I thought I should post something of the happenings of my life, because my poor blog has been neglected of late. This is only a short post, the big update will come next week.

So, what did I do this morning? Well bake dozens of cookies of course, who doesn't?
All this past week my sister and I have been making cookies and candy and more candy, for a fundraiser we're having at our church this Saturday, (I'll tell you WHY we're having this fundraiser in my update that's coming ) and on Tuesday we had some friends of ours over for a big taffy making party! It was sticky but so much fun.
As I was pulling my last tray of cookies out of the oven this morning I decided to take some pictures and post them, so here they are.
If you want one they are 50 cents.

And I'm off! To a friends house, to bake more cookies and see if we can't raise just a little bit more money.

This is somthing my TEN YEAR OLD BROTHER WROTE!!

Yes my mom is teaching us well.

Soaked with sweat
Blazing sun
Felt like I'd been
Shot with a gun.
Leaning down
Many a time
My hands covered
With red gooey slime.
Needing a break
It was so hot
I could barely think.
Finally, finally,
Our dad says we can stop.
Right when he said that
I was so happy I almost
Collapsed and dropped.
When we get back
We nearly have an
Unlimited supply
Of Strawberries.

Emily Dickinson

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,
And Mourners to and fro
Kept treading – treading – till it seemed
That Sense was breaking through –

And when they all were seated,
A Service, like a Drum –
Kept beating – beating – till I thought
My Mind was going numb –

And then I heard them lift a Box
And creak across my Soul
With those same Boots of Lead, again,
Then Space – began to toll,

As all the Heavens were a Bell,
And Being, but an Ear,
And I, and Silence, some strange Race
Wrecked, solitary, here –

And then a Plank in Reason, broke,
And I dropped down, and down –
And hit a World, at every plunge,
And Finished knowing – then – 

Would you like to buy some lemonade?

Summer is finally here! Hopefully.
I can't tell you how much fun it is to throw on some white shorts and a blue tank top, grab my sister and a little change and ride downtown on our bicycles. There's something about a beautiful Sunday afternoon that makes me want to go get ice cream!

So this Sunday we did! After the ice cream, Hannah and I rode our bikes around town for a little bit, stopped by the Daily Grind ( almost everything else was closed because of memorial day weekend ) and then started on home.
While walking our bikes across the railroad tracks and munching on skittles, we began to talk of the things we wanted to do this summer ( mostly ways to make money ) and it was then I realized how lucky I was to have a sister this close in age to me and how boring life would be otherwise.
We've had so many adventures together they're hard to count! Most of them are because of the stupid mistakes we made, hilarious but oh so stupid.
Anyways I'm getting sidetracked, let me get back to those summer plans.
It just so happens that our family is moving about a half hour away from the berry capital of the world! And right now, the rate for berry pickers is ten dollars an hour! Yep. there goes our summer!

Its a small town but I might even get a job as a waitress.....maybe.

Here are some pictures of our new house! I stole them from my Dad's Blog:)

This is the back yard view of the mountains.

(They're kinda hard to see).

This is where the garden will be placed on the slope.

Here is the back side of the home. The yard is flat for croquet and a garden. The BBQ area is a little small but then 3 BBQ's would make any deck look small....

Yes we have 3!

This is our new home in Ferndale, Wa. It is a 5 bedroom with a large bonus room over the garage.

And a porch:)!

Top Twenty!

What: Top twenty favorite books in no particular order. Don’t think about it for too long. Take twenty minutes only to compile your list. Bold the ones you’ve read, or reread, since you’ve started blogging. Include novels, non fiction and plays.

It was harder than I thought, narrowing my list down to Only twenty books, but it was a lot of fun!

Pride and Prejudice
The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle
Mandy
Daddy Long Legs
Make Lemonade
The Silver Cricket
Going Solo
Where the Red Fern Grows
Out of the Dust
Banner in the Sky
The Cross and the Switchblade
Maniac Magee
Little Britches
Gods Smuggler
Two are Better than One
Cheaper by the Dozen
The Thief Lord
The Gamage Cup
Golden
Julie

A poem I wrote, ( I was in a bad mood that day ).

Constant is the rain,
sinking my spirits down
into the muddy ground
like a limp leaf.

Looming are the clouds,
colorless and steady,
promising a future of
wetness and cold.

Dark are my thoughts,
ready to murder anyone
who says a sunny word
to me.

Dead is the sibling,
the one that disregarded
his sisters warning.

Its funny, but I really like this one. Weird huh? Maybe because in the beginning it starts out so poetic, kinda sorta;). But after the second verse all the poeticness goes down hill and WOW do my true feelings emerge!

The Dream.

Piano, my silent

mother,

I can touch you,

you are cool

and smooth

and willing

to stay with me

stay with me

talk to me.

Uncomplaining

you accept

the cover to your keys

and still

you

make room

for all that I

place

there.

We close our eyes

together

and together find that stillness

like a pond

a pond

when the wind is quiet

and the surface

glazes

gazing unblinking

at the blue sky.

I play songs

that have only the pattern

of my self in them

and you hum along

supporting me.

You are the

companion

to myself.

The mirror

with my mother's eyes.


~(Taken from) Out of the Dust,
by Karen Hesse

Beast by Donna Jo Napoli and Rafal Olbinski.

I gasp roughly.

Beast and warrior glow white, burning, against the gold ground.
The sun glints off the illuminated pages as it glints off the metal mar-snake-that twists around and around from my wrist to my elbow. My fists clench; I am aghast at dying, aghast at killing.

And thus begins the story of a Persian prince, who is doomed to become a beast.
I've always loved the story of Beauty and the Beast, and so I pranced upon this book, eagerly.
The story is told in first person, from the view of Orasmyn, a young prince who sets an ancient curse in motion by angering a fairy. Not very smart! He has to leave behind his beloved family in order to escape death at the hands of his unknowing father.
To India and back he travels, across Europe to France, in search redemption and forgiveness. Not knowing that a young French beauty named be Belle would be his redeemer.

I liked this book but I don't think I loved it. I did like the way she worked roses into the story (no I'm not going to tell you) and also learning about Muslim customs and other rituals I would never have learned otherwise! I do know for certain that I was absolutely fascinated by Donna Jo Napoli's way of retelling this classic story, and from a view not many people have ever thought of before!

warning: Some very graphic details.

Hi I'm back! I know you're thinking 'gee Rosie, thanks for deserting us, AGAIN!!" But that's not fair because I really haven't! Its all my computer fault! Anyways these last few weeks have been very busy but oh so much fun. I will update past happenings later, but first here are the four fairy tales I've chosen for the challenge.

Beast by by Donna Jo Napoli and Rafal Olbinski
The Rose Bride by Nancy Holder
Hush: An Irish Princess tale by Donna Jo Napoli
Golden by Cameron Donkey

A review is coming soon.

A challenge!! Yay I love new challenges!
Its hosted by Squeaky Books
and the goal is to read at least four twisted fairy tales by May 5.
I don't know what I'm going to be reading just yet, but I think I have some ideas!

Magic......

The shiny black cover of a new notebook, lures me, from its place on the bed.

I sniff its delicious newness with delight while slowly I turn the pages.

Stories flood my head, vivid pictures and tender poems mix with color descriptions and lonely poetry until they're all just a bunch of meaningless words.

I sift through it, untangling the jumbo. Then a story leaps out at me itching through my fingertips to be told.

I reach for the sharpened pencil, and chew on it's pink eraser. Then I put the tip to the lined paper and watch with interest as my story unfolds on to its hungry pages.