"Whoa! There's snow everywhere! I've got to get outside!" Julia jumped towards the window just after she woke up.
 
   "Wake up, Tina, wake up!" Julia ran into her older sister's bedroom.
   "It's too early to get up. It's Christmas break, Julia!" Tina didn't even open her eyes.
   "Tina, there's snow!" Julia cried. Tina's eyes flew open. "Snow!?" she exclaimed.
   "SNOW!" Julia shook Tina's shoulders.
   "Oh, my!" Tina launched herself out of the bed.

   "I'm going to get outside before you do!" Julia rushed down the stairs as fast as she dared.
   "Oh, no you aren't!" Tina raced down the hall to the mud room.

   In the end, Tina and Julia reached the snow at the same time. They threw themselves in to the snow backwards, and started making snow angels.
   "Mine's bigger!" Tina laughed.
   "Mine's neater!" Julia countered.

   Ten minutes later, the window for the girls' brother's bedroom opened. "Bombs away!"  Teddy started chucking snowballs made from the snow on the ledge outside his window.
   "Run, Tina!" Julia headed for her treehouse.
   "Safe at last," Tina said when she climbed into the treehouse out back.

THE END

Genevieve~Robin Hood's cousin

   “David?” Genevieve asked her older brother as she reached for the can of worms. The two were fishing at the river by their house.

   “Yes, Genn?” David questioned in reply.

   “Why did Father have to go to Lincoln? It’s not fair that he’s away so long!” Genevieve asked David.

   “I don’t know, Genn. I suppose it’s his merchant business. He’s not doing to well with it, and his mill wheel broke last month. There’s no income for either of his jobs, and there is not any work here in Nottingham. So he had to go to Lincoln,” David tried to answer Genevieve’s question, but he wasn’t having much luck.

   “Isn’t there somewhere closer than Lincoln?” Genevieve asked.

   “Not that has enough work for him,” David replied.

   “Oh. That isn’t good,” Genevieve said.

   “Nay, ‘tisn’t!” David agreed.

   “Genevieve!” came a girl’s voice from across the river when Genevieve and David when they were preparing to leave.

   “Elizabeth! You are here! We just were leaving, though,” Genevieve called to her best friend.

   “Oh, can you stay?” Elizabeth asked.

   “Nay, we have caught quite a large amount of fish and our baskets are full. We must get home to clean them,” David explained.

   “Oh, Genevieve, meet me at the hollow oak!” Elizabeth called after the siblings when they were going home.

   “When?” Genevieve asked.

   “Tonight, after supper!” Elizabeth replied.

   “I can’t come after supper! Jenessa needs my help,” Genevieve said.

   “Oh,” Elizabeth sighed. “I see.”

   “Goodbye!” Genevieve called.

   “Farewell!” Elizabeth said.

Legal Mass Murder

It’s a mass murder that goes on both continually and legally. It has claimed 15,167,502 (fifteen million, one hundred and sixty seven, five hundred and two) lives since the year 2000. It tears families, friends, and a country apart. This ominous monster is known as Abortion.

Abortion is the killing of unborn infants in the name of freedom. But what freedom is this? This so called freedom is the freedom to kill defenseless children, to end their lives that have hardly even begun, just so that the woman doesn’t have the “burden” of raising a child. But what freedom does this child have? If you are honest, then the only answer is that they have none at all. This unborn child has no say in whether or not their life will end right then and there. They are completely defenseless in the arms of the ugly fiend known as “choice”.

Many people are unaware of how this monster works. And many people, like me, know as much as they can handle knowing. The act of abortion is utterly sick. It is brutal. The unborn child is not thought of as human excepting where the furtherance of science is involved. They are inhumanely murdered – taken from their only life support (their mother’s womb) and then they are killed in one of the many indescribable ways that man has thought up. When dead, they are used to further science, not buried or cremated like a normal human being. Their still forming, beautifully designed, little body is treated like garbage. Tell me there are not people that evil in this world who take pleasure in doing this! But there are.

Here are a few reasons why you should not support abortion.

1. By supporting abortion you are supporting murder – which is sin. Period. From the time of conception that baby is a human being – nothing less.

2. The woman who goes through with an abortion usually regrets it. There have been many testimonies of women who had abortions having nightmares and hearing the cries of their baby whom they wanted dead, and other horrible things that only succeed in causing great grief, regret, and depression.

3. You end a life. The numbers are unreal, the process horrific, the regrets exceeding painful. But the worst part is the fact that that child, that unborn person, doesn’t have a chance to live.

I think that the most intelligent people on earth cannot truly believe that the unborn baby is not human. If life does not begin at conception then when does it begin? I think that doctors know deep down, even if they don’t admit it, that the unborn baby is indeed human. How can they not when they hear that little heart beat, feel the feet kick, see the baby suck his thumb? And then still, they can take that baby out of his or her mother’s womb and lay it on the table to suffocate, or worse – why?

There is nothing good about abortion. Choice? Why should we have a choice? The choice to commit sin and not to commit sin is prevalent all day every day. Abortion is murder. Murder is sin. Abortion is encouraged; therefore murder (and sin) is encouraged by the giving of a choice.

It very well may be that the way to end abortion is to steal away the hearts of those who carry them out – by communicating to the doctors the truth about the awful task they are carrying out and the implications of it. And then telling them of the love and forgiveness that Christ alone supplies.

What will you do? Will you assent to the murder of innocent unborn babies? Will you allow it to carry on when you can do something about it? Will you promote this mass murder by your admission of being “Pro-Choice”?


*From Buttercup*

Mountain Lion Gap

Dear Adeline,

   June 18, 1855 was the day Joshua and I, Elizabeth, came upon that frightful mountain lion. I was terrified, but I kept my head. We were climbing up the mountain to get Mama and Papa a present from the old Widow Hutchinson that lived on that huge mountain. The present? None other than a very nice pistol and two boxes of ammunition. On the way up, there had been no mountain lion when we had crossed the gap. We needed a rope and skill, so it was no wonder that Mrs. Hutchinson never came down the mountain. I remember we were on our way down, Josh and I had been descending the mountain for over an hour. When we reached the gap, the rope was already there, for we always left it there, incase anyone ever needed to go up the mountain. Well, Josh went up to the rope to make sure that it was still strong enough. As he tugged on it, a mountain lion jumped down from the ledge above and hissed. Just as Josh was about to go across too! I came with the pistol that we had gotten from the Widow Hutchinson not two hours before. I had it aimed at the cat, I let Joshua take the pistol and then he shot the cat and it fell off the cliff to its doom. We carefully crossed over the gap and started home. I have called that gap, “Mountain Lion Gap” ever since. Once we got home we carefully didn’t tell them ANYTHING till their anniversary when we gave them the pistol and we told them all about it.

   My parents’ anniversary was two days ago. It is now July 1, 1855.

With much love,

Elizabeth

That was my story, goodbye.

Veterans Day

   "Grandpa, it's Veterans Day. Did you ever fight in the wars?" Abby asked.
   "I did. I fought in Vietnam. Oh, that was the worst two years of my life when I was fighting. I fought from '70 to '72. Boy was I glad when I finally got to come home to Michigan, even though I was wounded. You don't even want to know how many times I had to see someone die," Grandpa sighed in his wheelchair. He had been shot in the leg in Vietnam and it was amputated and he was sent home.
   "Grandpa, why did you go if it was the worst two years of your life?" Abby asked.
   "Abby, I didn't have a choice. I was drafted in to service," Grandpa explained.
   "What does that mean?" Abby's little sister, Violet questioned.
   "What, drafted?" Abby asked her sister.
   "Yup!" Violet screeched.
   "It means I didn't have a choice whether I wanted to go or not," Grandpa answered his granddaughter.
   "Oh, that's too bad, Grandpa. I feel sorry for you," Violet climbed up on his lap.
   "Violet, it's okay," Grandpa said.
   "Will you take me to the park, then?" Violet asked.
   "Why don't you and Abby take ME to the park!" Grandpa laughed.
   "That's right, you can't walk," Violet said.
   "Yeah, Violet. Come on, it's still 60° F out there!" Abby referred to the temperature.

The END
That was my story for the day,
Johanna

I think I have some explaining to do...

Sorry Monday's story was so long. I got carried away with it, and I haven't been posting much before that, so I guess it was just to make up for the period I wasn't posting.
I found a particular "thing" that I'm interested in. Shipwrecks and storms. I've always been interested in weather, and I love water. Recently, I found a website about the Edmund Fitzgerald. That really caught my interest. And since Michigan is the Great Lake State, there was a lot of shipwrecks in the area. Including the Fitzgerald (or the Big Fitz), the Francisco Morazan, Walter L Frost, the Vienna, Comet, and Cyprus. The most famous was the Edmund Fitzgerald, second only to the Titanic in popularity and interest. Most likely because of Gordon Lightfoot's "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald".
I could go on and on about shipwrecks, just of my accquired knowledge of the past 36 hours. But, I shouldn't.

Johanna Johnson

The New Friend

   “Katelyn, sit over here!” Leah called from her seat.

   “No, Katelyn, sit with me!” Ella insisted.

   “Katelyn, come here!” Maria whined. Katelyn was the most popular girl in the town, and also the nicest. So it was no surprise to Leah, Ella, and Maria when Katelyn went to sit with a complete stranger that none of them had met before.

   “What’s your name?” Katelyn asked the girl.

   “Kristi,” whispered the girl.

   “Are you hungry?” Katelyn asked.

   “Yes,” Kristi said.

   “I’ve got a whole bunch of food in my lunchbox,” Katelyn said. “Do you want some?”

   “You would do that for me?” Kristi questioned.

   “Of course,” Katelyn replied.

   “Thank you,” Kristi said as Katelyn unbuckled her lunchbox.

   “You’re welcome,” Katelyn whispered.

   “Katelyn, I can’t believe you gave half of your lunch to that girl!” Leah exclaimed after lunch when they were leaving the cafeteria at the all-day conference they were at.

   “It was the right thing to do. Kristi didn’t have any. Her mom thought lunch was provided,” Katelyn explained to her friend.

   “Oh, Katelyn, you really need to learn some things about basic survival!” Ella was shocked that Katelyn had given part of her lunch away.

   “Hey, if that’s what you want to do, that’s your problem!” Maria brushed it off.

   “It is what I want to do, and that’s my problem, I agree. I would have given her all of it, but she wouldn’t hear of it,” Katelyn insisted.

   “I see,” Leah stalked off.

   “Whatever!” Ella shoved Maria out of the way and darted to the room where the conference was being held.

   “Ella! Wait!” Maria ran after her friend.

   “Katelyn, is something wrong?” Kristi wondered, walking up.

   “No, nothing’s wrong,” Katelyn sighed.

   “That’s good,” Kristi looked relieved.

   “Let’s go to the conference room,” Katelyn said.

   “Okay,” Kristi replied.

   “Where do you live, Kristi?” Katelyn asked after the conference.

   “I just moved into a house on Maple Street,” Kristi answered.

   “That means you live right next to me!” Katelyn exclaimed.

   “Really?” Kristi asked.

   “Yes, really! Would I lie about something like that?” Katelyn asked.

   “I don’t know!” Kristi jumped up and down.

   “Do you want to walk with me?” Katelyn questioned.

   “Well, my mom was going to pick me up at 7:00. What time is it?” Kristi explained.

   “Kristi, it’s only six o’clock! You would have to wait here for an hour! It takes ten minutes to walk home from here!” Katelyn exclaimed.

   “Okay, let’s just walk home, then,” Kristi sighed.

   “Kristi! Watch out!” Katelyn screamed five minutes later. A car was bearing down on Kristi, and she was in the middle of the road. Katelyn ran towards Kristi, screaming all the while. She plowed into Kristi, sending Kristi flying towards the grass while Katelyn skidded across the road. Cars were squealing to a halt, narrowly missing Katelyn. Kristi was crying on the grass, too shocked to do anything. Katelyn was lying on the road, clearly in pain. A teenage driver was leaping out of his car, pulling his cell phone out, dialing 9-1-1. From the other car, a woman in her forties was climbing out of her car, running over to Katelyn, putting her mouth close to Katelyn’s ear, saying, “It’s going to be alright, child. An ambulance is coming. You’re going to be okay.” While her husband walked over to Kristi, asking, “Are you okay?”

   “I’m fine. How is Katelyn?” Kristi replied.

   “I don’t know, but an ambulance should be coming. You say her name is Katelyn?” the man asked.

   “Yeah, Katelyn Adamson. My name is Kristi Bean,” Kristi explained.

   “What happened?” the man asked.

   “I was crossing the road, and then Katelyn screamed, ‘Watch out!’ and then she plowed into me and I flew across the road to the grass. After that, I heard screeching tires and voices,” Kristi recounted her experience as an ambulance flew in. A police car came next, flying to the scene.

   “What’s your parents’ phone number?” the man asked Kristi. Kristi gave him both her parents’ and Katelyn’s parents’ numbers.  And then the man went over to his car and started dialing Kristi’s parents.
   Meanwhile, over by Katelyn, the teenager and the woman were talking to the police officer. The paramedics were talking to Katelyn, and a car was pulling up.

   “What’s going on?” a woman came running up to the police officer. “Where is my daughter?”

   “There was a minor accident. Now if you could stand back, the paramedics are busy,” the policeman said.

   “Mom! I’m over here!” Kristi hollered.

   “Kristi! Are you okay?” Mrs. Bean ran over to her daughter.

   “I’m fine, but I don’t know about Katelyn. Nobody’s telling me!” Kristi reassured her mom.

   “Oh, honey, I was so worried about you! Mr. Zimmerman called me and told me you were involved in an accident.”

   Just then, a second car pulled up. “Where’s Katelyn?” Mrs. Adamson asked the police officer.

   “On the stretcher. She has a broken wrist,” one of the paramedics answered.

   “I guess I won’t be playing basketball this winter,” Katelyn moaned from the stretcher.

   “Oh, Katelyn, that’s the least of your worries!” Mrs. Adamson ran over to her daughter.

   That evening, at the hospital, Mrs. Adamson and Mr. Adamson were sitting in Katelyn’s hospital room. There was a knock on the door. “Who is it?” Mrs. Adamson asked.

   “It’s Mary and Kristi Bean. May we come in?” Mrs. Bean replied.

   “Yeah, come on in,” Katelyn said.

   “Katelyn, you’re awake!” Mrs. Adamson rejoiced.

   “Yeah, I’m awake. I’m hungry, too,” Katelyn sighed.

   “What do you want to eat?” Mr. Adamson asked.

   “Lemongrass noodle soup,” Katelyn answered.

   “I’ll have to go to the store; they don’t have that in the cafeteria,” Mr. Adamson said.

   “You asked what I want!” Katelyn said.

   “I know I did,” Mr. Adamson got up, “I’ll get that from the store now.”

   “Thank you.” Katelyn said.

   “Katelyn how is your arm?” Kristi asked.

   “It’s okay. It hurts, though,” Katelyn answered.

   “Well, of course your broken wrist hurts! I would think something was wrong if it didn’t hurt!” Mrs. Bean laughed.

   “Yeah, probably,” Katelyn snickered.

The New Laptop!

    "Amy! There's a truck coming down the driveway!" Emily hollered through the house on a Wednesday morning in November.
    "I'm coming!" Amy ran up the basement stairs. The girls were homeschooled, but Mom had to go to the store for something, so the two sisters were home alone. Emily was only 5, and Mom told her not to go outside until she got home. That meant Amy had to go outside for whoever came to the door.
    "I wonder who it is," Amy walked through the kitchen. Someone knocked on the door, and Amy darted to answer it. "Hello?" she asked as she opened the door.
    "I have a package for Miss Amy Weir. Is she home?" the man asked.
    "That would be me!" Amy said as the man handed her the package.
    "Okay, goodbye."
    "Thank you!" Amy shut the door and pulled her pocket knife out of her pocket.
    "It's your new laptop!" Emily shouted.
    "Shh," Amy said.
    "Is it sleeping?" Emily asked.
    "NO! Laptops don't sleep, Emily!" Amy laughed.
    "Okay. I'll plug in the power cord for you."
    "Thank you," Amy said as she turned on the computer.

THE END


 That was my story. Thank you for reading. (In case you were wondering, I did get a laptop in the mail today)
Johanna Johnson

Release From The Harley Mansion!

This is from about a year ago.

I dashed up the walk and pounded on the door of the house where my sister was being held captive. “Open the door!” I yelled as I ducked behind a bush where Emily was waiting. A man opened the door and looked around. “Hello?” he asked. There was no answer, for Emily and I were smarter than that, we KNEW he was the evil professor Greg Harley. He walked down to the bay in front of his house as if he thought we had run down there. As soon as we knew he would not be able to see us, we walked into the unlocked, semi-empty house. “Come on! I think she’s this way!” I yelled, meaning I thought Grace was down the hall. The hall I was talking about was dark and foreboding. “I don’t know…” Emily whispered. “Please! It can’t be that bad.” I pleaded. “Oh, oh, okay, but if we get in trouble, it’s your fault.” My friend grumbled. “Come on, it’s for Grace!” I cheered. “For Grace.” Emily whimpered. I dashed down the hallway, Emily in tow. Soon we came to a locked room. “I saw some keys in the kitchen over there.” Emily was pointing across the hall. “Can you go get them?” I asked. “Yeah, I guess.” She walked over to the kitchen and came back with about ten keys in her hand. “Maybe one will work.” She muttered. “WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” we heard a loud noise coming from the kitchen. “Uh oh.” Emily started to whine. “Quick! Unlock the room!” I hissed. She did, and we dashed inside, locked the door again. We had the keys, you know. The room was empty except for a laptop on a table, and a huge mound of bedding in the corner. We could still hear the “WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO”ing. “Please help me. I can’t move. If you can’t do anything else, just tell my mom and dad where I am. My name is Grace Leewon. My parents are Leana and Lil’Bert Leewon. They live at 26 East Ave. in Germantown, Maryland.” “Grace!” I yelled. “AMY?” she cried. “Yes! It’s us, Amy Leewon, and Emily Campbell.” I replied to my dear sister. “What is wrong?” I asked. “I am tied up very tightly and I can’t move at all. Please help. Wait! Just go get Mom and Dad!” We heard a pounding coming from the door. “Uh-oh.” Emily started to whine. “I hope he doesn’t have a second key.” “Don’t worry. You can find out who is at the door by looking at that laptop there. There is a camera out in the hall that the laptop is hooked up to.” Grace informed me. I peeked. “That isn’t the professor! That is Mom and Dad.” I cried. “Answer that door then!” Emily shouted, running to the door. “Come in please!” Mom and Dad obeyed. “What is the status on the professor?” I asked them. Emily looked at me, the question was clear, “How did they know where we were, and what do they know about the professor?” Before I could answer my friend, Mom spoke up. “The professor is tied up in his garden and he is not getting away anytime soon.” Then it was Emily’s turn to question. “How did you get involved?” she asked my mom. “Well, Emily, we all are in it together. Mr. Leewon and I were hiding down on the beach with a rope and when he come down there, we tied him up and came up here to get you guys.” Mom told my friend. Dad pulled out his pocketknife and cut all the ropes keeping Grace tied up. After that was done, we walked to the kitchen were Dad and Mom got the alarm shut off and they called the police to tell the sheriff that we caught Prof. Greg Harley.  

THE END!!


That is my story for the day. Sorry I haven't been on for a while. Too busy, busy, busy!

The tea party.

    "Bridget! I'm so glad to see you! How are you doing?" Katherine asked when she came in the room (Little girl in the blue dress).

    "I'm fine. And you?" Bridget replied (White with blue trim).

    "Wonderful. Mary Ann, in the brown dress behind you, is going to marry Thomas Whitman and I get to be the flower girl!" Katherine explained about her sister's wedding.

    "That's wonderful! Ellen, in the blue dress behind me, says, 'I'll never get married. I don't have a suitor and I'm already 18!' And so she whines and whines and whines," Bridget complained about her sister's

 lack of heart.

    "I like your mama's dress. The teal really looks good on her," Katherine said about her friend's mama's dress.

    "I'll tell her. Tell your mama that the purple looks magnificent on her," Bridget said.

    "Alright. I will," Katherine replied.

    "Girls, time to come in for tea," Bridget's mama called from the dinning room.

    "Yes'm," the girls said in unison.

THE END!

That was my story for the day.

Johanna

Hi,
Let me make this known. This is not my dog, this is not my picture. I have used this picture for my story.

  "Come on, Kiki! Let's go outside," Abigail opened the door to the leaf-filled back yard.
  "Ruff, ruff!" Kiki barked as she ran outside. "Kiki, fetch!" Abigail flung a stick across the yard. Kiki bounced after the stick.
   Kiki chased the flying stick into the woods as Abigail sighed.
   "She'll never find that stick in the woods," Abigail muttered. Sure enough, ten minutes later, after Kiki looking for the whole time, Kiki bounded out of the forest with a leaf in her jaws. Kiki ran across the yard and dropped the leaf at Abigail's, her mistress, feet. "Kiki, that's not what I threw," Abigail laughed.
   "Ruff!" the poor dog barked.
   "Oh, Kiki, let's go inside." Abigail said. Kiki whined. "What, Kiki?" Abigail asked her dog. The dog went over to a tree and pawed at the trunk. Abigail looked up into the tree and saw a bird with a broken wing. "Kiki, stay down," Abigail commanded as she started to climb the tree.
    When Abigail reached the branch the bird was resting on, she removed her jacket and gently lifted the bird into it. Then she carefully descended the tree and carried the bird to her father, a vet.
   "Dad, I found this bird in a tree!" she called to her father.
   "It has a broken wing," Mr. Harrison said.
   "I know that. Can you fix it?" Abigail asked.
   "I'll try putting a splint on it, but I hope you understand, if her wing mends properly, we'll have to let her go free," Mr. Harrison explained.
   "Yes, Dad."

   Several weeks later, Mr. Harrison and Abigail walked into their backyard and let the bird free. Abigail crouched down next to the bird and whispered, "You are free, it's time for you to fly."
   The bird flew up to Abigail's wrist after Abigail stood up. The bird sat there for a minute, nodded it's head as if it were saying 'thank you', and flew off to the woods.
   "There goes the bird," Mr. Harrison was relieved that it still knew where to go.
   "Yeah, I'm going to miss her," Abigail said.
   "Me too," Mr. Harrison admitted, "Let's go inside."

                                                                               THE END

There's my story for the week.

Johanna

The Kiting Room

Funny how my posts are never on Tuesday...
Excuse the journal style of writing today, but I'm not sure how to turn this into a story.

2:30; I hear the screen door. My brother says, "Dad's home." I reply, "What's he doing home this early?" "I don't know," Jeremiah answered. So I run upstairs and ask, "What are you doing home?" "I came to work on the kitchen," my dad says. Let me explain.
We got a set of cupboards recently, and we're working on moving the kitchen.
Right away, we got started on tearing the old cabinets out. Soon, all the doors are off and we're working on tearing the actual cupboards out. They WERE built in. Not anymore.
While we were tearing the cupboards out, I got a blood blister.

"It's a bliss buster!"

At least, that's what my dad says.
So, at the end of the day, half our kitchen is in the living room, and one couch is in the basement.

Johanna

Grandma's 50th Wedding Anniversary

This picture is of me when I was about 7 years old. It was from my grandmother’s 50^th wedding anniversary. Here is a partly fictional story about the picture.

   Johanna Johnson examined the small, yellow rose. “Mom, the rose feels like the collar on my dress!” she exclaimed.

   “Yes, Johanna,” Mom looked over, “It’s time to go get food now, though,” Mom got up.

   “Okay,” Johanna set the flower down and jumped up. Her French braid started swinging from side to side as her bangs poofed up, then down.

   Five minutes later, Johanna, her mom, and her dad were back with their plates of food. Here is a picture of their table;

   “Mom, why is Uncle Tim taking pictures of us eating?” Johanna hissed.

   “I have no idea,” Mom whispered back. Johanna sighed and resumed eating her potato salad.

THE END

La di da di da...

WHOOPS! It's Friday and I didn't post on Tuesday! Yikes!

Not much to say, just swimming for a long time yesterday, got exhausted and cold swimming, and got beat by my friend, Sarah, in Wii Sports Boxing, Wii Sports Baseball, American Girls Board Game, and picking carrots. I beat her in Wii Sports Tennis. And that's it. She also beat me to the back door when we were racing from the woods. Of course, I wasn't even breathing hard after running 400 feet, and she was breathing extremely hard. Ha ha.

Johanna

Watering!

Hi!
Watering pine seedlings isn't my idea of fun, but it has to be done. Hey! That rhymes!


Watering pine trees isn't my idea of fun,
but that is one thing that has to be done.
Before the the new day has been dawn,
the water for trees must be gone.

Okay, I'm not a poet, but I wrote a horrible poem about watering seedlings. Which would be writing in the case of you didn't notice. What should I call my poem? I have no idea, but I need an idea because that is going to be an important thing in the course of the next week.

Johanna
P.S. In case you didn't notice, I am very bad at coming up with names for stories, poems, and blog entries. And I just remembered about some trees that most everybody probably forgot!
Bye!

Well, isn't this fun!

I guess that won't be my new schedule. Tuesdays it still will be. Speaking of which, I didn't even post on Tuesday. I was working on a lead for my story for writers group. Stumped again. Oh well, I still have 6 days. Ha ha, very funny. At least it's better than typing out about 32 handwritten pages of story in less than 8 hours. Good thing I'm a fast typist. THIS story only has to be half a page or less. NOT 11 typed. That was a killer, and my hands hurt for three hours after that episode.
I recently was thinking about how, who, and when someone came up with the American English/British English language. I mean, who in the world thought up "eavesdropper"? Or "hot dog"! Hot dog sort of makes sense, because it does look sort of like those dachshunds.
Just now I made a batch of pickled eggs, and I still have two from LAST time I made them. Boy are those good!
WARNING! Don't ever swallow refrigerated vinegar after eating pickled eggs. *Gag*
I know pickled eggs and basketball have almost nothing to do with writing, but this blog is sort of more personal/writing.

Johanna

No basketball tonight!

Battery covers. No basketball. I am going to TRY to post every day for a week. If  I don't make it, that obviously won't be my new schedule. If I do make it, that might be my new schedule. No progress on my writer's group story. I only have nine days, so I'd better work on it. I don't even have so much as an idea, though! I have an idea! After I get it done, I'll post it on here! That way, you can read it!

Johanna

Hmm...

Hi!

I forgot to post last night... I guess I was so excited about my Aunt Mary & Uncle Jay coming up from Florida, I completely forgot. I was trying to write a story for my writer's group in two weeks, but I couldn't concentrate at all because I was so excited. Anyways, I am going to have to log off, because I need to do some things before it gets too late.

Johanna

Oops!

Sorry I forgot to post last night. I was going to post in the evening, but for the summer, that won't work so well. I have basketball practices Monday nights till the end of August. After that, I don't know my schedule for basketball. (Well that's an uh-oh!) Maybe Tuesday will work...
Anyways, as I write this, I am listening to Pandora. LOVE IT! I mean, if you don't know what Pandora is, you'd better check it out. They have tons of music on their site. And it's free unless you don't want ads. Then you have to pay...
Hopefully basketball won't get in the way of writing. I went to the farmers' market today. We sell eggs and produce.
I'd like to hear what YOU think of my blog!

The beginning...

Well, I guess this is the post that I say why I started my new blog. From now on, I am going to try to post every Monday. I'll try that, and if I need to make changes to my schedule, I'll make changes to it. Really, I am starting this blog because I am a writer, a young one in fact, and I recently went to a writer's group and the guest speaker said, "You are going to need a online presence," or something like that. So that is now what I am doing. Pretty soon, I'll have to start on my story for my writer's group. Well, I have the whole month for that. But, I want to make it good, so I should start working on it as soon as I can, I guess. Talk to you Monday!
Johanna