Estella and the Lawnmower

Okay, first about Estella.  Maysen had a character dress up day in English class.  They had to dress up like any character they had read about during high school.  They were also supposed to bring a food that that character might have brought.  Maysen chose Estella from Great Expectations.  She wore one of my dresses and had me do her hair.  I am horrible at hair; but it turned out not completely embarrassing, so that was good.  Maysen did look beautiful.

Maysen/Estella

Maysen brought her fancy cupcakes and had to give a character toast. (Advice that their character would have given.)  This is Maysen's:

I was blessed with all the practical and necessary comforts in the days of my youth, but they do not define who I am as a woman.  Regardless of my upbringing, I have still endeavored to make my own way in life.  I have but simple requests to make as I stand before you tonight.  One must always, I think, heed the advice given to you by your parents, yet never allow them to select your fate for you and push you down their chosen path.  Do as you are told, but make your own way in as much as you can, whenever the opportunity should arise.  Let no one objectify you.  Keep your pride around you and your head held loftily. Consider all of your actions, and act not without deliberate intentions.  Lack of thought leads to rashness, which leads only to mistakes.  They are beneath you

Above all, remember your own worth, and listen not to the comments of others about your appearance or state of mind, whether they come off as positive or negative in nature.  To that, I raise my glass and make an end.  You may applaud me now.  ---Estella 

Stockton has been working on his children's book project.  He finished late last night.  That is when he asked how to bind the book.  What? We thought about several different things.  We couldn't use a binder because of the way he drew the pictures.  We thought about laminating them, but had no idea where our hole punch was.  We had a fancy hole punch that was given to use when we made the diving badges, but we had already returned that.  I told him to leave his book with me and I would figure it out and get it to him.  Luckily his English class is the last period of the day.  Once Mike got back from the temple I ran down to the Help U Mail store and waited outside until they opened.  He was able to bind it for me and it looked really good.  Too bad I got one of the pictures out of order.  Stockton noticed and he and his friend were able to fix it.  They took it out and laid another page over the top and stabbed the paper where the holes should be, then threaded the book back together.  Whooops.  I guess I should have been more careful, but at least it got done.  Their book turned out really cute.

Two stories were chosen to be given to the teacher's cousin's elementary school class.  Stockton's was one of them.  He worked with a partner named Christopher and was happy with him.  They dedicated the book to a guy named Steve in their class.  It's kind of hard to read the words, so I'll type them above the picture they belong to.

One summer day when the sun was showing

and all of the grass in the yard was growing,

a boy named Shawn had his very last day

of school and came home, excited to play.

But just when he had pulled out a toy,

he heard his parents call for their boy.

"Shawn?" asked his mom, "Can you come here?

Something different is going to happen this year." 

Shawn came upstairs, although he was grim

and found both his parents waiting for him.

His mother opened her mouth and said, "Shawn,

we think that you should start mowing the lawn."

No matter how hard he tried to protest,

his parents insisted this was for the best.

That's when his father decided to speak,

"I'll teach you how, and you'll start next week."

Shawn went to his room and waited there,

He didn't think that this job was fair.

He said, "I don't think I'm old enough

to learn how to do this lawn-mowing stuff."

Shawn stood still and didn't make noise.

He didn't feel like playing with toys.

Now that he had to mow the lawn,

all his excitement for summer was gone.

A week had passed and the day was here

for Shawn to mow his first lawn of the year.

"I guess I should get started," he said

as he pulled the lawnmower out of the shed.

But there was something not seen by the child:

the lawnmower opened its eyes and smiled.

Marty the Mower was shiny and new,

and this was going to be his first lawn too.

When Marty the Mower was taken outside,

he started moving, with Shawn as a guide.

Shawn walked him forward and pushed him around

and Marty cut all of the grass in the ground.

He kept on going, and running on gas,

he cleared the lawn of each blade of grass.

Marty the Mower thought it was fun,

he loved every minute until he was done.

It was a fun day that Marty had had,

but when he went back in the shed, he was sad.

Stewart the Shovel was wondering why,

"If you had fun, what's making you cry?"

Marty was quiet before he replied,

"I just can't wait to go back outside."

That was the only thing Marty would say

until it was finally lawn-mowing day.

Marty was very excited at first,

but a few minutes later, he gained a great thirst.

He felt the sun, and it seemed like his oil

was getting so hot it was going to boil.

Marty kept working, even though it was hard,

to cut up all of the grass in the yard.

After a while, he started to sweat,

but he knew he wouldn't be done quite yet.

When Marty was done, he was put in the shed.

"I don't want to do that again," he said.

Then Stewart the Shovel spoke out of the blue,

"When I started working, I thought that too.

But you know what got me out of the dumps?

I thought of the fun parts instead of the bumps.

Try to enjoy it whenever you mow."

So Marty decided to give it a go.

For the next few weeks, Marty was kind

and put the bad thoughts in the back of his mind.

He didn't whine and he didn't complain.

He even stayed strong when it started to rain.

And soon, he remembered why he had fun

when summer had started and his job had begun.

When Marty looked at his work with a smile,

that's when he got his old lawn-mowing style.

When another summer was under his belt,

Marty told Stewart how thankful he felt.

"At first, I thought that work wouldn't end.

But you got me through it.  You're a good friend.

If you hadn't given me help on that day,

I don't think I would have made it okay."

Then Stewart said, with a tear in his eye,

"Thank you Marty, you're a good guy."

That was when Marty turned his head

and looked out the window on the side of the shed.

Marty showed Stewart, and they looked in awe

at the sudden change of the weather they saw.

The sun wasn't there to keep the grass growing.

Instead, they noticed the clouds that were snowing.

Stewart then spoke, with a voice filled with cheer,

"Summer is over, but winter is here."

Then Stewart watched the door open and grinned,

and in came Shawn and a cold blast of wind.

He started to walk, tracking snow on the floor,

making complaints about his new chore.

Now that Marty had no lawn to mow,

Shawn took Stewart to shovel the snow.

"I'll be back soon, but you did your best.

Now it's my turn to work and your turn to rest."

Limerick

There once was a small toy who tried.

To make all children satisfied.

She spun and jumped.

Clapped and thumped.

'Til the day that her batteries died.

--Jorja

The Golden One

The dragon swims in foaming seas,

His roar it shakes the greatest trees.

His tail it scrapes the cavern's wall,

He's waiting now to see you fall.

His eyes glint blood red in the night,

His scales glow golden in the light.

His icy breath will kill you fast,

Now Silver Ones, breathe your last.

His jaws will snap at ones too slow,

His claws await the final blow.

Even though you're unaware,

You can bet your life he's there.

You can run and you can hide,

You can't escape his all-seeing eyes.

And when you're found you'll know you're done,

Beware!  Beware, the Golden One.

                                                             ---Jorja

Shark Soup

Shark Soup

Soup is like a shark;

it will kill you.

It will choke you

and make you gag

before it puts you

out of your misery.

You must stay away from it

at all times.

There are many different kinds,

but some are worse than others.

Soup is like a shark.

                              ---Stockton

Picture of an Ugly Chicken

I got another e-mail from one of Stockton's teachers.  This time it was from his Creative Writing teacher.  She wrote, "Well, that Stockton has done it again!  He wrote the most clever poem I think I have ever read, so I put it on my blog.  If you want to see it, go to *******.  Also, ask him to tell you about the skit he performed in class today - it was so hilarious, I couldn't stop laughing!  I'll tell you, that is one talented guy."

I have to admit, I enjoyed this e-mail much better then the one I received from his English teacher.  That was very kind of her to write and tell me she is enjoying Stockton.  This is the poem she was talking about.  The kids were asked to write a poem about a picture hanging in their home.

Picture of an Ugly Chicken

A chicken

A chicken with stubby wings

A chicken with a misplaced beak and stubby wings

A chicken with odd eyes, a misplaced beak and stubby wings

A chicken with huge feet, odd eyes, a misplaced beak and stubby wings

A chicken with almost no feathers, huge feet, odd eyes, a misplaced beak and stubby wings

I remember drawing that:

I scrawled my name hastily sat the top.

I think my parents put my preschool drawings on the wall so my family could laugh at them.

--Stockton

What is Silver?

Silver is like the freedom, that we have won.

Silver is an ice dragon's fur, glistening in the sun.

Silver is a fish, given to a pup.

Silver is confident, and never giving up.

Silver is the moon, in the night's sky.

Silver is snowboarding, up really high.

Silver is the sparkle, of many eyes.

Silver is the wind, as it seems to fly.

Silver is the gleaming water, that we all drink.

Silver is the flower, that is not pink.

Silver is the soft silk, that costs more than a dime.

And now I am running out, of silver poem rhymes.

--Jorja Smith

Maysen's 15th Birthday

Maysen is now 15.  Wow.  I wish she wasn't getting older, but at the same time I am glad she is getting older.  It is much better than the alternative.  Mike made Maysen crepes for breakfast this morning.  I brought her a grilled cheese sandwich and a chocolate milkshake for lunch.  It was nice to be able to spend some time with her at school.  For dinner she asked for 'scratch rolls'.  That is all we had for dinner! Haha.  Not very healthy....just the way my kids like it.

Maysen

 Maysen and Jorja

After dinner we read scriptures and let Maysen open her presents. Preston was so excited to give Maysen his present.  He gave her a giant KitKat with a picture he had drawn wrapped around it.  He drew a lot of cats.  It was pretty cute.

Maysen

 Maysen and Preston

 Jorja and Maysen

 Maysen's present from Jorja

 Maysen

 Maysen's present from Stockton

Maysen also got a parcheesi game, penguins (I forgot to put the picture here.....I'll add it tomorrow), and her favorite - a later bedtime. Although she said she knew about that one.  I guess Mike promised her six months ago....I just didn't know about it.  Her bedtime had been 8:00 with the rest of the kids.  Now it is 9:30 on school nights and 10:00 on weekends.  I guess that is a good thing.  I wish Mike would have gotten pictures of the kids faces when they found out about the bedtime!  Mike had Maysen wave her wand and the moving sign thing in the playroom.  That is when her prize was revealed.  Stockton couldn't believe it!  Jorja was really sad.  Both of their faces were priceless.

Maysen wanted a yellow cake with store bought chocolate icing.  Not very exciting, but it made it easy for me.

After cake we 'kidnapped' my dad and took him to Cold Stone.  When the kids turn an even number, they can have a party if they want.  When they turn an odd number, they can choose where to go to eat.  Maysen chose Cold Stone.  That was not quite what we were thinking when we started this arrangement.  Oh well.  My dad gave Maysen her present while we were there.  He wrote her a poem.

"On Turning Fifteen"

There's something concerning the number fifteen

That makes it uniquely unique;

You're halfway to thirty--smack dab in between,

And a fourth way to sixty--don't freak!

Get a grip, hold on tight, suck it up, though it out;

Your best years are lying ahead;

It won't serve you well for to grumble and pout,

So perk up and be happy instead.

To begin this new "happiness" phase of your life,

Jollification is justified;

To relieve you from pressures of school causing strife,

I'll step forward to be your own guide.

So, I've got a plan that involves Monday night,

And a seat set aside just for you;

At seven o'clock they'll turn down the light;

We'll watch the boys "pick a pocket or two."

Maysen was excited.  The two plays she has wanted to see was Wicked and Oliver.  Maysen and I took care of Wicked in July, now she'll get to see Oliver with my dad.  That will be fun for her.

Jorja had a hard time going to bed without Maysen.  She was so sad. She said, "Am I never going to sleep with her again?"  I tried to explain that she still would be able to sleep with her, just sometimes she won't fall asleep with her.  When Mike and I tucked Maysen into bed, we peaked at Jorja.  She was sleeping with a picture of her and Maysen. What a sweet little princess.  I wish I could help her, but I'm not sure what the best solution is.

Jorja

Free Verse

While I was exploring, I went in the caves

to find that a crystal was all that remained

it was spinning around and sparkling so

giving an orange radiant glow

a glittering light and stars that surround

and giving a bouncing xylophone sound

I'd never seen beauty this sharp and intense

then I sold it on Ebay for 50¢

                                                ---Stockton

Diamonte (Diamond Poem)

Summer

warm, relaxing

running, seeing, smiling

free, fun, freezing, white

shivering, fighting, frowning

cold, working

Winter

                        --Stockton     

Magic

My dad called and asked if we would watch Max today so he could go to the adult session of Stake Conference.  Little did he know it came with conditions!  Maysen has been working on a poem for her English class.  She was quite stuck at one point and we had no idea how to help her.  She also wanted to get the meter right throughout the entire poem.  My dad came a little early to help.  We worked on it with her while he was gone.  Then when my dad came back, they stayed until 10:30 finishing it up.  THANKS DAD!  Her teacher is turning these into books to give to a first grade class.  She also had to have 14 literary devices throughout the poem.  Like alliteration, metaphor, anaphora, gerund, subjunctive mood....you get the idea.  I have no idea what most of these things even mean!  I'm not sure if she was able to get all of them, but she decided to call it good!  Anyway, I think Maysen is planning on making sure all the punctuation is correct, but this is what they came up with.

Mama...    Will you teach me magic?

"My sweet little child," my dear mother said

"If you try it so soon you could turn your hair red.

You know it takes practice to really know how

If you were of age I would teach you right now.

Cheer up, Mary Ann, and let your smile shine.

I promise to teach you the day you turn nine.

Magic is hard, even for me.

You'll grow soon enough; just wait and see."

But...   I want to do magic now...

"You don't look like Mary, you've lost your sweet smile.

Come over and talk to me, stay for awhile.

Or if you're desperate you can go look for Jane.

The last time I looked she was making it rain."

"Oh thank you!" I cried as I scrambled away.

"A fantastic idea!  I'll ask right away!"

"What do you want?"  My sister was busy.

"If I don't clean this mess Mom will be in a tizzy."

"I want to learn magic," I said, being bold.

"You'll show me now, won't you?  You're fourteen years old!"

"You?" snorted Jane with her nose in the air.

"What a request!  I'm surprised you would dare!

Teaching you magic would be a mistake.

I think if that happened I'd jump in the lake!

I don't mean to be rude--, really I don't

But teach you some magic?  I certainly won't."

"What is the matter?" Fred wanted to know.

You shouldn't be out in this icy cold snow."

"I'm running away," I told him right then.

"I don't want to come back here ever again!"

Come into the house."  He opened the door.

"Have my hot chocolate and I will make more."

Sitting inside made me feel so much better,

but sharing my wish made my face get much redder.

Magic, I think, would be such a delight.

I know what I'd do if I could do it right.

I'd travel across the whole world divine,

I'd break all the boundaries of distance and time.

I'd float in the air or I'd make my hands glow,

I do not care what, but I just want to go!

If I want to get good then I need to start now,

There's no time to waste, but I need to know how!

Yet no one will teach me, it's like I'm a bother.

Not Mama or Jane, not even my father.

To them it must seem that I'm not worth the trouble,

It seems that to them I'm as small as a bubble.

"Aha!" replied Fred "but that's where you are wrong

You know that they're right.  You've known all along.

You're not that pathetic or even naive,

You're too young to have rabbits pop out of your sleeve."

"You'll never get anywhere thinking like that,

So stand up, and zip up and put on your hat.

You're still just a sprout, you have time left to grow,

And when you get big you will put on a show.

But until you do that you've a life yet to live.

Take my advice, enjoy life as a kid.

I thought about that as I sat in my chair.

Should I really believe him?  Did I even dare?

"I'll try to be patient, I guess I'll learn how.

It's just . . .

I wanted to do magic now!"

Fred considered my words and stood up with a grin.

"I'll find you a pot to put a seed in.

I want you to care for it, you'll see what I mean

and before you know it the leaves will turn green."

As time moved along then I started to see

The flower that grew was a great deal like me.

And now it's so big, but it started so small.

The magic of life is the best gift of all.

From Maysen

At the beginning of the year

I struggled a little bit,

But by working hard I've met loose ends

And made the pieces fit.

Now math is easy as 1-2-3,

But science was a drag like gravity.

English is superb,

Francais, c'est bon,

But I think I've a right to be glad we're almost done.

Art has been colorful in more ways than one,

Gym's still a pain in my side, but volleyball is fun.

I guess I could say knowledge has made me rich

(Though even the thought of Health is bound to make me itch!)

I've worked hard this year and my grades are rather high

I'm glad I have had you as the year has gone by.

Limerick

I never thought I might

ever see the sight

of pirate bananas

wearing bandanas

and guess what? I was right.

--Stockton

Letter From Marie

Stockton got a letter from Marie today. Well, late last night I checked the mail - so today was when Stockton actually received it. The letter was practically in pieces. It was in another envelope that basically said 'sorry we ruined your letter...we really do care about it so we got it to you fast.' Which wasn't fast at all because Brett thought the letter would have gotten to us a long time ago!

Anyway, Stockton loved it. He smiled the entire time he was reading it and then asked me to keep it. I hope Marie doesn't mind, but this is what her letter says:

Dear Stockton,

I'm (Brett) transcribing for Marie. -- I want to show my rhymes to you. I like to write. I like to fly in the air forever. I like to play all games. I like to push my baby in the toy stroller. I like to sell things. I don't know any more rhymes. Here are some rhymes: fine, tine, pine, gine, ringing, binging, danging, banging.

--That's all she said, but she wanted to send you a rhyme. We did it together and it's her first poem. We were having family home evening, talking about family and Marie is always talking about Stockton, and a video she likes to watch when Stockton is making her laugh.

Here's our great poem:

I got a video of you jumping on the bed

and falling on your head

It was lots of fun

laughing at Stockton

Sometimes you'd smack

Your head and your back

I think your poems are fun

So I wanted to try one.

That's all we got. Thanks for being a great cousin.

MARIE

P.S. Marie says she wants to say: Playing games is lots of fun for you to do.

I LOVE MARIE!!! (That was Stephanie by the way) She is so adorable! Three more months until I can see her again! I wonder if she still has that way cute Minnie Mouse voice? I can't wait to see Mina walking too!!! Thanks for the letter Marie. We LOVED it!

Frog Poem

Bark

Amphibian

Really great hops

Kind and friendly

Insect eating

Near water

Green and white

Tree lovers

Rainforest

Entertaining

Excellent tree climbers

Fantastic

Ready to catch a meal

Only males bark

Great

Slimy when wet

--Jorja

Winter, the Artist

Every year,

overnight,

Winter paints the

world white.

He's in the clouds,

hidden from you,

no matter WHAT your

point of view.

If he can close

the schools, then he's

just created a

masterpiece!

--Stockton

Figgletrot

I'm on my way to Figgletrot,

I've heard it's west of 'ere.

Just follow the setting sun

Straight on 'til mornin' come.

I'm on my way to Figgletrot,

With nothin' but my cap.

I'm chasin' after the setting sun,

The moon is chasin' me'

The stars can see to Figgletrot,

I heard it long ago,

That you'd better run to Figgletrot

Before the sun sinks low.

It follows me to Figgletrot,

The moon it never goes,

Never strays from path of light

The way the sharp wind blows.

The breeze leads far from Figgletrot,

Promising joy and peace and rest.

But wind I'll ne'r follow,

To the evil Dragon's nest.

I'm almost there to Figgletrot,

Atop the mountain crest,

Where the Lion waits for me,

And I can finally rest.

It was worth the fight to Figgletrot,

Though struggles that I had,

The Dragon n'er shall reach me,

And try to turn me bad.

The Lion rules o'er Figgletrot.

The Dragon is his bane,

But no longer live in fear,

When light shall rule again.

But alas my dear old brother,

The path he did not see,

He followed after wind wisp,

And flames now lick his cheeks.

And though I live in Figgletrot,

With wonders to behold,

Where with Dragon now he lies,

With Lion now I go.

He'll never taste of Figgletrot,

Of glory and of light.

He followed tempting breezes,

And promises of night.

The Lion rules o'er Figgletrot,

The Dragon down below,

Come now you flock of sheep,

And bask in mountain glow.

So follow me to Figgletrot,

With cap and trust and faith,

And ne'r shall you wander

To taste of Dragon flame.

--Maysen Smith

Suspicious

Would you get suspicious that I had a party
if I came to class five minutes tardy?

A second is short and everyone knows
five minutes is only three hundred of those.

So don't blame me if you think I made up lies,
'cause even an hour can prove that time flies.
--Stockton

Stockton

Stockton

Funny, Smart, Mathletic, Loving

Sibling of Maysen, Jorja and Preston

Lover of Video Games, Computer, Little Brothers

Who feels Smart, Loving and Caring

Who fears Failing, School, and Death

Who would like to see another world, robots,

and his brother grow up

Resident of Villa Rica, Georgia

Smith

--Maysen

The Fine of 1899

In 1899,

Grandpa Jiggsy had to pay a fine.

It was for a weird reason,

it could've been a bit more decent,

he had to pay it up

FOR SINGING!

Two dollars was a lot back then!

That peculiar event

happened at the bar!

The elder was completely drunk!

And so far,

this message has spreaded to every person, one and all...

"Never drink alcohol!"

Grandpa Jiggsy went robe!

The message has spreaded

around the globe!

Currently, everybody's using

their earlobe!

Oh dear! Use your ear, then you can hear...

"Never drink beer!"

Chorus:

Hi Ho, We'll never be drunk!

We'll never be drinking that horrible gunk!

If you do, when you sleep on the top bunk,

it won't hold your weight and you'll fall with a THUNK!

It happened in the past century,

and then it went a decade before that!

Never drink or smoke cigars!

Or else you'll see that you're so fat!

Because Grandpa Jiggsy had to pay a fine,

this thing made it go over the line!

He had to lose the cash

FOR SINGING!

Two dollars was a lot back then!

So I'll tell you all...

"Never drink alcohol!"

Chorus x 2

--Stockton--

Happy Mothers' Day!

I know that flowers are OK.

But you're not getting a bouquet.

I thought about a chocolate treat.

But all you can do with that is eat.

Lots of gifts to give are easy.

And all of those are really cheesy.

Like pizza pie. It's very classic.

We need something kind of magic.

This poem is the way to go.

It's a way to let you know

that I take time on Mothers' day.

I don't buy gifts off E-Bay.

With all these reasons, it is true

that there is proof that I love you.

---Stockton