Tommorow I leave for Scotland. I probably won’t be able to post this Easter, so here’s an Easter poem:
‘Twas The Night Before Easter
‘Twas the night before Easter when all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
Baskets were hidden ready for the sweets,
chocolate, creme- eggs and other lovely eats.
The children were nestled, all snug in their beds,
While rabbits and baby lambs danced in their heads.
With the brothers in their bedrooms, and me in my cap,
had just settled our brains for a Spring night’s nap.
When out on the lawn there came such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter,
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw back the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-grown flowers,
Shone bright despite the early hours,
Then to my wandering eye came an image so funny,
There on the grass stood the jolly Easter Bunny.
He hopped a lot, it seemed quite a habit,
I knew it must be the Easter Rabbit,
He bounced like a kangaroo with springs on his legs,
And his nose twitched as he called out the colours of his eggs.
“Now red, now, blue, now purple with Stripes!
“Now black, now yellow, now turqoise, now white!
Behind the porch! On top of the wall!
Hide them, hide them, hide them all!
As dry leaves that stay in the place where they fell,
Whether under on top of a bush or down in a well,
They’d roll for a bit, then suddenly stop,
Then all around them the rabbit would hop.
And then in a twinkling I heard in the dirt,
The prancing and pawing of each little foot,
As I drew in my head and was turning around,
The bunny leapt to the door with a bound.
He was covered all in fur, from his head to his tail,
A rabbit the size of a very small whale,
A basket of eggs he carried on his back,
and he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.
His eyes how they twinkled, his whiskers, how merry!
His teeth were all sticking-out, his nose like a cherry!
His brown, big ears stood up straight as a line,
and the fur on his back had a parting so fine.
The stump of a carrot held tight in his teeth,
And the leaves they encircled his head like a wreath,
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed like a bowllful of jelly!
He was chubby and plump, a jolly little bunny,
I laughed when I saw him, he looked so funny!
A wiggle of his tail and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And hid all the eggs then turned with a jerk,
And with a waffle of his nose and a wink of his eye,
He hopped away and waved goodbye!
He sprang with his basket in a sort of jog,
And hop-ran away like an exitable frog.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he hopped out of sight,
“Happy Easter to all, and to all a good-night!”
PS: Here’s the original poem, read it, it makes mine seem funnier:
I still celebrated Easter, though I think my teacher might have tried to change my mind!
Should be banned!!!
Sitting cross legged is dangerous.
Today during assembly I sat cross legged for so long I lost all feeling in my foot. When I stood up at the end it was like balancing a-top a cricket ball. My foot fell of side-ways causing me to trip. As I sat rubbing the feeling back into my sleeping foot it began to feel better and I managed to limp to the door. My foot began to feel as normal … Before crippling pins and needles left me limping again.
I’ve never been comfotable with it anyway. I’m one of those people who limps away from assembly, pins and needles stabbing my every step!
Unfortunately I had to sit cross legged soon after. We had a drama lesson and Mr. Fairgrass invented this wierd new game near the end to help us concentrate.
We had to pretend we were part of a strange new religion and this little toy chinese good luck cat (whom we named Mew-Chu) was our holiest object (but you could tell that by holiest object he meant ‘God’!)
There were rules like:
- During prayer time nobody must laugh, talk, or disrespect the great Mew-Chu in any way.
- During prayer time one must be in a position for prayer (which in Mr Fairgrass’ world is sitting cross legged.
- Nobody can get too close to the great Mew-Chu and nobody must avert their gaze away from him.
- Everybody has to be called brother or sister. I don’t mean in a ‘family’ kind of way, I mean in a nun or monk kind of way.
- Mr Fairgrass is the Grandmaster aka high priest, guru, Pope ect. (I kept wanting to yell out to everyone “I have been touched by the great Mew-Chu, he has chosen me to serve him as the new Grandmaster!”)
- Any brother or sister caught breaking the rules of the high church of the great Mew-Chu must be brought before the Grandmaster to be told their forfeit. The four whom disgraced themselves in the presence of Mew-Chu were sentenced to three forfiets. The first few were sentenced to walk around the circle clucking like chickens. The third had to crawl around on all fours, the third had to ask Sarah’s hand in marriage. Judging by how everything else had gone if Sarah had excepted she would have had an interesting ceremony. I can imagine her now, kneeling before the Great One, both lovers sleeping at opposite ends of the playing field on beds of pencil shavings. Blind-folded, only able to uncover their eyes and speak again when, in full gaze of Mew-Chu the Grandmaster joined them in holy matrimony!
Did I mention the cat was just a head with arms, legs and ears? With a really cross face?
Just join us, and the Great one will give you eternal blessing.
My art did not die.
Toad in the hole
I made toad in the hole and chips for tea. It is a hard dish to make as it involves a lot of hot batter and sausages.
We went shopping to get pizza (note the toad in the hole and chips) tommorow we’re ordering Chinese \(^o^)/!
I heard about this thing called the poetry games, problem was you have to write your poem about stuff you care about. One of the options was current afairs so I wrote this (they asked for it!):
There is horse meat in our beef,
Black Beauty’s on the shelves,
We say it’s bad to be so cheap,
but we’ve eaten some ourselves!
We complain to the shops,
for selling us horse pie,
said the shop manager,
“’tis farmers fault not I.”
We complain to the farmer,
about our burgers and beef sauces,
he says we should be understanding,
for budget reasons his cows are horses!
We complain to the government,
but our tempers run their courses,
we’re calmer until we uncover the truth,
The goverment’s made up of horses!
So whenever you see expensive food,
and you think its you their robbin’
don’t care to much about the cost,
at least it’s not boiled down Dobbin!
Pretty cool, eh?
I lost the pirate ship to safety gone mad!
Today two things happened one good one bad, they both happened at the garden centre:
The Good Thing
We went to Paulos Circus (it was set up in the Garden Centre) It was magical. We had candyfloss, saw clowns and acrobats. Here are some of the acts (not counting a comic man who acted in between doing jokes and on one occasion plate spinning. A more dignified man showed up once or twice as a double act.):
- A team of me who limbo-ed under a flaming limbo pole.
- Two acrobats.
- A juggler who balanced on a plank of wood while tossing those bowling pin things.
- One of the acrobats solo.
- A team of black men skipping dressed in faux fur loincloths, chestcloths and shoes while Shakira’s ‘This Time For Africa’ played in the background. I’d say it was slightly rascist, but they were black and they’d chosen the costumes.
- Intermission (when we had candyfloss served by the acrobat lady)
- The acrobats again.
- A man in an astronaut costume dancing with the juggler.
- A young girl acrobat climbing up a rope and doing gymnastics while wrapped in it.
- The team of black men doing gymnastics in slightly less realistic versions of their previous costumes.
- The End.
The Bad Thing
Many of you will have heard me speak of the pirate ship. A play area at our local garden centre.
It was mostly a ship. A replica of a ship sailing on a barky sea. Inside was everything a pirate could need. A cabin, a crows nest, wrigging, a hold, cannons , three stearing wheels, two slides and even a brig and plank (though eventually blocked of by a weedy easily climbable board.) Paintings of pirates adorned the walls. On one side of it were the sinking ends of a ship split in two, both curved triangles pointing at the sky, a zip wire between them. Those of you who are old friends of this blog remember the many descriptions of moves, of games in which we ran from it, our assailant, but all was in jest.
On the otherside, cut off from marine theme, a truck with giant all terrain wheels, a slide at the back, climbable bonnet and roof, open space where the engine should be that doubled up as the best hiding place in the area, and a steerin wheel and buttons for those still at the ‘Brrrm Brrrm I’m driving a car’ stage.
All of these made it unnique.
It happened when we went there. It had been shut for many weeks for safety reasons (in other words: it was a bit wet) Dad joked that when we got there it would just be a soft play area. We never dreamed how right he was…
We saw the corner of the ship, newly painted red, (though James thought the colour was too different, if he’d known what was coming next he’d have been pleased if the whole place was bright magenta pink!)
We could only see a corner behind the trees (it is a garden centre!) but we kept going. We could see a corner, a bigger corner, a quatre… and that was it.
Our beloved ship was gone…
Sliced off at the side by what seemed to be the carving knife of a giant, chopped up into little bits.
The quatre stood in the middle, out of place amongst the wreck. The pirates had been bested, their remnants of their ship lay floating around where it had once stood. The old things were still there, but a lot more rubbish. They’d kept the brig, but sliced off the door so there was no more ‘locked up’ atmosphere. The pirate cellmate stood frowning behing bars, the only survivor.
They’d kept the places where the swing-thing was, but in one side of the sinking ship was a bench, and in the other a hole had been cut for the slide. The open, metal classic one, not the massive orange tube one. Even the slide was worse, they had made it shorter by making the bit that touches the ground longer.
The crowsnest was no longer high up, only reachably by rigging (or for the less adventurous, climbing up a ladder or the slide.) it was on the ground and looked less like a look out’s post for men of old and more like a dustbin.
A few planks of wood with a wooden cross on top and a cannon bobbed along. I felt envious and saddened by the two young children I saw enjoying it. Envious because they were having fun where I couldn’t, saddened because their ‘ship’ was pitiful compared to the old thing.
The rest had been sliced and diced and made into a make shift obstacle course to circle the graveyard of lost playtime. That which I have described to you is all that is left.
We had to practically gag James to prevent him from calling the people at the front desk babboons and gibbons to their faces!
I wrote more poetry!
Today James and Henry were gone… bliss! We had a take-away pizza because whenever the bros. go to their friends house (as they did today) they always come back telling tales of having whole takeaway pizzas to themselves. mmmmm…. Pizza….
By the way here’s a poem by me:
Rally the troops
Rally the forces,
Gather the men,
Gather the horses,
Prepare for the battle,
Prepare for the fight,
Under cover of darkness,
Under cover of night.
Hear plans of ambush,
Hear plans of surprise,
check for the untruths,
check for the lies,
Don’t notice the screams,
Don’t notice the wails,
Take heed of the stories,
Take heed of the tales,
Out in the heat,
Out in the sun,
Just you and your weapon,
Just you and your gun,
‘Till, the battle’s over,
‘Till the battle’s end,
You sit with your mate,
You sit with your friend.
Wondering if the fighting will stop,
Wondering if the fighting will cease,
Wondering if there’ll be quiet,
Wondering if there’ll be peace.
That’s it so far.
Sorry about the ‘clip-show’
To make up here’s a ‘deleted scene’ (never before seen content!)
Here at last! We spent most of yesterday travelling. When we got to Chambord I was glad we were only staying for one night. Mum and Dad were thrilled with the big, cool, roomy living room/kitchen, but they didn’t have to sleep in the small, hot, cramped bedroom! All mobile homes have one bedroom with a double bed and one bedroom with two beds, one with a top bunk. The space varies, I’ve slept in some rooms were they have an extra toilet coming off them at the side, this was not one of them. It was so small that to get to my bed (the top bunk) you had to skip a few rungs of the ladder and stand on James’ bed!
Still, sleeping arrangements in some of the mobile homes aside, Chambord is a nice place. It has a play area with all the usual stuff, but it also has some cool exercise machines, so all the kids play on them. The pool at Chambord is magnificent. It is really four separate pools including a bubble bath (which they’d drained for some reason) and The Lazy River (which is a bit like Rocking Rapids only better.)
We brought the crocodile with us, and I blew him up single handedly, so me and James could play our sailing game, in which we try to sail on the croccy across the the pool, under the little bridge, past the bubble bath, into the shallow end and then back again. But James said that it wouldn’t work because the crocodile had a hole in him and kept deflating, which I didn’t think mattered as me James find this game fun because we keep cap-sizing and sinking, if you ask e he was just afraid of the cold water, I was proved right when James kept saying that we could go round the Lazy River with the crocodile, so it’s too deflated for the cold pool, but perfectly fine for the warm pool.
Luckily, I discovered that the croccy was great for going down the slide and I had a great time.
That was yesterday, now I’m in the Pyranees, in a jeet! A jeet is a French word for a holiday house, James and Henry still have to share, though it’s not as cramped, and I have a room to myself!!!
My room is red and white, it has a duvet and pillows set with elephants on them. I’ve got a few shelves for my books too.
Mum and Dad keep talking about how we’re moving, on the bad side I’ll leave all my friends, the badger, my debating group and everything I like, on the plus side after school, (which Mum seems to think will be full of kids like me, who 2hate playing tag and prefer to read all lunchtime) I can play in our garden, which is going to have a small wood in it! Mum and Dad say we can have a zip wire, and a tree house, how are we going to have time to play with it all?!!
I like the idea though, especially the idea of a wood, we could put toy animals and fairy lights in the trees.
A nice relaxing time on a donkey, NOT!
Last time we went to Gevarny it was horrific. When we reached the top of the massive mountain we were on our knees, so this time Mum and Dad hired us a donkey. We expected something that would carry us up effortlessly and be easy for us to lead. We got Napoleon.
Our first slight problem was Henry, he saw the donkey and was terrified. James decided to get on first and I was to lead, unfortunately Napolean was hungry, very hungry. Every time he came across horse or donkey dung he had to sniff it and every time he came across some plants he had to eat them. And you try leading a massive donkey away from food! Of course the worst time was when THE WHITE DONKEY WITH THE BLACK SPOTS (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) turned up, Napolean decided to talk to him, and didn’t seem to notice that he was dragging me along the ground after him I have horrible wounds from that experience! James didn’t want to ride him after that, so Mum tried him, but he kept almost going over the edge, I tried him next and it was FUN!!!
Much better than walking and when we finnally got to the top we had another surprise, it turns out that unlike the myths that mice only eat cheese, or dogs only eat bones, or cats only drink milk, donkeys do love carrots! It was my idea to bring them; he ate all but one of them at the top while we had ice creams, then at the bottom he finished off the last one!
PS I’ll expect birthday comments below! 🙂 And (bad grammar!) if you think I’ve missed out an important one then:
The dog’s name is Sorry Dog, not exactly imaginative for a wannabe writer, but look at his little face!