Sunday Apple
Can you see a world outside your window waiting for something or someone to play in its fields or its pastures? I can. I can see fresh apples on the trees waiting to be picked. I can see thunder clouds with rain about to drop from their bottoms any minute from now. Hello, My name is Isabel. I am fourteen years old and I live in Arizona Woods, a house named by my great grandfather, Tony Woods. Beside our house, there is a small apple orchid with about twenty five apple trees with delicate red apples that dangle from its wonderful green spine. Right now I am getting out of bed on a crisp Sunday morning. Today is my day to pick apples. I check the time on the wall clock. 5 a.m. Still not to late. No one is out hunting yet. I grab my pocket knife and a fairly large basket big enough to fit about thirty apples ’round about. The storm door creeks open and closes soon after. Boom! I hear thunder. I have to hurry. I grab the short, splintery wooden ladder that once lay on brown mud. Pluck! I am now plucking a apple off of a branch. Twenty nine to go! I have to hurry though, because if my mom finds out that I got out this early and my jacket is as wet as a fish pulled out of water. Eighteen to go! Sunday apples roasting merrily in the oven for our Thanksgiving pie, aren’t you grateful for something like that? Oh, I remember when me and my great grandfather picked apples every Sunday morning. We baked them into pies and then, we even made apple juice as little tart as we could. Adding teaspoon after teaspoon of sugar. One more and… Ah, the perfect Sunday apple. I placed it on the top and waddled from cold carrying the ladder with me and setting it aside for next Sunday. I take off my plucking boots by the door and slowly walk inside, the bucket of apples in my arms. I set them on the counter top and waddle back to my room. I take off my jacket and throw it on my bed. I turn on my Dell computer and check Google for Tony Woods and find my great grandfather. As happy as a baby bird being fed a worm for its first time in years. He smiles at me. A tear rolls down my face. I press the print button and on it goes. The picture of him is printed. I take the picture of my sister out of the frame and put my great grandfathers picture inside it. Do I have a special time in my life? Of course I do. That special time was picking the Sunday apples with my Great Grandfather.
Filed under Uncategorized | Comments (2)Trans-Siberian Orchestra Video
I didn’t get to go see the concert! 150 dollars for THREE PEOPLE!!!! SO CLOSE!
Filed under Uncategorized | Comments (2)Hope
Hope is a sweet song you can listen to, care free. Hope is a sweet butterfly floating through a sapphire sky. If you fall down, and there isn’t anybody to pick you up, ask for help. Nothing is impossible and no one is mean. That’s what I figured out when I met my now best friend, Olivia. She was there for me when I fell down such as, when I got into a fight and I was crying, she would put a warm arm over my shoulder and say, “It’s Okay, Johanna, It’s okay.” And I would soon see a tear roll down her cheek. Hope is a powerful thing that can take you a long way. I hope that Olivia is successful in her life and is NOT someone who sits around on the couch all day. She is a very small, smart, talented lady who will be successful in her life. My hopes for her are high. She is a short, orderly, antique little girl with radiant, dark, russet hair that is shoulder length, ivory colored skin, cranberry framed glasses and salmon colored lips. Hope the best for your friends. Hope for a good future Don’t let them be a failure in life. Have them be a professor, a phycologyst, a teacher. Someone part of the community for your friends. Hope of the best for friends. Those are my hopesand dreams for a wonderful friendship.
Dream small, dream big, it will never happen until you dig.
Olivia
Filed under Uncategorized | Comment (0)A educated person is a happy person
This is the Hindu godess Kali.
- Luther Map
The picture above is called the Luther Map. I will put more history pictures.
The picture above the Luther Map is The Hindu goddess Kali. She killed demons by sipping the blood that their necks drooped because every time their necks drooped blood onto the ground, another would pop up.
The reason why I called this, An Educated Person Is a Happy Person is because we all learned something today about the Hindu religion and the Luther map. ENJOY!
O_o (I love History!)
Filed under Uncategorized | Comment (0)YES!!!
Guess what? Today is Friday and this Friday (which is today, my friend), my BFF is spending the night with me!! Her name is Olivia, Olive for short. OHHHHH I AM SOOOOO EXCITED! First, we will finish our Friday homework (not much, really) then, we’ll go on my dance mat and play the hurdle challenge (where you step on the two arrows on the side and when there’s the jumping pole, you hit the back arrow.) Then, we’ll go on the Gamecube and play Tony Hawk and make funny skaters like ones with electiric blue hair and girls who look like men. Then we’ll go on her Playstation and play the scariest game in the world………….. The Bratz game!! AHHHHHHHHHH!!! Then I don’t know what we’re gonna do…. I’ll keep you posted.
Filed under Uncategorized | Comment (0)Metamorphosis
Butterflies, bees, and other insects go through complete metamorphosis. Metamorphosis is a stage where insects such as the butterfly, start from an egg, to a caterpillar, or larvae, to a chrysalis, or cocoon, and finally able to sprout its wings and is able to form into a beautiful butterfly. Other insects such as the dragonfly go through incomplete metamorphosis. Incomplete metamorphosis is when the stage is incomplete. The dragonfly starts off as an egg, then to a nymph which lives under water with tiny wings, sheds its skin and has bigger wings. After a few times of shedding its skin, the nymph turns into a dragonfly. Now, if you can think of a reason why an insect shouldn’t go through incomplete metamorphosis, please tell me and I will PROVE YOU WRONG!!!
Information from a learning site. Please consider.
Filed under Uncategorized | Comment (1)Mighty Oak
Grey clouds were dancing above Shawna. Shawna is walking to an oak tree by the stream that her father owned. The dry oak tree leaves seemed to whisper as she walked by them, hands in her pockets.
She heard footsteps behind her. She walked faster. The footsteps got faster.
“What do you want?” she said, looking up at a tall, scrawny boy.
He had ginger, brownish hair that partly covered his eyes, which were ice-cold blue.
“Why are you following me?” she asked timidly, looking into his eyes.
“I need help, my car broke down,” he said in a voice that kind of sounded like a police siren.
“Okay, sure. I’ll try and help.” she said.
His small lips almost turned to a smile. “Follow me,” he said. “Hi, my name is Nick. My friends call me BC for some reason.” It started to drizzle, and he pulled an umbrella out from the backpack he had. “Here, take the umbrella, I’m fine.” Nick said.
“Thanks. -Do you have a– no I’ll go get mine,” Shawna dashed into her house and came out the next minute with her skateboard.
“My car didn’t crash, it just broke down and I just filled up the tank,” Nick screamed through the rain as it started to hail.
Just then a piece of hail about the size of a golf ball came out of the sky and hit Nick on the head.
“Nick! Nick! Are you okay??” Shawna screamed. “Nick? Nick??”
Will Nick be okay? Will he be alive? We will find out next time……….
I am sorry, I like to keep you guessing. But it’s your call, you respond to this post and tell me what you think. Will he live or survive?
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