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Old 07-21-2008, 06:20 PM   #11
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I felt so proud, the magazine photographer was watching my puppy run the best agility time of his life. He caught him in mid air as he streaked across the gravel that was a hot as an oven in the August sun. The picture of him clearing the final jump for the championship will be on the cover.

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Old 07-21-2008, 07:47 PM   #12
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Dear Diary,
I've been baking cookies and muffins all day. The oven has kept the kitchen warm and comfy. I'll be giving the treats to Michael the cutest boy in the world. I've been watching him for weeks, I follow him all the way to the edge of his gravel drive way and then run away. I call and hang up. I send love letters. My American Girl magazine says it's "STOCKING" but I think it's just a case of puppy love!

In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on. Robert Frost
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Old 07-21-2008, 09:24 PM   #13
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Snapshot of a Great Night
Author - Goodweed of the North

Jenny frowned as her gravel encrusted popsicle melted in the sun. That sweet, syrupy confection, with it's promise of icy sweetness was lost to her forever. Tears began to form in her big, green eyes.

Jim was lost in a magazine when he heard the soft whimper of his three-year-old daughter. He looked up to see her sitting dejected, staring down at the melting posicle. He rose from his lawn chair and walked to his little angel. He quickly scooped her into his loving arms.

"Hey there my little giggly-wiggly-girl..." he said as he poked her playfully in the side.

She squirmed and frowned at him. But he wasn't going to let a lost popsicle ruin his Jenn'ys day. "Hey Jenny." he continued. "You want another popsicle?"

"No!" came the pouting reply.

"Well then, how about we get Buddy from his box?"

"I don't want Buddy. I want my popsicle."

Jim lowered his duaghter to the gravel, beside the now-melted popsicle. "Sorry kiddo. It's all gone now. The sun just melted it away. But you sit right there. Let's seef if we can cheer you up a little."

Jenny sat in the gravel, still pouting. Her world was that popsicle; and in her mind, it had been the most important thing in her little universe. So she sat and sulked, as only a three year old girl can do.

Suddenly she heard the comotion of a puppy running excitedly toward her. She looked up and watched her puppy running straight toward her. Like Jenny, Buddy was cute beyond words, a beagle puppy, full of energy and eagerness.

In an instant, the little beagle was upon her, licking and jumping, and everywhere at once. Jenny tried to ward off the playful dog as best as a three-year old could. But it wasn't long before his playful antics had her squeeling with glee, the molten popsicle all but forgotten. Jim grinned uncontrollably. His daughter was happy again, playing with Buddy.

"I could watch this all day." he said softly to himself.

"Jim." came the voice of his wife, Kris. "Jim, it's time to come inside. I'm taking the roast out of the oven now. So get Jenny cleaned up and put Buddy in his box. By the time you're done, I'll have supper on the table."

"Ok honey. I'll be right in."

As he once more walked toward his daughter, Jim thought to himself, "I have the two greatest women on the planet, and they're both living in my house."

All cleaned up, Jim placed Jenny into her special chair. He walked into the kitchen and said "Honey, don't worry about the dishes tonight. I got 'em." And he continued, "Here, let me get that bowl of veggies to the table for you."

"Why thank you, Jim. You're in a particulary good mood tonight."

"That's because I'm with my two favorite ladies."

"Good answer. Let's go get this meal blessed and eaten."

"Yeh, let's." As JIm walked past his wife, he stole a quick kiss.

Seeeeeya; Goodweed of the North
“No amount of success outside the home can compensate for failure within the home…"

Check out my blog for the friendliest cooking instruction on the net. Go ahead. You know you want to.- http://gwnorthsfamilycookin.wordpress.com/
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Old 07-21-2008, 10:37 PM   #14
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nice story

"life isn't about how to survive the storm but how to dance in the rain"
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Old 07-21-2008, 10:51 PM   #15
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watch gravel puppy magazine oven

I really want to participate because I absolutely love writing, but I don't have time right now because I need to put away some food, which is near my oven, make sure my son has his two stuffed puppies in his bed with him, take a shower so I can wash my feet because I stepped on some dirty gravel in the garage, watch my husband get ready for bed, and if there is time I would like to read the magazine I left upstairs.

But...if I get time later I will most certainly write a story!

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Old 07-21-2008, 11:02 PM   #16
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The moon was high and the wind shrill. Clouds drifted loftily in front of the glaring moon darkening the landscape. The sounds of the meeting slowly wafted to his ears as he stepped forward crunching the gravel beneath his heavy feet.

Looking to his watch, he saw it was nigh approaching the witching hour. The moment the night became liquid and flowed from here to there. In the distance a puppy growled as it gnawed on a forgotten bone.

Pulling his collar tight over his neck, he stepped forward to the bush’s edge to get a better view.

Before him, chanting in a language he didn’t understand, his query held aloft a rolled magazine set ablaze in a fury of fire. Moving forward, he watched the strange individual set the blazing magazine into the stone oven to kindle the fire.

As the stone behemoth sprang to life in a fiery roar, he could only wonder what was being cooked tonight.
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Old 07-22-2008, 02:48 AM   #17
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Being drained from another exhausting day working for Mr Evans in the fields I decide to take a brief nap in a hay stack that has been warming in the sun. I love the deep, restful sleep gained from soaking in the warmth and smell of the hay. Mr Evans is a kind man and turns a blind eye to his men taking a short nap occasionally. I am sure he won’t mind now, as the day is all but over and it is only him and me still here for the day.

Finding a particularly soft section of hay I lay my head down. In the distance, there is the sound of a car approaching. The sound of tyres rolling on gravel, slowly gets louder. I guess another one of Mr Evans clients have arrived. Over the past few days there has been a constant stream of clients coming and going. Since they can not see me, I start to doze, giving myself over to the radiating warmth of the hay. Let Mr Evans worry about this client.

Suddenly, the sound of gunfire rips me from my sleep. Instantly I hear automatic weapon fire and the single shot that I know to be Mr Evans revolver. I am sure the revolver is Mr Evans as it has a very distinctive sound that I have heard many times. Gee, it sounds like a war zone out there. Automatically I tuck myself deeper into the hay pile and lay low. Again I hear the rapid fire of the machine gun, ack ack ack ack ack over and over. I have heard it too many times to ever forget. It echoes in my dreams, and haunts my nightmares. The M16 is going to be taunting my subconscious for years to come. Next is that distinctive bang of Mr Evans firing his revolver. What could have gone wrong? Who is this person firing the M16?

Unable to think and gripped by the battle raging just a short jog from where I lay, I can feel my body tensing up My breath holds longer in my lungs before expelling in one quick release before quickly breathing fresh gulp of warm, humid air. Mr Evans gun releases another bullet with that distinct bang. At the same time I hear the rapid sound of the M16, then silence. Holding my breath for fear of making any noise that can be heard, I listen, and hear nothing.

Whats that? Someone walking on the gravel of the driveway! The sound recedes! Crunch, crunch, crunch crunch. I allow myself to slowly let out the air trapped in my lungs, making sure to keep my ears listening. One set of foot prints is all I hear, and they soon fall quiet again. A sound suddenly rips through the silence! A single, short burst fired from the M16. The sort of single, short burst that signals the end of that particular battle and Mr Evans life. Who is this person? An assassin maybe, or a rival?

The sound of walking again, this time getting closer! I concentrate and keep my head down. By now I am buried deep in the hay. The sound continues to get louder as if this person is walking straight towards me. Then silence, they have either stopped walking or have left the gravel drive. I strain to hear. I hear something, getting closer, foot steps impacting on solid earth. Getting closer still. God, don’t let them see me! My mind races, have I left my foot sticking out of the hay? Can they see me? All I can think of is escaping, bursting from my hiding place and charging for the tree line that I can see off in the distance. But I know that would spell certain death. My mind reasons with itself, surely staying here IS certain death. The sound gets closer, he is right on top of me now. My mind screams at me, RUN it is telling me, run before you too, hear that brief burst of fire. My muscles tense in preparation for my flight. The walking stops. Did he hear me somehow? He must be close, I can smell his stink drifting to me on the breeze mixed with the smell of tobacco burning. He is smoking. I dare not move now.

After what seems like an age a bright but small glowing spot of red sails past me and lands bouncing to the ground. A small trail of smoke rises from it. He has thrown his cigarette away. Thank god he did not throw it into the hay. Suddenly I realize I am wet, my clothes are sticking to me. This nice warm inviting hay pile has turned into an oven, an oven that I am trapped in. I hear a loud click followed by some metallic clanking. Moments later I hear the sound of a fresh magazine slamming home into the M16. Oh god, I think he knows I am here. I tense up further, BANG, another shot, this time deafening. I feel something warm running on my upper leg. Am I hit? Relief engulfs me as I pick up the smell, urine. I have lost control of my bladder like an excited puppy. Although my excitement is of a very different nature! I pray the wind is blowing enough so the person standing nearby can not smell it. Hearing the sound of footfalls on the earth as the person nearby begins walking away I allow myself to relax a little. His footsteps change from the heavy thud of solid earth to the sharp crunch of the gravel. I wait.

The sound gets fainter until it is quite soft. Creeping slowly from the hay I peek around the edge of the pile and catch my first look at this killer. I see a tall, thickly set man wearing heavy boots with cargo pants and a sandy colored dress shirt. His hair is not long but not short, and roughly kempt. He is walking away from me, carrying the M16 by the handle almost casually by his side. In his other hand he holds a Pistol. That must be what he fired near me.

I watch as he enters the homestead. He moves slowly through the house. I break from my hiding place run the distance to the short brick wall that lines the front yard of the homestead. Crouching down to keep from being seen I can see Mr Evans, laying motionless just inside the short wall. Several holes riddle his body, and there is a pool of blood that surrounding his torso. A door bangs inside the homestead and I duck down behind the wall.

My courage soon returns and I lift my head up so that I can see again. Mr Evans has dropped his revolver, which has landed near the wall. Slowly, I crawl along until I am on the opposite side of the short wall where the revolver lies. Listening for any sound, I hear footsteps on the wooden floorboards of the homestead as the man walks through the house. From how loud the walking is I can tell he is at the back of the house. I spring into action jumping from my concealed position. Lunging over the wall I grab the revolver, then return to my position, cowering behind the wall.

Soon, the footsteps on the floorboards get closer! The spring on the front door creaks as the man leaves the house. I check the revolver to find only one round in the chamber. I rotate the chamber back to its position with the round ready to fire. I hear the man’s footsteps getting closer. With one fluid movement I swing my revolver over the top of the wall and take aim, one shot is all I have so make it count. What greets me is the man kneeling on the grass, already aiming his pistol at me. Without hesitation he squeezes the trigger. Bang!

With a jolt I sit bolt upright looking around frantically. Sweat runs down my face! My panic turns to calm realization as I begin to smell the hay I have been laying in. I breathe a great sigh of relief, it was all a dream. I settle back down into the hay to regain my composure. In the distance I hear a car approaching…..
Vegemite - Just say no!!
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Old 07-22-2008, 10:36 AM   #18
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I sighed in boredom as I watched rain drops streak down the window. It had been a long summer. My parents had decided to drag me up to their "getaway" cabin for five whole weeks! No TV, no radio, no video games! I despised the out doors so I had spent most of the time sitting in my room listening to my iPod. Oh, and since my parents thought I might get lonely, they also burdened me with the care of a new puppy. Did I mention that I don't like animals?

So there I was, staring out the window. Thunder echoed through the canyon sounding like an over sized bowling alley. Lightening flashed and I saw something streak across the yard and into the evergreens.

"Great," I though dismally, "there goes Misty again." Misty was the name of dumb cocker spaniel that was my dog.

I squinted into the trees trying to catch a glimpse of where Misty had gone. Lightening flashed again.

"What the...?" I whispered.

I saw what appeared to be the head of a large black horse poking out of the trees. I waited for the next round of lightening, which revealed not only a horse, but a tall black rider as well. The rider appeared to be looking right up at my window. Surely he couldn't see me!

Then the mysterious rider looked directly into my eyes and beckoned to me. A shiver ran down my spine. He pointed a little ways down the forest path. There was Misty, barking furiously at the horse and rider. Then all three of them stepped deeper into the trees and were gone.

By this time the rain had started to subside. I sighed, reached for my iPod, then paused. I hadn't done a single interesting thing all summer long. Why not have a little adventure for once?

I pulled my jacket on as everything I had ever been told about talking to strangers and going off into the forest on my own ran through my head. I ignored the thoughts as if they were a commercial for a real estate company.

I peeked around the corner to see if the coast was clear. Dad was reading a magazine by the fireplace. No need to worry about him. I scanned the room for Mom. She was bending down, putting pies in the oven. I quickly tip-toed past them and was out the door before you could say log cabin.

I ran quickly over the wet gravel and entered the forest. It was pitch black, and I had forgotten my flashlight.

To be continued...with the next set of words.

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Old 07-24-2008, 10:22 AM   #19
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I love these! You are all great!

If someone would like to supply the next 5 words, that would be great! Don't be shy, just jump on in with some words.

BTW, if two people happen to post words at the same time, would you all agree that we will go with the first set posted? It's bound to happen sometime!

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Old 07-24-2008, 11:52 AM   #20
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dining room

i believe that life would not be complete sans comfy 'ol tee-shirts, the Golden Girls, and the color pink
& rock on, PITTSBURGH-
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