What is reading FOR?
Reading is for your heart 💚
because characters teach you to CARE
Reading is for your arms 💪
because reading teaches you to
reach out to others 👫👬ðŸ‘
Reading is for your feet
because reading takes you places 🥾
Reading is for your belly
because you will be hungry and thirsty
for knowledge 🤔
Reading is for your brain ðŸ§
because learning is always a good thing
READING is for being a
strong and good person.
Introducing...
I have wanted to make a comics style story about triplet octopi learning to speak French for a very long time.
The photography and the formatting is going to be hard for me, but you can watch me grow as I try this activity!
Wish me luck and come back to see how I'm doing.
I have a lot of other hobbies, so please be patient!
-Dawn
Red Skies at Night
After dinner Aunt June and I went out for a walk. It was strange for just the two of us to go for a walk. Usually everyone goes. Everyone likes to go because Uncle Mark lives on the beach. I hadn't seen her in about a year since she moved to Arizona, but she flew out here for our annual family reunion. So, it was weird to be out for a walk with just my aunt.
At first we did the usual going-for-a-walk-on-a-beach things. Touch our toes in the water and scream at how cold it is, pick up a few shells, and look for sea glass. Then she started talking about when she and my mom and Uncle Mark were kids. I already knew they grew up in Portland and that Grammy and Grampy owned an ice cream shop near this beach.
I started to lose interest. Why do grown-ups always talk about the happy times when they were kids? I was distracted by the most amazing red skies sunset. 'Red skies at night, sailor's delight.'
I couldn't believe there can be so many colors in the same sky. The sun was a blood red dome on the water. Pinks, purples, peaches and reds splotched across the horizon and deep blues washed into the lightest baby blues the higher you looked. I was about to tell Aunt June about my art teacher and how the blue looked like watercolors but the reds looked like spilled tempera paints.
She was saying something about Uncle Mark wanting to be a dentist when he was a teenager. That was news to me. My family doesn't really talk about their teen years. I was wondering on that when I was about to say I want to be an artist (of course she already knew that) exactly when she said 'artist.'
"Jinx!" I thought but didn't say because I hadn't actually said anything out loud. Aunt June continued talking as if I wasn't even there and she was talking to herself. Which, to be fair was true, since I wasn't really listening. But I was now.
At first I assumed she was talking about me, but she wasn't. It took me a few minutes to realize she was talking about my mother. I was absolutely speechless. My mother never showed any interest in art, and barely any in my art. Questions stormed around in my head. I just let Aunt June continue her remembering. Uncle Mark never became a dentist, mom never became an artist, and Aunt June never traveled across the country (except for moving to Arizona, I thought). She sounded so regretful that it made me sad.
Suddenly she stopped and grabbed my hand and smiled. She said something about how my family was very good at letting things go. That was true, I supposed. She never would have been saying these things if the others had come for the walk with us. Something about the way she said it, though, made me feel like it was a warning. I had no idea what to say to that.
We turned for the walk back up the beach. The sky had turned darker. Red skies at night is supposed to mean a lovely day ahead. Instead I felt like changes were coming. And for some reason I felt older. Neither of us said anything on the way back. But I made some decisions. I was going to paint my mother the red skies at night. And I was going to ask her why she never mentioned wanting to be an artist.
found a stick a-waiting
thought it was a fishing pole
stuck the stick in a hole
he pulled out a big fat fish
dreamed t'was on a dinner dish
as the fish flopped on the ice
it did not need to think twice
right back down the hole it went
a-dreaming home the boy was sent
there he found his dinner plate
though he was wee bit late
Can you sing this poem?
Songs and poems are a lot alike.
Try it slow, or try it loud. However you'd like is fine.
Songs and poems are to play with.
Both songs and poems tell a story.
And like all stories, leave us wondering something.
Can sticks 'wait' for someone to come along?
If not, why would we say such a thing?
What do you think was on his dinner plate when he got home?
Could his dream be a hint?
I wrote this poem with a particular song in mind.
I'm not going to tell you which one!
Here is a hint:
* sing it as fast as you can
* with no pause between lines
* give the bold words extra power with your voice.
Have fun and have some fish for dinner!
Simon Says
A boy opened a box of chalk.
He took out one white stick of chalk.
He drew a dog on his chalkboard.
The dog became alive!
The boy's name is Simon.
The dog's name is Ruff.
"Ruff," said Simon, "Be my friend."
And so Ruff barked and was Simon's friend.
Simon drew a ball on the chalkboard.
The ball became real."Ruff," said Simon, "Fetch the ball!"
And so Ruff wagged his tail and fetched the ball.
Simon drew a bone.
The bone became real.
But Simon thought the bone was not much fun.
Simon drew a gumball machine on the chalkboard.
The gumball machine became real.
But Ruff wanted a gumball also, so Simon drew another quarter and
got another gumball. He gave the second gumball to Ruff.
They walked for a while chewing their gumballs.
Then Simon said, "Blow a bubble!"
And they both blew bubbles, which popped onto their faces and
made them laugh.
Soon it was time to go.
Simon erased the chalkboard and said,
"I'll see you next time, friend."
As an writer, I very much am inspired by things in 3s, books that I read, and by events that happen in real life. Some books and events are sad, but they belong in our hearts just the same. Sometimes what is not real helps us handle what is real.
This very very short story is based on the children's game Simon Says, is inspired by the children's television series Simon in the Land of Chalk Drawings, which was based on the children's books by Edward McLachlan, and is dedicated to a boy named Simon who liked bubblegum.
First Snow
by Marie Louise Allen
Snow makes whiteness where it falls.
The bushes look like popcorn balls.
And places where I always play
Look like somewhere else today.
Can you tell what is under the snow?
Luna thinks everyone should know some poetry by heart.
She is watching me shovel this year's first snow.
Do you like to name things?
Most kids do, I think.
You probably have named a doll or a stuffy.
How did you choose the name?
Some people name their house.
I named my property 'Hemlock Hollow' because I have a lot of hemlock trees and my house is down in a little dip in the land.
They are actually about 50 years old, but they are new to me.
It was hard to choose a name because I was undecided about naming them someone from my family tree or not. But I also wanted simple, short names.
So, say hello to Britta and Anders.
They are from Sweden, so those are Swedish names.
These two names are from my family tree. They are very common names in Sweden, and I actually have several Brittas and Anders in my history. My nephew has the middle name Anders, but there were no new baby girls in the family to name Britta.
Maybe your family can think of a name for your house or property.
Make it a good one!
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property: all the land and buildings on the land that you own.
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Words often have several meanings. Can you infer what a 'hollow' is in this passage? In this passage a hollow is a thing (noun). If you call something hollow, such as a hollow log, then it is describing word (adjective).
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artist credit: these candle holders were designed by Swedish artist Lizzie Velander, made in Sri Lanka, and sold by IKEA
