tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17731181460469328762024-02-19T06:26:31.521-08:00Writing Time-Girls OnlyMars Drumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16324798967913259519noreply@blogger.comBlogger10125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1773118146046932876.post-52317810732324902652015-02-04T04:56:00.001-08:002015-07-16T23:14:37.199-07:00Emily Hodgson Year 7 2013<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Introduction by Mars Drum:</span></b></div>
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<i><span style="background-color: #ead1dc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Three years ago, I left Melbourne to live in the Wimmera, and so Drawing Time and Writing Time came to an end, much to the dismay of all members. For the last three years, I have been teaching music, wellbeing and literacy in a small primary school, and also facilitating drawing, painting and video workshops with various groups of disengaged youth in Horsham. I have also been painting and writing a lot. </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="background-color: #ead1dc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I was so delighted to hear from Emily about a month ago. Emily had attended weekly Drawing Time sessions since Grade Prep, and Writing Time for the year it ran, 2011. I asked Emily if she was writing and drawing these days, and she sent through her drawings, which you can see <a href="http://www.marsdrum-drawingtime-girls.blogspot.com.au/" target="_blank">on the Drawing Time for Girls blog</a>, and she also sent through this fantastic piece of writing. </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="background-color: #ead1dc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Emily was unsure of how I would receive this piece, even though it had already won an award. This is what she emailed: </span></i></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>"One other thing is that last year I wrote a piece for school and won 3rd place for the yr 7 short story contest, and my friend won second, but for some reason, our teacher said our stories were quite dark (I dont believe it is but I might be wrong). So it scared all my friends from reading it, is it okay if I send it to you?"</i></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">"</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Please send me your writing!!! You know me, I'd love to see your stories. I love your writing, and "dark" writing can be amazing! I'm sure my own stories I tell kids are considered a bit dark...but that's why they're good ones and popular!! Are people too scared to watch Harry Potter? Those stories are classic dark tales. I love surreal stories, dark through to light."</span></span></i></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><span style="background-color: #ead1dc;">It saddens me that there might be school teachers who could destroy artistic confidence or discourage budding authors like Emily. I am so glad that my 2011 Writing Time allowed Emily and other girls to write as freely as they like on any subject, and in any style, knowing there would be only positive feedback and encouragement from the other club members. </span></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><span style="background-color: #ead1dc;">Also check out Emily's poetry from three years before, posted below this one. You will see that she, and the other Writing Time girls, were fascinated and inspired by the poetry of one of my favourite poets, Emily Dickenson. I introduced Emily Dickenson to the Writing Time club with her well-known poem:"Because I could not stop for death", and we all discussed her personification of Death as a kindly old gentleman in a black formal suit and a horse-drawn carriage. Emily Hodgson's three responses to Emily Dickenson's work had me spell-bound. </span></i></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #ead1dc;">I am thrilled to present this latest "dark" story from Emily Hodgson. </span></span></i></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">A Short Story</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">‘Crash! Boom!’</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> That was all I
remember. I knew I had died but somehow I woke up. I woke up in a foreign
place, it was peaceful, I lay on the ground staring up at the sky, the clouds
looked real, but how could they be? I died.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Walking, observing and searching. Searching for something
that could tell me what happened.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I followed a path, a path that felt never-ending, a circle
going around and around, the same things passing by with slight variations, a
different shaped cloud, the trees branches, similar but never the same. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Night, stars, everything. How could this universe exist? How
could two places, so similar exist at the same time? Nothing is exactly the
same. You never have the same dream more than once; this place is like a dream,
a one and only thing, an individual.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Waking up, birds, sunlight, normal. Normal but not the same.
Walking on this new Earth. I still have not seen anyone; all I have seen are
trees, Earth and sky. I heard the birds chirp, but I never saw any. Walking,
again, finding my way through the trees. Never stopping, aching feet and a
chattering mind, these things keep me awake, alive in a world of the dead.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Night falls, and day comes, an infinity loop, with me caught
in the middle, the time between night and day, an endless dream.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I keep walking, walking until I finally find something
different, another person, a living person in the world of the dead. I run now,
running was my highest priority. I reach her, she turns I don’t ask her name,
she doesn’t ask mine, we just stare, and then we walk, not knowing why or how
we knew that we should, but we both just walked, footsteps in time with each
others.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Night was different today, so was day, it was still an
endless dream, but with another person in it, it felt like a completely new
dream, a new planet to explore.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We talk, first words not ‘Hello’ or ‘nice to meet you’ but:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“How can you be here?” she spoke these words quietly but it
was obvious she wanted me to answer.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“I wonder the same thing.” Silence.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“Talking, I never thought that I would ever do this again.”
Again silence, neither of us knew what to say, but somehow after minutes of
silence, I spoke. I didn’t mean to but I did.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“Do you know why we are here?” </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“No”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“Have you seen anyone else?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“Yes, but only for a few seconds.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“What do you mean?” I ask.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“You are the only person that has stayed alive here.” She
whispered, “People come here but they usually only come for moments and then
they just fade away.” She looked up to me, “You’re the only one I’ve seen stay.”
She sighed, “I’m Anne.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“I’m Isabelle.” It’s strange to say my name out loud. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“Isabelle...” she looked at the sky, stars sparkling, she
looked back at me and smiled. “Let’s try and find out why we are the only ones
here.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Dreams inside an endless dream, these things shouldn’t
happen but yet they do. My dream last night, we were still walking, Anne
stopped to rest, I went ahead, and I didn’t see anything but something felt
different, I called to Anne but she was too far behind to hear me, I walk forwards
and I find something, I look at the ground and see a sort of mist seeping out
of the dirt, I crouch down and dig, I don’t see anything, no mist, nothing. I
reach into the dirt and my hands close around something, I pull it out, I
open my hand, I can’t see it but I know it’s there.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I wake up.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We walk again, I reach into my pocket, I didn’t think I had
put anything in my pockets, I pulled my hand out and uncurled my fist, nothing,
there was something there but I just couldn’t see it, just like my dream. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> We kept walking,
until we hear something, we run until we find the person making the noise, a
young girl fading in and out of sight. So this is what Anna meant, </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Use the stone; it can
give her life, but it can only work once</i>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I looked at Anna, she couldn’t hear it, it was in my head. I
think of my family and going back to them, but then I think of this girl, her
parents longing for her to live. Anna broke my train of thought.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“She’s not dead, she’s dying.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I grabbed the stone and pressed it into the girls hand, she
stopped fading and smiled.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">With that, in that world I stayed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But I woke up. </span></div>
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Mars Drumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16324798967913259519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1773118146046932876.post-23638245473628867542011-11-10T22:48:00.000-08:002011-11-10T23:00:11.239-08:00Emily Hodgson<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Here are the remaining two pieces from the amazing Emily Hodgson. The first one was posted in September, titled "Boo!"</span></i><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> <b>THE WOODS</b></span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I stumble through the forest. My feet are cut and bleeding. I have been weaving, and now I take a heavy breath and step up onto my hammock. I hear a noise. I try to rest, but I can't control my panic! I become very frantic. I turn around and fall face first onto the ground. When I look up, I see Death! It takes my hand and pulls me up and I get sucked in and that, in fact, is my death!</span></b></div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Emily wrote this piece after our discussion of famous women poets, which included the wonderful Emily Dickinson and her poems about Death. The figure of speech known as "Personification" was introduced to the club. Emily, do you remember I could only recall the first stanza of my favourite of Dickinson's poems, <u>" Because I could not stop for Death"</u>? Well, here it is:</span></i><br />
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<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, 'lucida sans', helvetica, geneva, sans-serif;"><tbody>
<tr><td valign="top" width="80%"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc6600;"><b>Because I could not stop for Death</b></span></td><td align="right" colspan="2" nowrap="" valign="top"></td></tr>
<tr><td colspan="3">by <a href="http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/155" style="color: #336699; text-decoration: none;">Emily Dickinson</a></td></tr>
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<tr><td colspan="2" valign="top"><pre style="font-family: verdana, arial, 'lucida sans', helvetica, geneva, sans-serif;">Because I could not stop for Death –
He kindly stopped for me –
The Carriage held but just Ourselves –
And Immortality.
We slowly drove – He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility –
We passed the School, where Children strove
At Recess – in the Ring –
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain –
We passed the Setting Sun –
Or rather – He passed us –
The Dews drew quivering and chill –
For only Gossamer, my Gown –
My Tippet – only Tulle –
We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground –
The Roof was scarcely visible –
The Cornice – in the Ground –
Since then – 'tis Centuries – and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses' Heads
Were toward Eternity – </pre></td></tr>
</tbody></table><i style="font-size: x-large;">Emily's next piece: </i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>"The Water"</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I'm on a boat. </span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Oh no! It's wet!</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I slip.</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I hit my head.</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I think I'm dead, but how will I ever know?</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I think I'm on the brink of death.</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">"Wake up, please!"</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I hear a wail</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">And I get washed with water thrown over me from a pail.</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">"Oh my! You're so pale!"</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I hear a sweet voice saying,</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">"I see a doctor with an evil smile on his face, and then I see him transform shape"</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Her voice sounds glum.</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">She takes my hand and I hear a thump.</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I squeal in pain.</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I wonder if I'm insane.</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">But then she said "Dead."</span></b><br />
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<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><i>It's hard to believe that Emily is only in Grade 5.</i></span></div></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Emily, you must keep writing ...for your whole life! You have a sure talent for it. I am so impressed with these three pieces. More please!</span>Mars Drumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16324798967913259519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1773118146046932876.post-89024779810888089872011-11-03T04:29:00.000-07:002011-11-03T04:29:29.219-07:00Zeynep March<div style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-size: large;"> PROLOGUE</span></div><span style="font-size: large;">"What about the snails?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">"They'll be okay in there," I said."It won't be the advantageous time for a few hours."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">"But what if the lobbyist comes early?" Waffle asked."What if the whale rises like...like last time?"</span><br />
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<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">I grimaced. Didn't Waffle know that I didn't like that subject? Shouldn't he be restraining from mentioning that to <i>me</i>? I put on a casual expression, and pulled the branches around the snails to conceal them. "Hurry! We'd better get back to your house before anyone realises we're gone."</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">In the distance, a shape rose out of the water, and a spiral of water spouted out of its head before submerging again.</span></div>Mars Drumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16324798967913259519noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1773118146046932876.post-48388322765487538652011-09-23T20:36:00.000-07:002011-09-23T20:37:04.891-07:00Emily Hodgson<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Emily whipped up three wonderful pieces of writing in one Writing Time session a couple of weeks ago. We were wringing up our personal distant memories as food for our writing, though if you read comments from the last post, you can see that some Writing Timers were digging in their Imagination gardens, rather than their Memory gardens. Read the following three peices, and let us know in which garden you think Emily might be digging!</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"> And don't forget our new "Spot the spelling mistake" game. The first winner to spot my spelling mistake in this post gets to be the Freeze Freak next session AND first collaborator!!! Hint: You might think "wringing" is a spelling error, but it's not! It's poetic, it's alliterative, and it's allowed!</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"> BOO!</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">What's that shadow in the dark? How it is moaning from the figure of a shark? It moves quietly through the pitch black dark. A gust of wind taps me on the back, and I jump!</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">"Where am I?" I wonder aloud. The rain starts to pour on me directly as it is a storm cloud. I shiver in fright, and take a deep breath. I see a person, but as a cloud. At that moment, I take a step and feel the edge, and I fall just at the ring of a the bell. I couldn't tell who it was, but I heard a person shout "BOO!!!" and I died!</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"> There are two more fantastic pieces from Emily, to be posted very soon. She is absolutely brilliant at creating a spooky atmosphere. It wouldn't surprise me if Emily ended up an author of spooky fiction.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Thank-you, Emily, I'm really looking forward to reading more of your spine-chilling stories.</span></div>Mars Drumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16324798967913259519noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1773118146046932876.post-6225638699756892702011-09-14T02:48:00.000-07:002011-09-14T02:49:28.815-07:00White Blanket of Silence<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Today there were only five Writing Timers: Sian (who turned 11 today- congratulations!), Greta, Freya, Ingrid and Edie. It was sooooo quiet for most of the session, with heads down low to the table-tops as hands flew across the pages....inventing, describing, reporting, matching, listing, rhyming...</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"> Freya invented a new game, where she would list nine unrelated words at the top of her page, then write a piece based on linking all the words up into a meaningful paragraph. Edie, Ingrid and I were really into this new game, it forces the imagination to open up even wider than usual to accommodate all the words. Sian was busy collating facts on particular mammals which are usually overlooked by Australian scholars, eg. the Asiatic lion, or the wolverine. She would summarise these amazing facts from one of the Drawing Time reference books on mammals and read them to me. I learnt so much today from Sian, and all the girls. Ingrid was inspired to check out all the strange names for shark types and copy them onto the whiteboard. Did you know there was a crocodile shark?</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"> And Greta was very busy creating such beautiful poetry. Here is her first piece that tumbled out into her little notebook in a matter of minutes: </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"> "Rising Wind" by Greta Jakob</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">A song whistling in the wind comes out of its hiding place</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Oh whistling wind Oh whistling wind</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Will you sing me a song? </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Greta and I collaborated on two poems also, using the "Pass it on (after one or two lines)" method. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">One poem was about rain, the other about snow. This is where the white blanket of silence phrase was developed, summing up not just how snowfall appears in the night, but also how Writing Time can seem, when every girl is so engrossed in writing whatever she wants to write that the sound of a pin dropping on the carpet could be heard.</span></div>Mars Drumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16324798967913259519noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1773118146046932876.post-75359157733878107042011-09-11T23:11:00.000-07:002011-09-11T23:13:25.603-07:00Freya Van Dyke-Goodman - I remember...<div style="text-align: justify;"> <span style="font-size: large;">When I was 3 months old, my family and I were in the bush on a beach in the middle of nowhere. While we were there, I don't know exactly what happened, but suddenly I couldn't breathe! My mum called a hospital, but the only hospital near us was only for adults. But there was no choice, the people at the hospital put a huge breathing sort of thing on my mouth, and then drove me to a different hospital.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"> When I got there, they gave me a pill and I fell asleep. The next thing I knew was that when I woke up, I had a new teddy next to me and a tray of food, and my mum was sitting next to me. Then my mum told me that we have to stay in hospital for two more days.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div>Mars Drumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16324798967913259519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1773118146046932876.post-64894821969591691692011-09-11T22:59:00.000-07:002011-09-11T23:01:19.003-07:00Miki Redle - UFO Theories<span style="font-size: large;">1. There were other life forms, except they eventually became extinct because of climate change. So we eventually will become extinct too, unless we do something!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">2. There are no such things as aliens. They are made up science fiction.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">3. There <u>are</u> other life forms. They are much more advanced than humans and are making it that humans do not have proof of their existence.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">4. There are no more aliens, except for just a few of their kind left.They are trying to escape from humans because humans will lock them up in cages and study them.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">5. There are no aliens in this galaxy, but there are if you go through black holes / pink holes.</span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">6. There are aliens, but they are so advanced that humans cant find / detect them.</span></div>Mars Drumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16324798967913259519noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1773118146046932876.post-51614994036006600012011-09-11T22:51:00.000-07:002011-09-14T03:54:36.613-07:00Edie Benjamin - I remember...<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">I asked the girls to write about significant events that have stuck fast in their memories. Here are three from Edie Benjamin:</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">1. I remember....from when I was 3, my brother punched me in the nose while I was asleep, and when I woke up, my pillow was covered in blood! Then my mom dragged him by the ear to his room, but his room was only across the hall so it didn't hurt him too much!!!</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">2. When I was 3, I was walking the dog, and I did a face plant on the concrete, so my brother took me home. Now I have a scar on my nose.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">3. Once I was in the cinema, and just two minutes into the movie, I had to go to the bathroom for a minute. When I got out of the bathroom, the movie was finished!</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">" Well, that was a waste of time," I sighed, "I must have gone through a WORM HOLE!!!"</span></div>Mars Drumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16324798967913259519noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1773118146046932876.post-2120266090603177922011-08-24T04:37:00.000-07:002011-09-01T02:38:44.420-07:00Ingrid Hollis<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">We are now into our fourth week of Writing Time, and I have to say that I really LOVE it!! I'm posting a piece of poetic prose ( alliteration, girls!) from Ingrid Hollis here, as she has so cleverly painted the magic of Writing Time for us with words. I really couldn't have described it so well, and am delighted that Ingrid took it on to do so. Thanks you, Ingrid!! (Mars Drum)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">My Poem</span> </span><span style="font-size: large;">by Ingrid Hollis</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">"The sun is shining very brightly on me. And the people around me are very quiet, and are writing very hard. Edie has just come, but is getting in the mood very quickly! Sian has just come as well, and that makes six people here now, including Marie. It's so lovely to be able to spend time outside in the sun, and be able to write, without any distractions!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I have just finished my cordial, and so has everyone else. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Edie has a hat that is cream-corn colour. I really like it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The paper I'm writing on is white. The same colour as our cordial mugs.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The sun has been shining on us for about forty minutes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I have just seen a magpie, I expect it is looking for some food/water/sunlight. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">It has just flown away. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I don't know why.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">There are a lot of plants around me. It is a very beautiful scene! There is a very big tree next to me, I think it's a bit dried up. It is the same colour as the trees around it. The sun is slowly going down.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I have just gone inside. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So that is the end of my poem!</span></div>
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<br />Mars Drumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16324798967913259519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1773118146046932876.post-13665980654759228612011-08-24T03:55:00.000-07:002011-08-24T03:55:35.506-07:00Writing Time - Girls Only<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrH6mnKUlHwyd9YA71gpD5_3RYvFoTVYxo9qn6FcZdFv1cZYPaxvKnOhqLXOuaE9eM-lDAhi3eUxX_2qSJmMrAOdvxneppl1Hg411MhaixKA3qmQUHzasfwBpdZjlVd-m_6Orcz-4xsjY/s1600/girls+only+writing+as+Smart+Object-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrH6mnKUlHwyd9YA71gpD5_3RYvFoTVYxo9qn6FcZdFv1cZYPaxvKnOhqLXOuaE9eM-lDAhi3eUxX_2qSJmMrAOdvxneppl1Hg411MhaixKA3qmQUHzasfwBpdZjlVd-m_6Orcz-4xsjY/s640/girls+only+writing+as+Smart+Object-1.jpg" width="458" /></a></div><br />
Mars Drumhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16324798967913259519noreply@blogger.com1