"Wonderful story, but not my style" - "Good story, you need a publisher" same ole story a dozen times ten. Duh!?! One publisher has held my manuscripts for 4 months. Are they lost in a stack or can they not bear to tell me my stories are no good? Maybe my stories are good, but I can't write! Oh well, on to the next group of 12. Thanks for letting me vent.
By the time I get published, I'll have a book of short stories!
Showing posts with label Children's story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Children's story. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
In A Funk
Yeah, I am in a funk. My thoughts are a bit scrambled right now, and my energy level is at a 5 on a scale of 1-10. I think maybe the ups and downs of the heat are the major cause.
The garden is like most mid summer gardens - just growing - not anything spectacular, but still producing squash, cabbage, okra, tomatoes, and peppers. Cucumbers are not doing a thing and I blame that on the erratic rain fall. The ground is drying out too much between the showers and the sun is hot as hades. I am waiting till late afternoon to turn some dirt for the late summer greens and decide on a spot for the potatoes. It is time to get them in the ground but as we have a real late frost, it will be okay.
It is really sad that we let the joy of the first shoots breaking the ground dissipate and the garden flourishes and we become apathetic in the harvest and maintenance. Melancholy, that is what I am today. Yesterday was a day of joy and today - melancholy.
The summer flowers are beautiful and all but the weakest are blooming with gusto. I can hardly see my gazing ball as the cosmos has grown so tall and thick as to shade it from view. The sunflowers are reaching for the hot sun and getting taller and taller. I know it is not the time, but I moved 2 elephant ears to a spot in my backyard garden. They had almost died from lack of sun and are not a deep green and putting out new growth. Right time or not, that was a good move.
I dropped by a local store the other day and they have dropped the prices on all seeds to a dime a pack. Good time to pick up some, put in the freezer and have ready for that early garden next spring. There were lots of different varieties of lettuce which can be container grown throughout the winter. I have a nice section of porch on the north side of the house that is protected from blowing winds and rain. It is the perfect place to winter the plants (covered of course) and to keep some nice winter container crops. Doesn't get any sun though so I have to move them during the week to the east side to keep them going.
On another subject-
My grandchildren are growing up and developing wonderful personalities. I have had such a pleasant summer with my grandchildren. The oldest girl ask me on Saturday why they were called grand children. My reply - because you are so great! On her last visit, she kissed the top on my head and told me I was beautiful - and everyone wonders why I love having them around! Can't wait till they come back!
Belle
The garden is like most mid summer gardens - just growing - not anything spectacular, but still producing squash, cabbage, okra, tomatoes, and peppers. Cucumbers are not doing a thing and I blame that on the erratic rain fall. The ground is drying out too much between the showers and the sun is hot as hades. I am waiting till late afternoon to turn some dirt for the late summer greens and decide on a spot for the potatoes. It is time to get them in the ground but as we have a real late frost, it will be okay.
It is really sad that we let the joy of the first shoots breaking the ground dissipate and the garden flourishes and we become apathetic in the harvest and maintenance. Melancholy, that is what I am today. Yesterday was a day of joy and today - melancholy.
The summer flowers are beautiful and all but the weakest are blooming with gusto. I can hardly see my gazing ball as the cosmos has grown so tall and thick as to shade it from view. The sunflowers are reaching for the hot sun and getting taller and taller. I know it is not the time, but I moved 2 elephant ears to a spot in my backyard garden. They had almost died from lack of sun and are not a deep green and putting out new growth. Right time or not, that was a good move.
I dropped by a local store the other day and they have dropped the prices on all seeds to a dime a pack. Good time to pick up some, put in the freezer and have ready for that early garden next spring. There were lots of different varieties of lettuce which can be container grown throughout the winter. I have a nice section of porch on the north side of the house that is protected from blowing winds and rain. It is the perfect place to winter the plants (covered of course) and to keep some nice winter container crops. Doesn't get any sun though so I have to move them during the week to the east side to keep them going.
On another subject-
My grandchildren are growing up and developing wonderful personalities. I have had such a pleasant summer with my grandchildren. The oldest girl ask me on Saturday why they were called grand children. My reply - because you are so great! On her last visit, she kissed the top on my head and told me I was beautiful - and everyone wonders why I love having them around! Can't wait till they come back!
Belle
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Strawberry Flavored Crickets
We have been fishing again. One day the fish were snubbing their noses at our meal worms and red wigglers, the next we got a nibble at the crickets, and then a slam dunk - strawberry flavored crickets landed a good dozen bream and one lost huge catfish.
Didn't have an apple core handy when we came in from fishing on the second trip, and had most of the hundred crickets we had taken left over, so Hubby dropped a couple of strawberries in the cricket bucket to hold them over until the next trip to the pond. Those crickets demolished the strawberries by morning, so I dropped in a couple more. That afternoon, the bream were hitting like crazy and we had now decided to use only strawberry flavored crickets.
Fishing is not good for anything but relaxing. Don't listen to the tall tales of how much exercise you get - you don't! I know it sounds good, but it just isn't true. It is addictive though. You will forget all about walking your 2 miles or swimming for an hour or most anything else you should be doing. And that isn't all - you want to go back over and over again. Housework, yardwork, feeding the animals are just not important. The fish are calling and you have to go!
It doesn't even matter whether you catch anything (but a bite once in a while makes it real nice). Find a creek bank (next to most bridges), a pond, a lake or a river and throw a hook in the water. Thoughts ramble through your head and problems seem to take care of themselves, worries watch completely away and relaxation sneaks up on you.
If you know of a child that has never been fishing, make time to take them - heck, invite their mom and dad along. they probably have never been either. Get kids out from in front of the TV and off the streets - take them fishing!
Didn't have an apple core handy when we came in from fishing on the second trip, and had most of the hundred crickets we had taken left over, so Hubby dropped a couple of strawberries in the cricket bucket to hold them over until the next trip to the pond. Those crickets demolished the strawberries by morning, so I dropped in a couple more. That afternoon, the bream were hitting like crazy and we had now decided to use only strawberry flavored crickets.
Fishing is not good for anything but relaxing. Don't listen to the tall tales of how much exercise you get - you don't! I know it sounds good, but it just isn't true. It is addictive though. You will forget all about walking your 2 miles or swimming for an hour or most anything else you should be doing. And that isn't all - you want to go back over and over again. Housework, yardwork, feeding the animals are just not important. The fish are calling and you have to go!
It doesn't even matter whether you catch anything (but a bite once in a while makes it real nice). Find a creek bank (next to most bridges), a pond, a lake or a river and throw a hook in the water. Thoughts ramble through your head and problems seem to take care of themselves, worries watch completely away and relaxation sneaks up on you.
If you know of a child that has never been fishing, make time to take them - heck, invite their mom and dad along. they probably have never been either. Get kids out from in front of the TV and off the streets - take them fishing!
Thursday, July 23, 2009
A Little Piece of A Tittle Tale
Tittle was a little mouse that lived on Belle's Farm. Tittle loved living on a farm, it made him a landowner rather than just a field mouse. Those field mice were always having to scavenge for food. Tittle, well he just stole corn from the chickens or if Mr. Farmer didn't put the feed in the barrels, he filled up straight from the feed sacks. Tittles just loved it when Mr. Farmer was too busy to put the feed away. Tittle could carry off enough to last for a week at least, then he didn't have to fight with Essie the hen for the corn. Essie could be really mean with that beak of hers and it was just too hot to being running from Essie.
Tittle didn't know why people didn't like mice. He was a perfectly good little mouse and he liked to think of himself as a one mouse cleanup crew. Tittle was really good at cleaning all the crumbs and droppings off a floor and it didn't take him anytime to do it.
He really wished Mrs. Farmer wouldn't chase him with that broom. Silly woman didn't she know he could slip right through that broom straw. You could tell the new Mrs. Farmer hadn't lived on a farm before. She really had no idea how to catch a mouse. Now the Mrs. Farmer that use to live on the farm was nothing to play with. She was always chasing Tittle with a wet mop and he learned to steer clear of the house when she lived there. No mouse could escape wet mop strings.
Anyway, Tittle wanted to get some of that feed stored so her could head to the creek. He thought he might have a bath today. As hot as it was it would cool him off and he was sure it would surprise his Mom. Taking a bath without being told to was always a great way to surprise Mom. Tittles was scurrying back and forth filling his corner with corn. One more trip ought to do it and he would be off to the cool water.
Tittles stopped. Dead still, he listened. Yep, there it was. He was through for the day. Slowly, slowly, he back away and then ran as fast as he could. A huge, mean old king snake was now guarding the feed sack. Where had he come from? Tittles had to warn Mom. He didn't want her caught. Everybody knew that mice were a king snakes favorite meal. "Mom, Mom" Tittle called.
"What in the world are you yelling about?" Mom answered.
"Oh, Mom, there is a king snake in the feed room of the barn" Tittle cried.
"Well, we will just have to stay out of the barn for a few days and let him see there is nothing there for him to eat and he will be own his way" Mom replied.
"But where will we go?" asked Tittle.
"To the field of course. That is where we came from" Mom said.
Tittle felt sad. He hadn't lived in the field before. He had always made fun of the field mice. They didn't have a nice barn to live in and had to look for food and ate all those weird berries and things. They slept under logs and in trees and oh, how he wished he hadn't been so mean to them. Now he had to go live with them. Oh, what was Tittle going to do?
Click on the title above for the whole story - Happy reading! Belle
Tittle didn't know why people didn't like mice. He was a perfectly good little mouse and he liked to think of himself as a one mouse cleanup crew. Tittle was really good at cleaning all the crumbs and droppings off a floor and it didn't take him anytime to do it.
He really wished Mrs. Farmer wouldn't chase him with that broom. Silly woman didn't she know he could slip right through that broom straw. You could tell the new Mrs. Farmer hadn't lived on a farm before. She really had no idea how to catch a mouse. Now the Mrs. Farmer that use to live on the farm was nothing to play with. She was always chasing Tittle with a wet mop and he learned to steer clear of the house when she lived there. No mouse could escape wet mop strings.
Anyway, Tittle wanted to get some of that feed stored so her could head to the creek. He thought he might have a bath today. As hot as it was it would cool him off and he was sure it would surprise his Mom. Taking a bath without being told to was always a great way to surprise Mom. Tittles was scurrying back and forth filling his corner with corn. One more trip ought to do it and he would be off to the cool water.
Tittles stopped. Dead still, he listened. Yep, there it was. He was through for the day. Slowly, slowly, he back away and then ran as fast as he could. A huge, mean old king snake was now guarding the feed sack. Where had he come from? Tittles had to warn Mom. He didn't want her caught. Everybody knew that mice were a king snakes favorite meal. "Mom, Mom" Tittle called.
"What in the world are you yelling about?" Mom answered.
"Oh, Mom, there is a king snake in the feed room of the barn" Tittle cried.
"Well, we will just have to stay out of the barn for a few days and let him see there is nothing there for him to eat and he will be own his way" Mom replied.
"But where will we go?" asked Tittle.
"To the field of course. That is where we came from" Mom said.
Tittle felt sad. He hadn't lived in the field before. He had always made fun of the field mice. They didn't have a nice barn to live in and had to look for food and ate all those weird berries and things. They slept under logs and in trees and oh, how he wished he hadn't been so mean to them. Now he had to go live with them. Oh, what was Tittle going to do?
Click on the title above for the whole story - Happy reading! Belle
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Just Like Granpa Taught Him
It was too hot now and he was hungry. Johnny had fished most of the afternoon - which he considered all day. A few small bream had nibbled at his bait, but they were too small to keep anyway. He pulled his cane pole in to check his bait and decided to move his cork up a bit and put on a fresh worm. If the water was anywhere near as hot as the air around him, the fish would go deep to cool off and he needed to be ready. Grandpa taught him that.
He slid further down the red dirt bank and sat on its cool moist dirt. He would love to just slide on in the water and forget the fishing. He pulled his cap down lower on his forehead and leaned back, just like Grandpa use to do.
Johnny sure wished Grandpa could go fishing with him now. They had been fishing buddies forever and had sure caught some good ones. Grandpa was kind of rough on him sometimes especially when he did dumb stuff like swishing the water with his pole or getting his hook caught in the tree limb. Grandpa was all business when it came to fishing. But Johnny had grown up a lot and he remembered what Grandpa had taught him. Grandpa couldn't make it down to the pond anymore since he had his stroke, but Johnny always filled him in on the fishing when he got back to the house. It made Grandpa smile that funny sad smile and sometimes he would laugh. Sometimes Johnny exaggerated a little to make Grandpa smile even more.
Johnny was sure feeling good sitting there in the cool dirt and thinking about Grandpa and fishing. His pole jumped, it sure did! Johnny sat up straight. Grandpa said you had to pay attention. The big one could hit at anytime. There it was again, but Johnny was ready this time and set the hook. He had him! It had to be a big one, that pole was bent almost in half. Johnny let him play the line, just like Grandpa said to do, and then started working him to the bank. He was holding on with all his might. Oh Boy! He wouldn't have to exaggerate this time. It was probably the biggest fish to ever come out of this old pond!
The catfish swam to the top and gave Johnny a good look at him. Johnny couldn't believe it. It was huge! And then something happened; he was gone. the line went limp, the pole straightened out and the big catfish was gone. Johnny almost wanted to cry. The line was flying in the breeze with no cork, no weight, no hook and NO fish.
Johnny grabbed his tackle box and headed across the dam up to the field. Grandpa wouldn't believe him, but he had to tell Grandpa so he could tell him what he had done wrong. Johnny's heart was so heavy he couldn't look up, he just shuffled along in his old tennis shoes and headed home. Johnny knew what was wrong, but he didn't want to think about it. That fishing line had been on that pole all through last summer and now half this summer. He hadn't wanted to take the time to change the line and put on a new hook and look what he missed. If had not been in such a hurry to get to the pond he would be bringing home a huge fish and a good story.
As Johnny got closer to home, he decided not to tell Grandpa about this fish. There was no need in both of them being downhearted. He would save it for another time when he was bringing home a catch and besides he didn't want Grandpa to know he hadn't taken care of his gear.
Grandpa was waiting on the back porch like Johnny knew he would be. He just smiled as Johnny walked by and said "better luck next time." Johnny shuffled past Grandpa and put his pole in the rack. "Yeah, it was really too hot this afternoon. I shouldn't have even gone down there early."
Johnny had been real quiet since coming in from fishing and Grandpa was pretty sure he knew what had happened. At the supper table Grandpa asked Johnny, "How big was it?"
"How big was what, Grandpa?"
"The fish that broke that line on your pole, how big was it?"
Johnny hadn't even thought about fixing his pole and he knew Grandpa noticed everything. "Grandpa that was the biggest fish I ever saw in that pond or any pond around here." And the story was told and re-told until bedtime and Grandpa didn't say one word about the old line on the pole. Grandpa knew Johnny was hurt over losing the fish and he also knew Johnny needed to put new line on the pole.
The next morning, Johnny found Grandpa on the back porch with Johnny's pole in his hand. Grandpa had put on new everything and it was ready to go again. Johnny put his arms around Grandpa and laid his head on his shoulder. Johnny didn't have to Grandpa he loved him or thank him for fixing up his pole or how much he missed him going to the pond with him - Grandpa knew, but Johnny told him anyway.
Late that afternoon Johnny headed back to the pond with his heart set on the big catfish. He wouldn't lose him this time; he would bring him in just like Grandpa taught him.
He slid further down the red dirt bank and sat on its cool moist dirt. He would love to just slide on in the water and forget the fishing. He pulled his cap down lower on his forehead and leaned back, just like Grandpa use to do.
Johnny sure wished Grandpa could go fishing with him now. They had been fishing buddies forever and had sure caught some good ones. Grandpa was kind of rough on him sometimes especially when he did dumb stuff like swishing the water with his pole or getting his hook caught in the tree limb. Grandpa was all business when it came to fishing. But Johnny had grown up a lot and he remembered what Grandpa had taught him. Grandpa couldn't make it down to the pond anymore since he had his stroke, but Johnny always filled him in on the fishing when he got back to the house. It made Grandpa smile that funny sad smile and sometimes he would laugh. Sometimes Johnny exaggerated a little to make Grandpa smile even more.
Johnny was sure feeling good sitting there in the cool dirt and thinking about Grandpa and fishing. His pole jumped, it sure did! Johnny sat up straight. Grandpa said you had to pay attention. The big one could hit at anytime. There it was again, but Johnny was ready this time and set the hook. He had him! It had to be a big one, that pole was bent almost in half. Johnny let him play the line, just like Grandpa said to do, and then started working him to the bank. He was holding on with all his might. Oh Boy! He wouldn't have to exaggerate this time. It was probably the biggest fish to ever come out of this old pond!
The catfish swam to the top and gave Johnny a good look at him. Johnny couldn't believe it. It was huge! And then something happened; he was gone. the line went limp, the pole straightened out and the big catfish was gone. Johnny almost wanted to cry. The line was flying in the breeze with no cork, no weight, no hook and NO fish.
Johnny grabbed his tackle box and headed across the dam up to the field. Grandpa wouldn't believe him, but he had to tell Grandpa so he could tell him what he had done wrong. Johnny's heart was so heavy he couldn't look up, he just shuffled along in his old tennis shoes and headed home. Johnny knew what was wrong, but he didn't want to think about it. That fishing line had been on that pole all through last summer and now half this summer. He hadn't wanted to take the time to change the line and put on a new hook and look what he missed. If had not been in such a hurry to get to the pond he would be bringing home a huge fish and a good story.
As Johnny got closer to home, he decided not to tell Grandpa about this fish. There was no need in both of them being downhearted. He would save it for another time when he was bringing home a catch and besides he didn't want Grandpa to know he hadn't taken care of his gear.
Grandpa was waiting on the back porch like Johnny knew he would be. He just smiled as Johnny walked by and said "better luck next time." Johnny shuffled past Grandpa and put his pole in the rack. "Yeah, it was really too hot this afternoon. I shouldn't have even gone down there early."
Johnny had been real quiet since coming in from fishing and Grandpa was pretty sure he knew what had happened. At the supper table Grandpa asked Johnny, "How big was it?"
"How big was what, Grandpa?"
"The fish that broke that line on your pole, how big was it?"
Johnny hadn't even thought about fixing his pole and he knew Grandpa noticed everything. "Grandpa that was the biggest fish I ever saw in that pond or any pond around here." And the story was told and re-told until bedtime and Grandpa didn't say one word about the old line on the pole. Grandpa knew Johnny was hurt over losing the fish and he also knew Johnny needed to put new line on the pole.
The next morning, Johnny found Grandpa on the back porch with Johnny's pole in his hand. Grandpa had put on new everything and it was ready to go again. Johnny put his arms around Grandpa and laid his head on his shoulder. Johnny didn't have to Grandpa he loved him or thank him for fixing up his pole or how much he missed him going to the pond with him - Grandpa knew, but Johnny told him anyway.
Late that afternoon Johnny headed back to the pond with his heart set on the big catfish. He wouldn't lose him this time; he would bring him in just like Grandpa taught him.
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