Knitting, Till She Goes to Sleep

She said that she could have been someone. There was a nice old lady who lived around the corner in Greece. She has an amazing voice, so she goes to the church to sing, every Sunday. She said that she could have been something.

Her name was Mrs. Herring, but that wasn't her real name. Her real name was Martha Jones, but everyone just called her Mrs. Herring. She had a husband, but he died in 2004. Now all she has is her cad named ginger. She said she could have been something.

Mrs. Herring always wanted to sing in front of a huge audience, and get 27 roses thrown at her when everyone applauded. She said she could have been something.

She was blind you know…always sitting by the fire, at night with Ginger on her lap, knitting. Knitting till she goes to sleep. She said she could have been something.

She was a fast runner, and wanted to run all the way to the Olympic finish line and get a gold medal around her neck. She said she could have been something.

Martha Jones, a vey talented and caring woman,

Will always be remembered in our hearts

1913-2007

She said that she could have been something.

I Know What You Got Me For X-mas

What I like about Christmas is how happy people look if you get them something really nice.
But what I've noticed is that Elizabeth can not keep a secret. I always find out what shes going to give everyone else, and most importantly me. She does that every year, so shes no surprise.

A Long Lesson

My sister does dancing lesson and right now she has a show coming in about a weeks time. She had to practice every day for the past month, practice makes perfect...I think.

She had to go today, she had to skip her piano lesson, so I had to have an extra half hour of it, because Elizabeth took the other thirty minutes, so it was equal. Piano teacher came at 4:30...about. I had to go first, 'cause Elizabeth didn't want to.

A lesson for an hour and thirty minutes, that's a long time, well for me anyway. halfway through, board to death. Almost there, almost to the end of the long long lesson. Ahh finally the end of it, reliff.

I'm never having a lesson like that again, never.

Just Another Day

December 8, 2009, didn't do much. Didn't feel special. Just another day.

10:00. Woke up in the morning feeling very sleepy, completely forgot about what day it was... until Elizabeth said, " when are you going to give her your present?"

" Umm, what present."

" The mothers day present," She said again.

"Uhh, okay," I said in sleepy voice, and walked away.

12:00. " When are you going to give your mothers day present?!?!," Elizabeth shouted as loud as she could.

" Go away," I said, and she went.

3:00. "When are you goin g to give Mom you present?" she said in the most annoying way.

" Shut up, go away, your just saying that to annoy me aren't you?" and I walked into my room.

5:00. WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO GIVE YOUR MOTHERS DAY GIFT?!

"Not now go away, now."

10:00. She peeked into my room and whispered into my ear," when are you going to give you her present?"

"Oh my," I said and ran to get my picture frame and whent to give it to her. Finnaly Elizabeth will stop bugging me... I think?

If not It will be the same with Christmas presents

UK

Britain,
the place my family was born.
The place I wasn't.
It flows through my blood
like it would flow through a river.
Not an English accent, not quite,
my own, mixed, unique, mongrel one
Haven't lived there
for more than a year.
But that's where I'm from,
where I'll always be from.

It is the place with scattered villages
but only none do I belong to.
I'm in Panama
and that's where I belong for now.
Not in Greece, Romania, Malaysia, not any other place I lived
Just here... for now.
Almost my entire family are settled in UK,
except the ones like us.
The ones who are away from pounds and high prices,
strong English accents asking you questions over and over.

I miss Britain,
with the cool weather,
with the sun till 10:00,
with the fields and fields of green and
fields with cows, horses, sheep.
Mud, thistles, nettles, berry's,
wildlife every where you look.

I'm here for now,
not there...perhaps I'll return one day...one day maybe?

What Keeps Me Writing?

Mrs. Brown, you are the person who teaches me to write, the person who tells me to edit and revise so my lips can read the beautiful words you taught me. And you are the person who is so clever at this, and will share her skills with her students who will willingly listen and learn.

What keeps me writing is probably my family because they always inspire me from the beginning of the day to the end. My sister-Elizabeth-gives me loads of stories, but when it comes to writing them I'll only remember one, the most meaningful one. Frances gives me feedback on if it makes sense, or if she even knows what it means. My father grammar and spells check on about every single word. My mother tell me how good it is or how the story really goes so I'll write it again. And again, until it is pushed to perfection.

I probably have millions of stories swirling around in my head waiting to be written and waiting to be read....

Just A Few Stories

Zoe (fluster girl),
Hi, just telling a few stories

Funniest incident occurred yesterday, neighbors and I were out playing street hockey, except, an odd number of people, one player was impartial for bothsides, and that person was Isabel (a devious, agitated, indifferent, obnoxious, intimidating always flustering girl, competent, industrious, ready to compromise or renovate ways). We play street hockey with hockey sticks on roller skates on dilapidated road, if you didn’t know. Isabel precisely said astutely, she would be playing a whole time in latitude ;(a sham) we heeded her, and mused if it’s true. Afterwards she tripped herself, subsided onto her face, looked like she was devouring the road, It doesn't sound funny, but it was authentic, unwitting, she was aghast, though everyone admonished her.

Yesterday I had a dream... I was in an adequate world of mythical creatures; I was a bird full of plumage, looking over beautiful land. Except the trolls ungainly scavenging for food, they are predatory things when the slaughter their meals, the only venerable animals. This was prior to humans because there were dinosaurs.(This was weird.) That was a figment of imagination that I thought in solitude.


Write to you tmorrow. No derogatory thoughts
Eleanor

Melissa

Melissa is the girl who has eyes as green as a cats and clothes the color of grass. The people at school think shes crazy with her nature friendly ways, perfect silver toes and perfect silver eye shadow...everyday, for all I can remember.

Melissa who is too pretty to be seen, she stays locked up under her fathers lock and key. Her father wants her perfect, to grow up, get a job, and live her life like a normal person. But Melissa has dreams that she will just have to keep dreaming. For now she is under her fathers law.

Melissa who taught you to do perfect silver toes and perfect silver eye shadow, roles her tongue and flips her blond hair. Will you teach me?

Melissa who does not have many friends because of her ways with nature, got in a fight and lost them. The friends I mean.

The rumors that people carry around, there not real. You stand in the corner of the field, as if no one else is there. Melissa what do you think about then?

The clock tickets until 3:00 Melissa, what would you do if you didn't get home to your father on time, what if you didn't?

Melissa do you wish that you could be free from your fathers rules, go your own way, stop dreaming you dreams and start living them...away from Mango Street. Far far away, where no troubles can catch you, where no fathers can lock you up and control you life. Put your own perfect silver toes and your own silver eye shadow, your nature friendly ways, your clothes as green as grass, some where people don't call you crazy.

Paper, Stickers, Pencils, Canvases, Paints, Everything

Today I would like to confess that I really like paper. Not just any paper; paper with patterns: with flowers, stripes, spots or anything. I have a whole load full that I use on various things such as: cards, notebooks, all most anything really.

Another thing I love is stickers, but not just any stickers, ones with nice sequins such as ones made out of wood with little rhinestones on them. Or ones that are hard and clear with a real flower in them.

There are lots of places I like to get them...but I have two favorites, Hobby Craft and Micheal's.

Both have a huge amount of paper all stacked up waiting to be bought. And stickers all lined up tempting you to buy them.

That reminds me, another thing that both those shops sell in drawing pencils, I love to sketch with them, make loads of stacks of drawings that still are waiting to be framed in a pretty frame. They also sell watercolors and paints, and proper canvases that I can brush the colors of the rainbow across and create a master piece that I will treasure.

Another thing that those shops sell are...maybe I should stop because this might take a long time to list everything in there.