Be Thankful- Poem by Me!!!

what could she do, if given the chance?
would she write a world famous song, play, or dance?
or uncover history secrets untold?
who knows what her future would hold

maybe she’d find the cure to cancer
become a pop star, writer, or dancer
or maybe become a great politician
or lead a space team on a mission

any of this could be
if she lived in our blessed country
but she lives in a batey
and struggles each day

to survive

while we struggle with what clothes to wear
or how to fix and do our hair
or where to buy some brand new shoes
our selfish greedy pointless blues

we worry about what food to eat
about eating too much or getting obese
while her belly’s probably empty today
and for the next few days it will stay that way

do not waste what has been give to you
for you have the chance to change the world
be thankful for what you do have and don’t ask for more
you are lucky to live on American shores

if you think your existence is full of strife
go on and switch places-
she would gladly live your life

Eyes on the Prize

Everyone has goals in life. Each goal is an obstacle course, and you must complete it to succeed in that goal. But, to win in this course, you have to get on your belly and crawl through the mud. There is no way around it, and it is the last part. You can’t jump over it or run around it. It is bad while you are doing it, but you are doing it for a purpose, and once you are out of the mire, and you cross the finish line, and you feel a sense of pride, and suddenly the mud doesn’t seem so bad, because you have completed the course. Santiago, the main character from Ernest Hemingway’s The Old Man and the Sea, must face many obstacles in his goal of catching the great marlin. He has to fight against his emotions, the creatures of the sea, and physical pain.

When Santiago heads out to sea again, he hasn’t caught a fish in 84 days, and Manolin hasn’t been able to help him because his parents believe that Santiago is bad luck. Alone on the open ocean, any other man would give up, but he remains optimistic and is patient enough to wait for a fish to bite. But, even when Santiago does hook the fish, loneliness begins to creep in. He says, “If the boy were here. If the boy were here” (83), because he is lonely and believes that catching the fish would be easier with the boy. Santiago probably felt kind of nostalgic too.Santiago’s emotions almost prevent him from being able to succeed, but he controls them because he knows that he can do it. This really shows you that Santiago is prideful of what he does and knows his abilities, though he isn't arrogant. If wasn’t confident in what he was capable of, and devoted to his work, he never would’ve known how to overcome such overwhelming emotions.

Out on the ocean, Santiago has to face the ominous predators of the sea. He has to fight the marlin to kill it, and ward the aggressive sharks away from it once it was dead. When he is catching the marlin, his hands are bleeding and he is in pain. Some men might say that the marlin had won the fight and release it, but not Santiago. And once he does catch it, the worst is yet to come. Sharks strike and start eating the marlin. “When [Santiago] saw him coming he knew that this was a shark that had no fear at all and would do exactly what he wished” (101). The old man understands how dangerous these things are, yet he still goes up against them, and risks his life for his job. Couldn’t he just have caught another marlin, or were there more important things at risk? Why did catching this marlin that day mean so much? To prove an old man could still catch fish? To gain back the trust of Manolin’s parents so he could have a helper? Or was there something different? His objective was unknown. The loss of most of his marlin seemed to upset Santiago, but he keeps positive spirits. “The old man paid no attention to [the sharks] and did not pay attention to anything except steering. He only noticed how lightly and how well the skiff sailed now there was no great weight beside her” (119). This tells us that Santiago is sanguine.

Another thing that Santiago has to endure is great physical pain. While catching the marlin and fighting the sharks, Santiago is apathetic and bleeding. Also, his hands are cramping. It says in the text that “[Santiago] felt faint and sick and he could not see well” (94). This lets you know that Santiago's pain is sincere. Pain can be overwhelming sometimes, to the point where it is unbearable. Some people (including me) stop functioning if they get a stubbed toe or a bee sting, but Santiago is able to deal with his throbbing pain and catch the fish, proving he is tougher than he seems.

Overall, I believe that knowing the how-to of something is not the only thing one needs to succeed. You need ambition, wits, strength, confidence, and a reason to complete your goal. You can do anything if you put your eyes on the prize and focus only on your goal!

Uglies Book Review

3rd Quarter Outside Reading Book Review
Uglies by Scott Westerfeld. SIMON PULSE, 2005 Genre: Fiction
Uglies is the first book in a trilogy which includes Pretties (the second book), and Specials (third). The story takes places in a futuristic place called Uglyville, where, at the age of 16, you get an operation making you pretty and move to New Prettytown. But not all the Uglies are sure they want to be pretty. Some will run away to the Smoke, where many non-pretties live, but the government (AKA Special Circumstances) wants everyoene to become pretty. When a girl named Shay escapes to Smoke, Special Circumstances gives her almost sixteen year old friend Tally Youngblood (the main character) a choice- lead them to Smoke and betray her, or never become pretty. Ever.
From School Library Journal:
“Ethical concerns will provide a good source of discussion as honesty, justice, and free will are all oppressed in this well-conceived dystopia. Characterization, which flirts so openly with the importance of teen self-concept, is strong, and although lengthy, the novel is highly readable with a convincing plot that incorporates futuristic technologies and a disturbing commentary on our current public policies. Fortunately, the cliff-hanger ending promises a sequel.” -Susan W. Hunter
Uglies shows (I think) what will happen if people became so obsessed with their appearance that nothing else matters. To them, their world is a Utopia, and the Smokies are the only people who see that it isn’t one (and the Special Circimstances). It reminds me a lot of the book The Giver by Lois Lowry. I read that book a few years ago, and it’s the same plotline- a futuristic utopia that isn’t a utopia at all.
Scott Westerfeld uses many similes and metaphors in his descriptions. It really helps you get an idea of what he is talking about in the story.
“Her whole body writhed like a snake in its death throes.” Page 301
I really liked this book, and I thought it gave a good message about being pretty on the inside matters more than being pretty on the outside. I hope to read the rest of this series as soon as I can get my hands on them.

My Dog Sasha

This is Sasha. She is a two year old bluetick coonhound who is slightly neurotic, and, as you can see by the look on her face, has something terribly wrong up in her head. She has many fears includong massage chairs, school buses, balloons, our cat, and the dark.

Beleive it or not, she's actually pretty smart in the tricks department. She can do the ordinary- sit, lay down, come, stay, shake hands- the extraordinary- high five, speak, roll over, smile- and the extraextraordinary- bow, play dead, spin in circle and balance a treat on her nose!

Sasha's many hobbies include annoying the cat, running away to our neighbor's house, eating things she shouldn't be- like six layer chocolate cake (and no, she didn't get sick), playing with other dogs, meeting new people, going to the vet (really, she likes it), destroying our possesions, and all that other good stuff. She also loves lounging around in front of our fire.
Despite her multiple flaws, she can occasionally be normal. One of her good characteristics is that she doesn't have a mean bone in her body- she is friendly to all people and dogs (even if they bite her or hurt her, she won't bite back- it's happened!). She has really good bloodlines too- her dad was a regional champion. She is completely purebred. She is a very good dog................sometimes!

Paradise

In the middle of New Mexico, in the middle of nowhere, you can find the burnt remains of a barn, and a house. That’s where I lived. It used to be beautiful- lilies and orchids growing around the small off-white house. I lived with my mother- our own secluded, perfect world, no one for more than 100 miles on either side. I never would have guessed that one day my life would come crashing down and change me forever.

I remember when I was 12, my cousin Leon came to visit. He lives 125 miles south of us. We hardly ever have visitors, so it was a treat. He brought a gift for me- a lamb from his family’s pasture. I was so happy, because even though we already had seven sheep, this one was special. She had a black face and legs, while all our other sheep were white. I named her Consentida, which means “spoiled” in Spanish, because that’s what she was. I gave her fruits and vegetables everyday for a treat, and she followed me around outside and in the barn. She was my best friend because I had no human friends. I loved all our animals. We had the sheep, two goats, a small covey of chickens, four dogs, a cow and a horse. I spent a lot of time with them and gave them all names. It was so placid just to sit in the barn with the animals and think. But, it wasn’t all fun and games. We relied on our animals to live. Our chickens gave us eggs to eat, and our goats and cows gave us milk, cheese, butter, and cream. Our dogs (three sheepdog, Bammy, Laddie, and Ginger, and a mutt named Scruffy) protected us and the sheep from coyotes and other creatures. We made most of our clothes from our sheep’s wool. Our horse, Häst, a handsome dun and white pinto stallion, was used for my mother’s once a year trips into town to get our supplies of flour, sugar, and salt by selling wool, milk, and eggs. I had never been to town, but it sounded wonderful. Mother would bring me back fruits and penny candy, and buttons and patches of colorful fabric that I could sew on my clothes. The days when mother came back were like a second Christmas.

One night, October 17th 1950,when I was 16, there was a storm. I hated storms, but I knew I was safe in my house. Or at least I thought so. As I lay in my bed, I realized something was wrong. The thunder was too loud, it was a constant roar in my ear, and the lightning was flashing so brightly it was as if it was day. I called for my mother and she hurried in, and we watched the storm from my window. Less than a minute later, a bolt of lightning struck the roof of our barn, I watched in horror as the hay loft caught on fire in seconds, and smoke started pouring out of it. I could hear the clamor of the frightened animals inside the barn. My mother and I ran out of the house, the dogs right on our heels, and rushed out to the barn. We flung the doors open, and the sheep, chickens, and goats came running out. The dogs immediately began to round up the sheep and goats, trying to keep them near the house. I ran into the barn and untied Häst, and he galloped out of the barn. I untied Daisy and pulled her out of the barn by her halter. For a few moments I thought that the worst was over, but I was wrong. Smoldering pieces of the barn were drifting through the air and one hit the house. It caught quickly and began burning up. I screamed and began to cry. This couldn't be happening, not to me, not when life was so perfect. I couldn't stand it. I began to hyperventilate, choking on my own breath. My mother and stood in shock, just staring at our once-beautiful house.

I week later, I assessed what was going on. The dogs had managed to keep our remaining sheep around, and I was able to catch one of our chickens. Daisy seemed fine and Häst showed up after three days. Through the rubble of the house I had recovered a cast iron fry-pan and a small pot, so we ate small eggs with wild tea leaves But as I sat by my mother's side in the grass, I was scared. She was coughing, and very weak. Five of the sheep and both goats had died after exhibiting similar symptoms. I was so worried, and no idea what to do but sit by her side and hold her hand. As I laid my head down on the grass that night, and whispered, "I love you," to my mother, Consentida came over and curled up near my feet. I knew I was safe- the dogs were always on guard- but I felt so utterly paltry and helpless.

I woke up the next morning and stretched my arms. I got up slowly, and then I realized that something was wrong. I turned to my mother. I tapped her hand, and it felt cold. I recoiled and then touched her hand again. No response. Frantically, I brought my hand to her throat to find a pulse. Nothing. Now I was completely alone.

The next few days were a blur, my memories of that time are very vague, probably because I don't want to remember.I remember crying, digging mother's grave with a singed shovel, crying, burying mother, crying, sleeping, crying, eating and placing rocks in the shape of a cross on mothers grave. I haed taken her gold locket off her neck and placed it around mine, so I would never forget her.



I don't know how long after mother's death I left. One week? Two? I just decided I had to leave. I would find my cousin Leon. When he was here two years ago, he said he lived to the south of us, and his family's home bordered a small town called Chloride. Maybe I could live with them. But what of the animals?I loved them all so much, and I couldn't bear to lose anyone else, even Pollita, the chicken. I knew Leon's family had a bevy of animals, what would a few extra be to them?

I decided I was to set out in the morning, and bring all the animals with me.

A saddle had survived the fire, as well as some pitchforks, saddle bags, some rope, and milk buckets. I put the saddle on Häst, and made crude reins by tying some rope to either side of Häst's halter. Then, I attached a rope to the rigging ring of Häst's saddle, and attached the other end to Daisy's halter. I hung two milk buckets on either side of Daisy's broad back, almost like saddle bags for a cow. In one bucket, I put a fry-pan, and in the other, some grass, and Pollita. Lucky she is a small chicken. As for the sheep, Consentida would follow me, I knew that, and the dogs could keep the other two sheep under control. It took me till mid-afternoon to get everything ready, and I had only taken a hiatus to get a small drink of water from a spring. I climbed onto Häst's back, and took a deep breath. Then, I lightly tapped Häst with my heels, and my journey began..

***

"Come on, finish the story!" said Lynn. I was so lucky to have such amazing cousins- Leon, Lynn, and Lucy-and my mother's wonderful sister, Andrea, and her husband, Bill. They are all so altruistic and I love them so much. They had taken me in even though my clothes were tattered and I was a wreck. Lynn and Lucy were both 8, and they loved to hear the story of how I came to live with them, even though I had told it many times already.

"Where was I again?" I asked.

"You just began to go with Häst!" replied Lucy.

"Oh yeah, alright then. I traveled for many days and night, in the sweltering daytime and the coolness of the dark nights. I had no idea what day it was, or where I was. I lived off of chickens eggs, milk, and wild berries. Then, around noon one day, I found a road. It was a very hidden road, made up of dirt, with logs and vines across it. But it was my best bet, so I followed it all night and into the next day,and I was about to give up when I saw a small wooden sign with an arrow and written on it was CHLORIDE. I urged Häst into a trot, wishing I could go faster but the sheep were too slow. The dogs seemed to sense my excitement and left the sheep (who luckily followed me) to run alongside Häst, barking happily. About ten minutes later, I saw a building. I capriciously leapt off Häst and ran in, where I awoke a small old man, who was very startled at my appearance. I assumed he was the sheriff because he had a small gun tucked in his belt.

'Do you know where I can find the Carbajal's?' I said quickly.

'Take the road a little ways down, then take a left, a left, and a right,' he said.

I ran out and hopped on Häst. I went as fast as I could without losing the sheep. Pollita looked a little upset being jostled around in her bucket, so I slowed down a bit. Left, left, right. I glanced around, trying to see anyone I recognised. Then, I saw Leon. He was in a pasture on the side of a barn shearing a sheep.

'Leon!' I yelled and he ran out of the yard.

'Mel?' he asked. And- "

"And then you told him what had happened and you met us and you lived happily ever after!" exclaimed Lynn.

"Of course!" I said happily, "Hey Luce, wanna go for a ride on Häst?"

"Yeah, let's go!" she exclaimed happily. They hadn't had a horse before, so getting Häst was a treat, and Lucy had taken a real liking to him. Luckily they allowed all of the animals to stay, because they are an agrarian family. Our sheep joined their hundred, and Daisy became their third cow. Pollita just hangs around the place with about ten other free range chickens, and the dogs joined numerous other farm dogs.

We went out to the pasture with Häst's reins, and hopped on him bareback. I urged him into a canter. Bammy, Laddie, Scruffy, and Ginger spotted us and ran at Häst's heels, as we rode into the huge pasture. I slowed Häst to a walk, and heard a bleat from behind me. It was Consentida. I smiled, because I was so happy here. Who knew that after all life's twist and turns, it could be straightened out again? But I hadn't forgotten the past. I still wear my mother's small heart-shaped locket, and I think about her now and again, about how much she would love it here. To some, this is a ramshackle little home and a barn full of animals in New Mexico, but to me, it is paradise.