So, life goes on. I hope you have had a chance to read the summery of my story before I removed it. Mom says it's time to move on to another story, and she is probably right.
But I'm not finished with this one yet. I have to finish this one. It's my favorite, and I've only just begun to fill it up. You know, flesh it out. Or, at least I think I am fleshing it out. It is probably just fine the way it is, especially for someone's first all written story, but I keep coming up with ideas, connections and plot. Not changes, improvements. ;)
I have others, many others, ideas that take up pages and pages. The next book I will work on is going to be a science fiction. And it has a lesson in it.
So any way, Christmas.
We caroled to more people than last year, made less Christmas treats than last, had no snow, but all together I think it was great. What Christmas wasn't? My grandparents are serving a mission in Ukraine, and sent some pretty cool stuff. My favorite, was my dad's shop-key. I wouldn't know how it's really spelled, but it's the big and tall fuzzy hats that we would call the Russian hats that are sometimes on nut-crackers. I wore it to church the next Sunday and my Young Women's president said I looked like a Russian princess. The only thing was that it was way too big for my head, but I didn't care, it was authentic. And it looked very nice with the outfit I was wearing.
But we had no snow. Not enough to count, that is. When winter comes the other thing to look forward to is sledding down the gigantic, steep hills behind our house. Fast and fun. It isn't unusual to wear out several sleds a winter.
However, there is a pond near the base of the best one, so, you have to be careful.
(And a creek at the bottom of the one that would have been better,)
But, most always it is frozen, (the pond, not the creek,) if there's enough snow to sled.
Except once.
Joseph thought it would be fun to sled down and then skid across the pond ice, so he went, belly on a sled, all the way to the bottom, but he didn't skid on the pond ice. We saw him stop in the middle of the pond. Nothing happened.
"Hey Jo, get back here with that sled, it's my turn." we said.
Still he did not move.
And then, we heard a "Whoa-yikes!" And he jumped up---and that's when the ice cracked.
It is funny to think back on that. It is only a shallow pond, four feet deep at the most, but he was sure cold. Joseph and ice. There are a lot of stories of the two.
He told us when he reached the top of the hill that he was stuck. That where he stopped was less than an inch thick. He was afraid that if he moved it would crack. Don't know how long he was planning to stay there before the ice broke. ;)
There are other times when we dare each other to belly crawl on pond ice like polar bears, to see who can get to the thinnest ice possible without breaking it, and of course, we are not always as brave as we want the other to think, and at the first little crack, sometimes it's a good idea to scoot for your warm and dry clothes sake.
But no ice contests this year. It was too warm a December. But there's still February. It's suppose be the coldest month of the year by west plains.
But I'm not finished with this one yet. I have to finish this one. It's my favorite, and I've only just begun to fill it up. You know, flesh it out. Or, at least I think I am fleshing it out. It is probably just fine the way it is, especially for someone's first all written story, but I keep coming up with ideas, connections and plot. Not changes, improvements. ;)
I have others, many others, ideas that take up pages and pages. The next book I will work on is going to be a science fiction. And it has a lesson in it.
So any way, Christmas.
We caroled to more people than last year, made less Christmas treats than last, had no snow, but all together I think it was great. What Christmas wasn't? My grandparents are serving a mission in Ukraine, and sent some pretty cool stuff. My favorite, was my dad's shop-key. I wouldn't know how it's really spelled, but it's the big and tall fuzzy hats that we would call the Russian hats that are sometimes on nut-crackers. I wore it to church the next Sunday and my Young Women's president said I looked like a Russian princess. The only thing was that it was way too big for my head, but I didn't care, it was authentic. And it looked very nice with the outfit I was wearing.
But we had no snow. Not enough to count, that is. When winter comes the other thing to look forward to is sledding down the gigantic, steep hills behind our house. Fast and fun. It isn't unusual to wear out several sleds a winter.
However, there is a pond near the base of the best one, so, you have to be careful.
(And a creek at the bottom of the one that would have been better,)
But, most always it is frozen, (the pond, not the creek,) if there's enough snow to sled.
Except once.
Joseph thought it would be fun to sled down and then skid across the pond ice, so he went, belly on a sled, all the way to the bottom, but he didn't skid on the pond ice. We saw him stop in the middle of the pond. Nothing happened.
"Hey Jo, get back here with that sled, it's my turn." we said.
Still he did not move.
And then, we heard a "Whoa-yikes!" And he jumped up---and that's when the ice cracked.
It is funny to think back on that. It is only a shallow pond, four feet deep at the most, but he was sure cold. Joseph and ice. There are a lot of stories of the two.
He told us when he reached the top of the hill that he was stuck. That where he stopped was less than an inch thick. He was afraid that if he moved it would crack. Don't know how long he was planning to stay there before the ice broke. ;)
There are other times when we dare each other to belly crawl on pond ice like polar bears, to see who can get to the thinnest ice possible without breaking it, and of course, we are not always as brave as we want the other to think, and at the first little crack, sometimes it's a good idea to scoot for your warm and dry clothes sake.
But no ice contests this year. It was too warm a December. But there's still February. It's suppose be the coldest month of the year by west plains.
