LOCAL MAN SLEEPS FOR TWENTY YEARS!

Local townsman, known as Rip Van Winkle, returns from the Kaatskill Mountains after 20 years of sleeping! Coming back at the age of 78, he wears shreds of clothes, quite out of state and style, his hair reaches the length of his knees! Old schoolmaster of the town, now in congress says, “I always wondered where that good for nothing, lazy chap had gone! He used to do nothing but lean against the trees over yonder. His slothful, lethargic dog returned a couple days after he disappeared but no one knew where Rip went!” Judith Gardenier, Van Winkle’s daughter says enthusiastically, “Ah, poor man! One day he was sitting in his ole’ rockin chair and the next he left to the mountains with his dog and gun. Some thought he shot himself, others were convinced he had been carried away by them Indians!” Now that Rip Van Winkle has returned, he tells us he has no memory of a war! He announced himself as a “poor, quiet man, a native of the place, and a loyal subject of the king!” when he entered the countryside.

Why I Need a Cell Phone by Pickle14 (8)

I have wanted a cell phone since I was able to memorize phone numbers but my dear mother has never given me an age at which I will be able to receive one. As I said, I always wanted one, but I never had a reason why I needed one. So I have now come up with three reasons why I need a cell phone.

If I’m out with my friends and I need to ask an important question, all I have to do is dial my parents’ number and ask! Simple and easy.

Another reason is if my parents are on their way to pick me up or they want to remind me to do something, they can just send me a quick text message (because of course they both have cell phones) that says “Do your chores” or “I’ll be there in ten minutes, be ready.”

The Last and Most Important Reason, if I get kidnapped and thrown into the trunk of a car, I can either call my parents or text message them if I need to be absolutely silent.


If you ask me, I think those are very good reasons. Now… mother?

Theater by Pickle13 (6A)

Since I’ve joined theater, I’ve gained a lot of knowledge and learning from the directors and choreographers. I never realized how much joy it could bring me to be able to act, sing, and dance as well as I can now. I love the feeling of acting in amusing, loud ways and knowing my songs and dances. Theater has made me realize that I can do so many things if I just try hard enough and practice. When I acted before I joined theater, I was quiet and I didn’t use the stage and I never was dramatic enough. Now however, I know to move around across the whole stage and say my lines loudly and make my motions big and dramaturgical. When I sing now, I project my voice across the theater so that everyone can hear me, and I open my throat so as not to sound so nasley. My dancing has improved a lot also. Instead of stomping around onstage like I used to, I practice making my dance moves smooth and big. All of the things I've learned from theater, have not only made me look and sound better but make me enjoy it more and not feel so insecure about myself.

Stink Alley by Pickle13 (3B)*

Lizzie was a brave little girl who came with the Separatists from England to Holland. She explained to the little boy the adventures they went through to get to Holland with much enthusiasm which makes it easy for anyone to imagine the smell, taste, sound, touch and sight.

When she tells of the day that she and her parents boarded the ship bound for Holland, you can just taste the salty air of the Atlantic Ocean. The wind blew in with Lizzie’s breath and her mouth went dry. Her eyes started watering and she choked back the ocean-salty gunk that she was longing to cough out.

Lizzie tells the little boy how she and her father looked out across the ocean at the little boat full of women and children. She saw the waves starting to get bigger as the boat backed out. She watched as the soldiers and government ride up on their horses and watch their boat sail away. Lizzie squinted, trying to keep her mother in sight but the fog covered up her mother's shining eyes.

Men shouted over the whistling wind at the captain who wouldn’t go back for the women and children for fear that he would be arrested. The women screamed across the waters for their husbands to come back and the children cried and screeched earsplitting shrieks. Lizzie sobbed quietly to herself and tried to block out all the noise as she prayed silently.

Underneath the deck Lizzie breathed a long breath of recovery. She tried not to think of her mother. The hull smelled of seaweed and stinky feet. She lied down on her bunk and smelled the sheets. They smelled like sour milk. She tried to cover her face so she couldn’t breath the stink, but her hands smelled like her mother since she had been holding her hand right before they were separated. She didn’t want to smell her mother either so she rolled over, held her breath for as long as she could, and then cried.

Lizzie’s father hugged her tight as they waited on deck for the sighting of Holland. His arms were warm and soft. The wind blew across her face like feathers tickling her cheeks. She pulled her legs up under herself and tugged the blanket over her thighs. It was rough, but warm. She thought about the adventures she had been going through and prayed a quick silent prayer and instantly felt much better and knew that she would be seeing her mother again and they’d all live happily again in a free country.

Auditions by Pickle13 (3A)*

When I walk into Christ Community Church for auditions, I can instantly sense the nervousness in the building. I look around and there’s kids everywhere pacing back and forth, or sitting and standing, twiddling their thumbs, or bouncing their knees uncontrollably while sweat runs down their anxious faces and goose bumps pop up on their shaking arms and legs. Some of them have already auditioned, and their faces are full of grateful relief. The faces of the kids who haven’t auditioned yet are drained of color.

I take a sip of my ice-cold caffeinated tea, hoping that it’ll give me energy for my audition and that auditioning is not as bad as these kids are making it look. I watch nervously as one of my friends walk up to the stage to perform their audition. I crunch on an ice cube and swallow hard as she starts singing. I can almost taste the salty sweat in the air.

I listen closely as one by one my friends go up and sing their hearts out to the directors. They all do really well which only makes me feel scared that I might not do as good. After each audition, the audience applauds and whoops as loud as they can. When the clapping dies down, there’s silence. Then the directors call out the next number.

The smell in the auditorium gets worse by the minute. With all these kids going up on stage and dancing so hard they can barely breathe, the B.O. is terrible. I try my hardest not to smell so much like body odor by drenching myself in Sweet Pea body spray, and adding a new layer of deodorant ever five minutes.

Finally, I’m sitting on the hard benches in the front row waiting for my number to be called. I slip my feet out of my flip-flops and I dig my toes in to the velvety soft carpet. Suddenly, I hear my number being called. I make my body move up to the stage and I can feel all eyes on me now. The fans on the ceiling blow a light breeze across my face. I clasp my hands above my head to begin my dance--they’re cold and sweaty. Then, I begin to sing and by the time I’m halfway through I don’t feel nervous one single bit.

This post won an award for "Most Descriptive Post."

Make-Up by Pickle13 (2A)

I love wearing make-up! When I look in the mirror, I can see that mascara helps my eyelashes show up, blush helps my cheek bones look rosy and eyeliner helps my eyes look bigger and brighter than they do without it. I feel so much better about myself when I can stand looking in the mirror without flinching at my dullness. Make-up not only makes me feel pretty, but also more mature than I really am. Without it, I feel like I just look like a yippy-yappy kid!

Cameron Townsend by Pickle13 (2B)

Cameron Townsend was a very determined man. When he decided to become a missionary, he stuck with his idea till he died. He went through tons of hardships but never gave up his faith or belief in his idea of getting the Bible translated to the millions of tribes all around the world. He was so determined, that even when his best friends and wife died, he kept on going until every single job he was given was done. Nothing stopped this committed hero from doing God's work.

Pillows by Pickle13 (1A)

Have you ever read about the Egyptians' pillows? They are quite uncomfortable. Believe me, I've tried one! They're not even what I would call a pillow. They are more like head displayers carved out of stone. You lay your head on it and your head supposedly fits perfectly and you look like you're trying to show off your head! When I first read about the Egyptian head displayers, I was glad that some amazing genius thought of the sophisticated, fluffy, kind of pillow. I don't know how I would sleep if I had to keep my head propped up on a hard thing like the Egyptian pillows. But with a mooshy pillow underneath my head, I can actually dream wonderful dreams. Also, did Egyptians ever have pillow fights? I hope they didn't! They would've knocked each other out within seconds!