned out to be very nutritious and filling, and the candied dandelion stems made a very sweet and tasty dessert. I drank some groundwater from an oak tree, filled my water canteen with the same groundwater, groomed myself, and continued walking again.

It was at this part of my journey that I met up with trouble. If you want to guess, I’ll give you a chance. Okay. So, what are two things that a mouse can’t do? Okay, flying definitely counts. No, mice are extremely good at hiding. How could you not know that? Another answer, please? That’s right – swimming.

I had been walking along, my backpack bouncing on my back, and the wagon creaking and squeaking along on the rough and gravelly dirt road behind me. In my left hand was a map, and I held a long, sharp stick to help me walk on hilly trails. The road wasn’t smooth like the roads back home; instead, it had many sharp, jagged stones. The road was coarse and rough, and my bare feet were aching with pain. I had been looking down the whole time to ensure I didn’t step on any rocks, and I was beginning to feel dizzy, and my neck had started cramping. Looking up, everything seemed to sway. The trees around me, the tall, enormous buildings, even the ground. I immediately dropped my bags and sat down until the wave of nausea passed.

I was thankful to get a minute’s rest to recuperate from the tiring day and my dizziness. I hadn’t rested for several hours, and I was feeling faint with hunger and thirst. Reaching for my water canteen, which was located in a secret compartment in my rusty wagon, I let out an involuntary gasp. I had not been aware of my surroundings before, and now I noticed them for the first time. Three feet away from me lay the largest, deepest canyon I had ever seen! Do you know how large it was? The canyon was about five feet deep – hey, that’s not funny! You do realize I’m a mouse, right? Trust me – I’m not making excuses! If you’ve ever seen a mouse, you would realize how scary a five-foot drop would be! Well, if you’re still not convinced, visualize it as a canyon two stories deep!

For the first time since I started this long journey, I felt afraid. At the bottom of the canyon, there was a huge pool of dirty, litter-filled water. If it weren’t for the fact that the canyon was so deep, and the water was filled with bits and pieces of shattered glass, rusted metal, and other debris, I might have had a chance to jump down, using some scrap tree bark as a raft.

I peered down, cautiously, to search for any humans or wild animals hiding in the canyon. From where I stood, I could only see the middle of the canyon; I was oblivious to the walls and sides. I desperately needed a closer look.

I tried tiptoeing to the edge of the canyon, stepping ever so carefully; I was afraid to move my arms for fear that they would throw me off balance and send me tumbling to my death in the heart of the canyon. Moving my foot just one inch was difficult. I broke out in a cold sweat, and my hands were wet with moisture. I held my arms like a scarecrow, and I was walking stiff-legged, much like a zombie. I held my breath, looked down at the walls of the canyon, and – nothing happened. I ran back to my wagon as fast as I could, tripping over small pebbles on the ground. I collapsed on my backpack, my chest heaving with the breaths that had been waiting to be breathed.

Laying on my backpack for what seemed like forever, I finally mustered the courage to stand up, eat dinner, and lay out the shredded fabric for bedding. Raising my head, which had been buried in the backpack the whole time, I was shocked. How could time pass by so quickly? When I had arrived, the sky was a clear, cloudless blue, and the sun was shining in the sky. A gentle breeze ruffled the green leaves on the trees, and birds were chirping and singing to one another.

Now, the sky was a magnificent violet-purple, tinged with stripes of gold and ribbons of peachy pink. The sun was lowered to the horizon, a dim, auburn semi-circle. It was now sunset, and there were only faint birdcalls to interrupt the silence of the evening. A light wind made the lush carpet of grass sway and dance, ruffling my pristine white shirt and messing up my whiskers.

As I lay flat on my back on the makeshift, shredded fabric bed, I watched the beautiful, glorious sunset until fatigue and exhaustion overcame me like a wave and I fell asleep.

the world DOWN BELOW4

        Connie was watching Lord Burrito Bansickle gobble down every, precious, pickle in Larry’s jar. She felt sorry for her brother. he was a pickle FREAK.

       Lord Burrito enjoyed this moment of slurping, licking and cruching the various pickles. Larry wore a concerned face that read,  Please, not ALL of them…

        Gilda was typing something on Google in the search button of images. She typed: Lord Burrito bansickle. Even though they were, like, right in front of him, she could not she his terrible pickle juice showered face in the dark tree trunk.

       Once the phone had loaded the images, she glanced at them one by one.

       Oh eww…. yechh… disgusting!

       It was his “internal Organs” aka the cheese and tomatoes and sourcream, the inside of a normal burrito.

        Why has he not had a pickle before, I mean, they’re always on sale at Hy-Vee….

American Idol Quiz

Hi! If like American Idol, please try and answer these questions.

1. Who was the 2009 winner of American Idol?

A. Kris Allen

B. Adam Lambert

C. David Cook

D. Jonny Cash

2. Who are this year’s judges?

A. Simon, Paula, Kara, and Randy

B. Simon, Paula, and Randy

C. Jennifer Lopez, Steven Tyler, and Randy

D. None of the above

3. What kind of sickness does Lauren Alaina have this week?

A. Flu

B. Cold

C. Fever

D. None of the above

4. Who was in this week’s bottom three?

A. Paul, James, Karen

B. Haley, Naima, thia

C. Karen, Stephano, Haley

D. Karen, Thia, Haley

5. Who was voted off this week, 3/17/11?

A. Karen

B. Haley

C. Thia

D. Paul

Word After Word After Word – Chapter 3

   The class was quiet – no coughing, no rustling of papers – at the sight of Ms. Mirabel. She wore a bright pink jacket trimmed with what looked like feathers. She wore long earrings that had feathers, too. Maybe  she would fly around the room, words falling like bird droppings on all of us.

   “I am going to sit in the back today,” siad Miss Cash. “It will be Ms. Mirabel’s class. Think of her as your teacher. She will be visiting us for six weeks, sometimes on a daily basis. At times she’ll be in charge of the class. Sometimes I will be.”

   The windows were open, and the breeze rippled the feathers on Ms. Mirabels.

   “I’m going to read some things to you,” said Ms. Mirabel. “Words. Some I hope you will like. You may not like some of what I read. You don’t have to like everything.”

   We all looked at one another. Miss Cash had never told us we didn’t have to like the things she read. I looked quickly at Miss Cash, but her face was still and stony.

   “Some words may make you happy, some may make you sad. Maybe some will make you angry. What I hope” – a sudden gust of wind made Ms. Mirabel’s hair lift – “what I hope is that something will whisper in your ear.”

   “What does that mean?” asked Russell.

   Miss Cash sighed loud enough for me to hear. Russell always asked questions that made Miss Cash sigh.

   Ms. Mirabel didn’t sigh. She smiled brightly.

   “You will know,” she said.

   Surprisingly, Russell grinned back at Ms. Mirabel as if they had a secret pact. Quietly, Miss Cash got up and opened the door at the back of the rrom and was gone.

   Ms. Mirabel looked at us. “First, a place.”

   “The barn was very large. It was very old. It smelled of bay and it smelled of  manure. It smelled of the perspiration of tired horses and the wonderful sweet breath of patient cows.”

   “Charlotte’s Web”, someone whispered excitedly.

   “I knew that,” said Russell.

   “Now, a moment, a time, a place,” said Ms. Mirabel. 

   “The road that led to Treegap had been trod out long before by a herd of cows who were, to say the least, relaxed. It wandered along in curves and easy angles, swayed off and up in a pleasant tangent to the top of a small hill, ambled down again between fringes of bee-hung clover, and then cut sidewise across a meadow.”  

   “Characters,” said Ms. Mirabel. And she began to read.  

   “`Did Mama sing every day?’ asked Caleb. ‘Every-single-day?’ He sat close to the fire, his chin in his hand. It was dusk, and the dogs lay beside him on the warm hearthstones. 

   “`Every-single-day,’ I told him for the second time this week. For the twentieth time this month. The hundredth time this year? And the past few years? 

   “`And did Papa sing, too?’

   “Yes, Papa sang, too. Don’t get so close, Caleb. You’ll heat up.’

   “He pushed his chair back. It made a hollow scraping sound on the hearthstones, and the dogs stirred. Lottie, small and black, wagged her tail and lifted her head. Nick slept on.

   “I turned the bread dough over and over on the marble slab on the kitchen table.

   “`Well, Papa doesn’t sing anymore,’ said Caleb very softly.  

   I smiled. I knew that story. 

   “Now a memory,” said Ms. Mirabel.  

   “The memory is this: a blue blanket in a basket that pricks her bare legs, and the world turning over as she tumbles out. A flash of trees, sky, clouds, and the hard driveway of dirt and gravel. Then she is lifted up and up and held tight. Kind faces, she remembers, but that mighbe the later memory of her imagination. Still, when the memory comes, sometimes many times a night and in the day, the arms that hold her are always safe.”   

   Ms. Mirabel smiled. “And a poem,” she said.  

            “A nut 

                        My poem.

            When cracked you’ll find inside

                        Words

                        Whispers

                        People

                        Place

            That tuck in snugly to make

                        Story.”

   Ms. Mirabel read on and on, some things I’d heard before, some things I hadn’t. The breezes came in and around us like the words Ms. Mirabel spoke. No one moved, even when the bell rang for lunch.

   Ms. Mirabel stopped.

   “Maybe tomorrow some of you will bring your writing. You don’t have to read it if you don’t want to. I can read it for you. When we talk about it, we will be very kind. We will talk about what we like, and we will ask questions.”

   Ms. Mirabel waved her arm toward the door, her bird feathers rippling. “Go,” she said. 

   And we went.  

            Hollow boned

            Birds

            Sing!

            Until the sun falls down

            They tuck themselves under the

            Green leaves of trees

            And sleep until the sun calls

                        them to

            Sing again!

                                    ——- Henry

Fishing

On March 16th, yesterday, I went fishing with my dad, grandpa, grandma, and brother. The ride took about an hour and a half. When  we finally got there, my dad got out some chairs, bait, fishing rods, and a cooler. He set up a rod and put the minnow on as bait and then I started fishing. I waited and waited and waited and got……………………nothing. The view was spectacular though. There was a dam and water was gushing out of two very wide things. But the rest of the things were closed.  Soon I got bored and started playing with the bucket of minnows. What I did with the rod was I just leaned it against the wire fence. Then, my brother and I started climbing a miniature mountain of rocks. My grandpa was already at the top. We walked along a road  and   I went to the other side. It was a bridge. The view at the top……………..it’s awesome. There’s a grill way down and an island I think so far away that it’s very faint.  Sorry there aren’t any pictures, I took all of the super cool ones on our D.S.i. and I don’t think you can load pictures from the D.S.i. onto the computer. We went back down, and I checked the rod to see if it still had bait and it did so I kept playing around, walked, ate some chips, drank Gatorade, even skipped lunch! Later, my dad and grandma went down by the river edge to fish. I went down too, and then I went back up to get the bucket of minnows to bring it down to my dad and grandma. I checked on the rod again. It wouldn’t move. Hmmm, I thought. the hook probably got caught on something. But that’s not right. Dad would have gotten it free. So I pulled to check for the bait and then, I saw a fish mouth. I pulled even harder and the fish came into view. My brother was up there with me, so I told him to go down by the river’s edge to get our dad. He went and got my dad and grandpa. My grandpa held the fishing rod, my brother reeled it in, my dad lifted the line, and I watched. That fish was HUMONGUS! He was like an inch and a half thick,  about 11 or 12 inches long, and three, four, or five inches tall! The hook was stuck in his belly, and my dad had to use pliers to get it out! We put him in the cooler and filled it with water. We fished for a little more, and then we went home.

Grossology– the (impolite) study of the human body :)

If you’re going to St. Louis for vacation, I have a great place you to visit!! It is in Forest Park, St. Louis Science Center. You will most likely see signs about it that have fat red heads about to vomit, or an old man looking at a booger on his finger. Eww…………. Here are some picture to describe.

and the red head.

and old man.

But its not all about that! Its disgusting; really, but also fun. check out the rest of the museum too!! Hope you enjoy it!

A Restaurant Review – Aladdin Cafe

The Aladdin Café is a Mediterranean restaurant with the most flavorful, delicious food ever! While dining there, I ate the curry chicken, and it was AMAZING! It was so good! The curry was spicy, but it was just right, and the vegetables that came with the dish were appetizing.

For dessert, I ordered tiramisu. Oh, my gosh, it was the best I’ve ever tasted! Drizzled (well, poured) on top was this delicious, rich chocolate sauce, and I savored every drop of it. The actual tiramisu itself was just as good as the chocolate sauce, maybe a little better! The tiramisu melted in my mouth, and it had the impression of chocolaty mousse. When I ate it, it felt like I was eating a mixture of mousse and ice cream cake.

To complement my meal and dessert, I drank rose lemonade. It had a rather interesting taste. There was nothing special about it – it was just plain lemonade with shredded rose petals sprinkled daintily in the glass. I’d never tasted rose petals before, so a drink made with them was a nice way to sample them.

If you love Mediterranean and Middle Eastern food, you will love Aladdin Café. Their tiramisu and rose lemonade are some of the things you DEFINITELY have to order!

 Author’s Note: I bet you’re hungry now! 😀