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Little Duck- Final

Once upon a time there was a little duck named Pip. One day, Pip met a little goose named Timothy. They became the best of friends. They splashed and played together all day in the pond, and didn’t even notice they were different.

One day, Pip and Timothy were playing outside together, when Mama Goose looked out the window and saw them. She was very angry.

“Geese don’t play with ducks Timothy,” she said. “Find a new friend.”

Timothy didn’t know why Momma goose didn’t like Pip. Pip was a good duck. Why did it matter that he was different?

Pip and Timothy tried to make new friends, but couldn’t find a friendship as special as the one they had. Weeks past by and they missed each other very much.

One day, while Momma Goose was on her way to the store, she fell in a mudhole and got stuck.

“Oh no!” she yelled out. “Someone help me!”

She wiggled and squirmed, but could not get out by herself.

After a little while, a group of ducks walked by and saw Momma Goose in the mud.

“We can help you!” One duck said.

Then, the ducks all grabbed on to Momma goose and worked together to pull her out of the wet, sticky mud.

“Thank you all so much, “said Momma Goose, and then she went on her way.

After the ducks were so kind, Momma Goose started to think about what she had told Timothy. She realized that she had been wrong.

At home that night she talked to Timothy about Pip.

“Timothy I realized that I was wrong all along about ducks,” she said. “There is nothing wrong with being friends with someone who is different.”

The Little Duck

Once upon a time there was a little duck named Pip. One day Pip met a little goose named Timothy. They became the best of friends. They splashed and played together all day in the pond and didn’t even notice they where different. One day, Mama goose noticed who timothy was playing with and was angry.

“Geese don’t play with ducks Timithy” she said. “Find a new friend.”

Timothy didn’t know why Momma goose didnt like Pip. Pip was a good duck. Why did is matter that he was different? 

The next day, momma goose got stuck in a mudhole on the way to the grocery store. She wiggled and squirmed but couldnt get out. 

After a little while, a group of ducks walked by and worked together to help her out. Mama duck thanked them, and started to think about what she told timothy.

At home that night she talke to timothy about pip.

“Timothy I have decided that there is nothing wrong with being friends with a duck, she said. “It is ok to be different.”

Long Distance

I feel like distance is one of those things that has the ability to destroy almost anything if you let it. Living far away from people that you care about almost always ends in us becoming less close to them. Probably because often times we determine if a relationship is a good one based on how much time we spend with that person. I think we have the ability to change this inevitable fate if we really work at it.  Sometimes being there for someone when they are having a hard time doesnt have to mean you are physically in the same place as them, but just means that you listen when they call. 

Growing Up

I don’t think I have had a particular moment in my life where I started defining myself as old. I have definetly grown as a person a lot over the past years, but still don’t think I can call myself grown up. I turned eighteen over the summer, so ya I guess I am technically considered and adult, but I am not really one. I can vote and even get a tattoo if I want, but I don’t even pay for my own food or my house. I don’t have any of the reponsibilities of an adult and still live at home with my parents. I think a person can actually start to consider themselves old, when they are finally self sufficent and don’t depend on other people for everything. For me, that will probably be after I finish college and get my first real job.

College life

Exactly a year from now I will be in my first semester of my senior year. It feels unreal that my life here in high school is going to be over in just a few short months. I am hoping to go to Kansas University, which isn’t too far but also isnt super close. Moving away from home is exciting and scary all at the same time. There are parts of my life here that i think I will be happy to leave behind, like all of the drama, but there are also things that I will be sad to leave behind. Also, I am a bit nervous about starting over with friends and stuff. I think people know nothing about you has its advantages and disadvantages. 

Its strange how close we really are to going off to college. Just the other day I was looking at dorm layouts. High school seems like it has come and gone so fast. 

LONIP final

Life is like a never ending story, each event leading to the next. Our decisions and mistakes of the past shape what we become in the future.Jodi Picoult once said“Everyone thinks you make mistakes when you’re young. But I don’t think we make any fewer when we’re grown up.”  

Part one: The Foolish Little Kid

I think we all have those childhood stories that our Moms seem to tell everyone over and over again. For me, one of those stories starts with a game of pretend with my older sister Helen. We were in the kitchen of our old house, making up games like usual , this time we were playing beauty shop. I went first, taking the scissors and pretending to cut Helen’s hair. I made little sniping noises,but was careful to hold the scissors a safe distance away from her head. Then, it was Helen’s turn. I sat in the chair and patiently waited for her to finish.  Only problem was, somehow Helen didn’t understand that we were only pretending. She stood behind me, concentrating with each snip of the scissors as I sas by oblivious to my falling hair.  My golden brown locks, that had once fallen down my back in long waves, were cut into little uneven strands that barely went down to my chin.. It looked like someone had taken a weedwacker to the back of my head. I looked around myself at the strands of hair on the floor and began to wail. My Mom rushed into the room and stared at my haircut in shock.

“Why did you let her do that!” she asked me.

“I didn’t,” I yelled back. “It was only supposed to be pretend.”

My Mom ended up having to plan an emergency hair appointment for me the next day

Looking back on it, I have no idea why I trusted my sister anywhere near me with scissors. She had given herself at least three at home haircuts in the years previous, and was always cutting the hair off all of our Barbies.

Part two: The Hospital Visits

When I was younger, I was always kind of a reckless little kid. I was constantly falling off my bike and getting scraped up or jumping off things. One day, we were all at my Cousin Erin’s new apartment. I was about five years old at the time and my cousin’s apartment had this glossy, slippery hardwood floors. Like usual, my sister Helen and I came up with a game to play. We slid around on the floor in our socks, gliding across like ice skaters. It was all fun and games at first, but then I slipped and fell, crashing to the ground straight on my face. When I got up my sister gasped and screamed for my mom the come quick. My bottom lip was split open and a small stream of blood flowed out.  My Mom panicked, like any parent would, and decided to take me to the hospital. I sat in the back seat of the car ,clutching my pink teddy bear, and looking out the window the whole way there. I ended up needing a few stitches that day, but other than that I was completely fine.  Now after that incident you would think that I would have been a bit more careful, but that was not the case. About a week later, I was playing in my sister’s room and decided that it would be a good idea to jump off the top bunk of her bed. I had done it thousands of times before that. Leaping from the top as if I was jumping off the top of a building, the rush of adrenaline filling my little body as I made it to the bottom unharmed.  To a five year old, it felt like the bravest thing I could have done. This particular night, I was wearing one of those oversized sleep shirts that went all the way down to my knees when I stood up. I climbed up to the top bunk and looked down over the entire room. I jumped off, falling down towards the ground, until suddenly my shirt got stuck on the top of the bunk, leaving me dangling and squirming around to break free. I panicked and kicked my legs around, until finally it gave with a loud rip.I went crashing down to the floor landing hard on one of my wrists. The pain shot through my wrist like a bolt of lightning and I let out a sob. My mom rushed into the room and panicked when she saw me. That night, we ended up making another trip to the emergency room, where my wrist was x-rayed. Turned out that I had broken my wrist only a week after my first visit.

Part 3: The Ice

This one is a bit more recent. It all started last January, when my friend Emily’s parents were going to be out of town. Like any teenagers, we decided it would be a fun idea to all get together and hang out at Emily’s house  The roads leading up to Emily’s house are not exactly the safest. They curve and turn at sharp angles and in places have steep inclines that look almost impossible to climb. There was bad weather forecasted for the entire night, but my friend Miranda and I managed to make it to Emily’s before the storm hit. At about eight o’clock, we decided that it would be a good idea to all go out and get some food. We all piled into two different cars and headed down the mountain like hill, sure that nothing bad was going to happen to us. While we where eating, freezing rain started pouring down from the sky like a waterfall, covering the road in a thin, glossy layer of ice. We all realized that driving was going to be difficult, so we headed back. We didn’t really run into any problems until we finally made it to the bottom of the massive hill that leads up to Emily’s neighborhood. Our little Honda steadily rose up the hill, slowly climbing closer and closer to the top. At about the halfway point, the car suddenly stopped. Our wheels turned and turned, but the car wouldn’t move.  We tried to back up and go again, but all came to the realization that we were not going to make it up that hill in one piece. We parked our car, and decided  to walk the five miles to Emily’s in freezing rain. Climbing that hill was not easy. We slid across the ice like an air hockey puck, slipping with almost every step. Just as we thought we were going to have to hike the whole thing, a man pulled up in a truck with his daughter.

“Do you need a ride?” he yells out to all nine of us from the window.

We pondered the idea for a minute, knowing that it is never a good idea to accept a ride from a random man that we had never seen before. Then, decided that we wouldn’t make it back if we didn’t accept it.

We all piled into the back of the old pickup truck and headed up the hills. Even the truck struggled, as it slowly climbed the hills. After a long scary ride, we all finally made it back to Emily’s in one piece. It was a series of bad ideas, but everything turned out alright in the end.

Part 4: Finally Getting it Right

After years of making mistakes I finally have started to figure it out. Making mistakes is inevitable and I don’t think that I can ever avoid it all together, but I like to think things get easier with experience.

LONIP

Life is like a never ending story, each event leading to the next. Our decisions and mistakes of the past shape what we become in the future.Jodi Picoult once said“Everyone thinks you make mistakes when you’re young. But I don’t think we make any fewer when we’re grown up.”  

Part one: The Foolish Little Kid

I think we all have those childhood stories that our Moms seem to tell everyone over and over again. For me, one of those stories starts with a game of pretend with my older sister Helen. We were in the kitchen of our old house, making up games like usual , this time we were playing beauty shop. I went first, taking the scissors and pretending to cut Helen’s hair, making little sniping noises and making sure to hold the scissors a safe distance away from her head. Then, it was Helen’s turn. I sat in the chair and patiently waited for her to finish. Only problem was, somehow Helen didn’t understand that we were only pretending. My hair, that had once fallen down my back in long waves, was then  chopped off in little uneven strands. At this point, I started to cry, which caused my Mom to run into the room. She was furious.

“why did you let her do that!” she asked me.

“I didn’t,” I yelled back. “It was only supposed to be pretend.”

My Mom ended up having to plan an emergency hair appointment for me the next day

Looking back on it, I have no idea why I trusted my sister anywhere near me with scissors. She had given herself at least three at home haircuts in the years previous, and was always cutting the hair off all of our barbies.

Part two: The Hospital Visits

When I was younger, I was always kind of a reckless little kid. I was constantly falling off my bike and getting scraped up or jumping off things. One day, we were all at my Cousin Erin’s new apartment. I was about five years old at the time and my cousin’s apartment had this glossy, slippery hardwood floors. Like usual, my sister Helen and I came up with a game to play. We slid around on the floor in our socks, gliding across like ice skaters. It was all fun and games at first, but then I slipped and fell, crashing to the ground straight on my face. When I got up my sister gasped and screamed for my mom the come quick. My bottom lip was split open and bleeding. We ended up leaving my cousins house and going the the emergency room, where I got a few stitches.  Now after that incident you would think that I would have been a bit more careful, but that was not the case. About a week later, I was playing in my sister’s room and decided that it would be a good idea to jump off the top bunk of her bed. I had done it a bunch of times before that actually and not gotten hurt, but this time turned out a bit differently. I was wearing one of those oversized sleep shirts that went all the way down to my knees when I stood up. When I made the jump, the shirt got stuck on the top of the bunk, leaving me dangling and squirming around to break free. The shirt finally gave with a loud rip and I went crashing down to the floor landing hard on one of my wrists. I began to cry and my Mom came rushing into the room. We ended up making another trip to the emergency room, where my wrist was x-rayed. Turned out that I had broken my wrist only a week after my first visit.

Part 3: The Ice

This one is a bit more recent. It all started last January, when my friend Emily’s parents were going to be out of town. About nine of us thought it would be fun if we all went and hung out at Emily’s house. The only thing about Emily’s house is that it is kind of far away and all the roads leading up to it have a lot of curves and go straight uphill.  Once we all finally got there, we decided to go out and get some food together at around nine o’clock. Only problem was, none of us had checked the weather that night and an ice storm started while we were gone. We all left the restaurant, and headed back to Emily’s house, driving through the winding curved roads. The entrance to her neighborhood has this massive, steep hill. We pulled up to the base of it and started to go up, moving steadily until we were about halfway up. Our car stopped, and we could hear the wheels turning over and over again underneath us and the car slipped on the ice. At that moment, we all realized that we were not going to make it up that hill in one piece, so we went down the hill, parked the car, and decided to walk the five miles to Emily’s in the freezing rain. Only problem was, walking up a slippery ice covered road is not easy. We were falling almost every other step, when a man and his daughter pulled up in a big truck and offered us a ride. It probably wasn’t the best idea to take a ride from strangers, but we were only halfway up the first hill and decided it was worth the risk.

Halloween

This post is a bit late, but overall I had a pretty decent halloween this year. I hung out with some of my closest friends and we all had a pretty good time. This year i decided to dress up as Alice in Wonderland for my costume, which took me a pretty long time to make, because all my friends where planning on going as characters from kids movies. It turned out pretty good, but all of my friends ended up bailing on the whole matching costume thing. We went to a party at my friend austin’s house for a little while, then all had a sleepover at my friend Miranda’s.  It seems really weird that it is all of our last halloween together. It feels like we where just running around trick or treating together. 

We are finally almost done with the process of writing our short stories. All that is left now are the final details of planning the party. The graphic  designers are all busy working away on the book covers, which I am excited about getting to finally see. I think it is pretty cool that Mr. Durham found a way for all of us to work with another class in the school to make a final product. I have never had a teacher do something like actually publishing a story in a language arts class. It is a pretty creative idea. I like it when teachers actually like teaching us and try and do creative things that we like. We can always tell the difference between the ones that just print out worksheets to keep us busy and the ones who try and do something that will help us grow and is fun. I get sick of doing random assignments that have no purpose and I think that is why I don’t always end up doing all the homework that teachers assign me. I like to know that what I am doing has some type of purpose.

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