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Blog: drawboy's cigar box (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
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Blog: Kid Lit Reviews (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
JacketFlap tags: carrots, Capstone Young Readers, 5-Stars, Katy Hudson, Too Many Carrots, Children's Books, friendship, greed, Picture Books, nature, sharing, Add a tag
Too Many Carrots Written & Illustrated by Katy Hudson Capstone 2/1/2016 978-1-62370-638-8 32 pages Ages 3—5 “Rabbit loves carrots. In fact, he loves them so much that they are crowing him out of his cozy burrow. When his friends offer help, Rabbit happily accepts. But will too many carrots cause too much trouble …
Add a CommentBlog: Yesisedit's Weblog (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
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What’s on my mind?
Indigenous peoples and their worry about being over run by other populations I guess could sum it up.
I suppose if cougars, wolves, elephants and such learned to shoot guns or band together better they would kick out the human populations who have transgressed on their land but as people go I believe we need to understand the reason for others unlawfully entering areas already overpopulated.
Overpopulation where they come from, economic despair, greed, the making of money into a God and the lust for power over others seem to be good places to start .
Seems to me that as people from a planet with finite resources we need to try to make all places a good place to live so people want to stay where they are. Make everywhere a good place to be.
Sharing with others does not have to mean give away my happiness but it could mean helping you gain yours. I hope I can do that with more than one other and if we all did it for just two other people it would cure the problem in my mind at least.
Blog: Welcome to my Tweendom (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
JacketFlap tags: family, greed, horror, lies, stories, England, orphans, Amulet, Victorian England, dark fantasy, supernatural, 2014, Add a tag
Molly and Kip are trying to find the Windsors, their new home of employment, but the locals are not making it easy for them. Every time Molly asks, they speak of the sour woods and tell Molly that she should stay away. But it's not like Molly has a choice - she and her brother are far from home and without parents. When they encounter Hester Kettle on the road, they seem to have found a piece of luck. She is willing to tell the children how to get to the Windsors for a promise of future stories. Molly agrees and they are soon on their way.
Molly's introduction to the family is a far cry from welcoming. Hired by the Windsor's solicitor, Constance has no idea Molly is coming and is less than pleased to find her telling stories to her young daughter Penny in the dusty foyer of the house. Constance and her son Alistair want Molly and Kip to leave immediately, but Molly is able to use her gift of the gab to convince them that they would much rather live in a well tended house, and that she and Kip can provide it for them.
She will soon live to regret this move, as the family and the house seem to be harboring dark secrets. While she is able to throw herself into the ample work of cleaning up the household during the day, it is at night when Molly is most afraid. Every night since she's been sleeping in the house, she has been having terrible nightmares. And it turns out the darkness isn't just in her mind. She wakes to find her door open, leaves in her hair and mud on the floor.
As it turns out, the Night Gardener Miss Polly has mentioned is real. He wanders the house and the grounds at night and has his hand in the nightmares of the household.
And he is not the only dark element at the Windsors' place. The tree, growing much too close to the house, is more than it seems as well, and will soon ensnare Molly as it has the Windsors.
This is a deliciously scary story that will have readers up into the night to finish. Jonathan Auxier is one of those writers who seems like he's been around forever. Not because there are a plethora of his books lining the shelves, but because he is a craftsman. His books have a timeless quality to them and are made of the stuff with staying power. The Windsor's legacy is slowly revealed piece by piece which helps bring the suspense level to that of a slow burn. He explores the themes of human weakness and greed, family and loyalty with aplomb. The setting is expertly laid out and even now as I close my eyes I can see the grounds, the stables and the green door.
Fans of dark fantasy, Victorians, and well crafted stories will be left shivering with delight.
Blog: Yesisedit's Weblog (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
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A quite lively discussion has blown in from space on a friends Face-postcard about something I forgot because it went a completely different way in short order and is now a history lesson on indigenous peoples.
It was said the “Native “”American”” people” were here first and that they claim to be “Indigenous” and that they have their traditional stories to back up their claim to properties etc.
That got me to thinking (usually leads to minor disasters) that just because someone in your past lived some place and told creation stories doesn’t always mean you have any more rights than the guy who was born there after you lost the battle, in my case way after.
I know, growing up, my mother used to tell me, when I asked how I got here that I came from heaven and perhaps, if I’m a good boy, God will give me land there again though I think he may balk at the casino I want to build even if it is to take all the sinner’s money or credits or what ever the currency of his realm is.
And further more if in the past there was only one super continent, Pangaea or what ever they really called it, then we all have a claim to everywhere cause we are all descendants of the original inhabitants and I’ll bet a dollar to a doughnut there aint anywho who can tell me where they thought they came from even after the break up.
I thought perhaps we are all from Mars via the Pleiades star system but had to leave cause the Marshonians wanted the place back so we moved on as they had come from the Hercules system to Mars first.
To send every one back to where they came from is stupid, you can’t fit that many people on Ellis Island let alone grow enough hemp there to have a trade economy with New York.
I don’t know the answer other than if we don’t start being natives from “EARTH” the little grey men will boot us out and wipe out the myths of our origins from then to eternity.
Blog: WORDS (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
JacketFlap tags: frustration, greed, haiku, writing for children, procrastination, tsunami, fear, jealousy, hoarding, casting crowns, breaking fears, Fear and jealousy, fear in our life, haiku about fear, root of fear, Add a tag
Like a tsunami, fear can wash away our life… unless we rise up I believe fear can come in many forms… and sometimes it comes in the forms of “bad thoughts” or nightmares. We don’t always know we are afraid of something until it invades our thoughts. How many times have we wanted to do […]
Blog: Yesisedit's Weblog (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
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One of the, if not The, deepest questions of the universe.
You have to start with what you believe is the force that is the creator of this life I believe.
Some think of GOD as a human type creature in who’s image we are created, with long flowing hair, robes to make him modest though he needs to hide nothing from his creations as I see it, and a celestial kingdom where he, or she in some cases, sits reining judgement down upon the works he designed and gave free will to.
I can not see that which created me in such limited form. I can not even envelope the concept of never ending or forever just because I am temporary in this form at least. I do however believe I was created from and by the “GOD” that has no limits and this is exactly why I think I am made in it’s likeness, BUT not in it’s totality, there are things missing if I am separate FROM God, God did not make me GOD, God, or even god, GOD made me human, GOD made everything else what it is too I believe but I think, like one atom in my body or even smaller than that, to infinity small, that part is still a part of GOD though never “GOD”, only a part, that the smallest part of me is still me, I am made in the likeness of and from GOD, I am alive, that smallest part of me is alive, GOD must also be alive if we are all part of everlasting life.
Conclusion; Life never begins, it is never ended, It IS!
Consciousness in itself does not prove to me that I am not alive.
The fact that when sperm and egg combine and the DNA messages combine to spark cell multiplication (The spark of life if you will) and a plan is put into affect to form a body which will make a human or any other living thing would seem to be life to me.
BUT it was life even before that! The EGG and the SPERM were also alive, donated by the life forms of at least two separate beings, who were made in the image of GOD, who is also alive.
GOD talks to all of us in GOD’s own way. Some hear “Him” like “He” was talking in their language and sitting having tea I suppose. Others see the “Great Spirit” manifest as all that surrounds us and all that can not be seen or even heard but that still is. I am more from that camp I suppose but still believe all is possible.
The right to life for me is hard to conceive when I believe that life is never ending. The right to life is not for me to tell you, you may or may not have though if you threaten my life I will not hesitate to use what ever is at my disposal to protect mine and stop yours!
The question to me is more the quality of the life you give rather than just letting all life happen. If all in creation is from GOD then even the worst of it is sacred and the Jaines may be correct and may have more in line with current Christian values than most think. But if we do not take into account what we offer, if a human is brought into this world through violent action that threatens the life that brings it who is the killer here? The mother who was raped or is too young and will surely die from the birth or the entity being born who would kill it’s mother, most assuredly it would be the rapist but can we take his life either? I would say it is not my place to judge any of these unless they are me. I WILL FIGHT FOR MY LIFE! But a Mother must make the call of giving herself for another in my view. It may seem selfish or unjust but it must be hers with as much help and support from all sides as she can get. Advise and support but not Judgement and in the end her decision as final carrier of that which will always be alive to enter into this world.
If you believe in eternal life you will not be sad for the soul who returns to it’s maker but wish it return another time
Blog: Claudsy's Blog (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
JacketFlap tags: Season (sports), New Year, family, Uncategorized, greed, Christmas, God, Shopping, holiday, Thanksgiving, heritage, Sunday, pioneers, possessions, Add a tag
We’ve come into the season of holidays; Thanksgiving gives way to Christmas and moves inexorably to New Years. For centuries this season has stood for blessings, fellowship, and unity; if not in actuality, at least on the surface.
This time around something has gone off the tracks. Everyone is edgier, ruder, more desperate. One could attribute this holiday syndrome as an ever-increasing out-pouring of the stress felt by countless millions of people who don’t know what the next year will bring economically, politically, or within the family.
The question is: Why has our population become seemingly unequipped to keep themselves under control?
Our forefathers for centuries lived with the knowledge that nothing in this world is certain. Life and their own common sense taught them to plan for those lean times, rely only on necessities, especially when luxuries cost so much more than most could pay. They lived with few clothes for each member of the family.
A father with more than two pairs of pants, one work shirt and one for Sunday, and who could give the same for each of his family, was a wealthy man by the standards of the time.
A mother who didn’t lose at least two children to stillbirth, illness or injury before they were five years old was truly blessed. Children who still had both birth parents to attend their weddings, complete with cake and a bride’s veil, could remember that for the rest of their lives.
If one owned a small cabin or house, with enough land to provide a kitchen garden that would produce enough food to put away for winter stores, wealth was clear. Size of the home didn’t matter. Everyone would have a place to sleep, warm and secure when cold and snow took over the outer territory. The living room/family room/kitchen, etc. occupied one space, all of which might have measured 15×20 feet. A loft was always necessary for sleeping nooks for the children.
When the world industrialized and cities became the working world for many, credit became common for those who always paid their bills on time. The 1929 Depression and subsequent lean years didn’t teach everyone the price of greed. People afterwards merely moved to different avenues for making money.
By the early 21st Century we’ve become barbarians in subtle ways. Take the incidents these past couple of days across the country. People, so absorbed in their passion to buy the latest and greatest for the cheapest price available, have been willing to kill or maim others to get to a desired item first.
Headlines in the news: Woman pepper sprays others, injuring 20 people, to get to a xbox on sale. Shoppers, anxious to get into a store for first pickings, dismantle a door and trample to death a young woman standing ready to open the door at the appointed time. A man is shot in a store’s parking lot during a sale.
Question: Have we become barbarous murderers in the name of possessions? Or, has greed so possessed our people through constant consumerism propaganda that we’re desensitized to our own actions?
Incidents like the above are on the increase, and not just at this season. When will be grow out of this selfish adolescence and back into the adulthoo
Blog: ACME AUTHORS LINK (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
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January 19th was National Popcorn Day. The local paper in my area had a large article about the wonders of popcorn and I must admit the smell and taste of movie popcorn is one of my favorite things. The article itself was nothing surprising, but it caught my attention simply because a few days before my husband and I had attended a matinee and discovered a large pop and popcorn cost $18.00, more than the tickets to the movie. We looked at each other in surprise and simultaneously decided we could go without popcorn. It was a small stand against outrageousness, but we denied our simple pleasure in order to stand against greed, even in its smallest way.
The following day I noticed a "Blondie" cartoon, by Stan Drake/Dean. I laughed outloud, knowing Stan must have had a similar encounter. The first frame had the couple standing at the theater's candy counter and Dagwood said, "We'd like to make a down payment on a tub of popcorn and two large drinks." The employee replied, "Would you like to pay in small weekly installments or two hefty semi-annual ones?"
As a farmer's wife, I must tell you popcorn is not an expensive commodity to grow. In our area several folks grow their own popcorn and I have bought from them and throughly enjoyed their product. It cost pennies to plant a sizeable garden and if you know anything about gardening, you quickly realize the return on planting to produce is more than a hundred fold! So why the hefty price on theater popcorn? Yes, yes, it's a special blend and tastes yummy! So does a steak at a nice restaurant and if I'm inclined to spend $18.00 to fill my belly, I'd chose the steak and feel as if I've spent my money wisely and fed my body with something nutritious. Yes, I hear the critics already, stating I'm missing the point, it's merely a snack. That's when I say, "YES, that's my point! A snack should not cost as much as a steak."
It's this type of ridiculousness that has our country in financial straits. We need to take a stand, quietly despite our growling tummies, and not fall victim for such blatant attempts to rob us right into the poor house.
I don't know if I'll be able to resist the enticing aroma of theater popcorn the next time we go to the movies. It will probably depend on whether we plan to go out to dinner. Will I want to spend my hard earned money on savory popcorn that will make me feel guilty for indulging or hold out for a nice meal?
I'm determined not to let my belly decide for me. Of course, that's easy to say sitting at a computer and the only aroma is my simmering tea.
Til next time ~
DL Larson
Blog: Yesisedit's Weblog (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
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Like some Japanese pine, I think heavy weights have been placed on some of my thoughts to try and bend them into “Correct” shape but my acid personality, I fear, probably has eaten away the wires that holds them in place and I keep going astray ”c)~
Blog: Yesisedit's Weblog (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
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As we are busy blaming “BP” for messing up the Gulf of mexico I would suggest a solution for oil barriers along the beautiful beaches there and in fact all along our coastlines. First I will direct you to search floating “debris in the gulf of Mexico”.
There are enough objects floating there that if gathered and strung along the beaches could cover all the coastlines of our country I believe. It is floating so we would not have to buy new floating barriers, all we need is nets, which could be made from shredding more of the junk out in the ocean. “BP” didn’t put it there, it came from the cities along the waterways that feed into the gulf.
Though much of it is oil byproducts washed out from storm drains, a lot came from the “Beautiful” beaches and those “Valuable tourists” that are so afraid of getting a tar ball on their tootsies visited and left behind. They should come back and volunteer to help clean it if they really care!
I also propose instead of dredging sand that will destroy animal habitat we build berms of the garbage that came from those beaches in the first place. It may be ugly, to say the least, but it would do more for the fish and birds in the region that get trapped in it than any other thing I can think of, just cover it with a small portion of sand from the tourist beaches.
The wild life doesn’t want it and it’s only fare that the people that made it take it back and recycle it or something. They need to pay for every bit of the pollution just like “BP”, all of us who let that junk float out to sea should pay for it to be cleaned up!
If an honest look at what is in the ocean was taken “BP” would look like small potatoes or in this case oil byproduct pollution.
Blog: Sugar Frosted Goodness (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
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Blog: Yesisedit's Weblog (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
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The old tale of Tortoise and Hare tells that falling asleep while doing a task is bad.
Jack the rabbit read it well, thought to himself, “the light this sheds is sad !”
No member of my global community is so lax, I’ll get that title back !
To that end he checked out the local Tortoise, Goggling on his computer for every fact.
He bought goggles and bomber cap from a site on the internet .
And while he was at it, found some sites and placed a few side bets.
The odds were good, in the turtles favor.
The money Jack knew he would soon savor !
Come race day the a crowd came out and the sun did shine.
The Tortoise was ready and Jackrabbit looked quite fine !
The race got started with a flurry and flash.
The rabbit was off like a shot but Tortoise got hung up in desert trash.
Jack was far out in front and in sight of the finish line .
But Coyote spied the race, thinking Tortoise and Hare would taste just fine.
Coyote joined in the race with turtle the first one he caught just rounding the bend.
Tortoise pulled up shy in his shell and, though Coyote knocked, would not let him come in.
So off Coyote sped to catch his other pray but Jack saw him coming and did not want to be Din Din.
As things often go the race was a bust and no body won.
Jack was diligent and did not sleep, so lived to have another son.
Tortoise, though he was slow, lived long and finally came out.
But Tortoise forgot what the race was about.
So when you hear another famous fable.
Just finish your spinach and clean up the crumbs before you leave the table.
So you may live long like Tortoise and Hare,
Though like Tortoise your mind may not be there.
And fast is good when you are fast as a bunny so you may outrun the danger.
Like Jackrabbit, you may have to change your course when chased by a stranger.
Blog: Yesisedit's Weblog (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
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Lucky is as lucky does but no rabbit he !
Lucky sees future things that wishes do not fulfill and makes them happen just because …
He knows the rabbit was not so lucky that gave a foot so that you might be …
Hamster ways like hamster days are short stepped and burrowed with mini paws …
But believe or don’t, the magic carried in his Shillelagh, makes no difference to him …
Shillelagh or no, making things happen is Lucky’s way …
Fury lil ball-o-fat forever treading mill is not his whim …
For every time a C notes found forget the leprechaun, it’s Lucky’s day !
Blog: Yesisedit's Weblog (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
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Few rewards are as fun as taking that first spin in you own car.
In my case it started out pretty quick to be “First series Chevy” trucks and through the years I have had seven that ran and this one will be my last I think.
Not because I wouldn’t want a thousand more but gas and the the roar of engines with a smell of burnt petroleum smokin from the tires is almost past to the status of legends.
Carburetors are tossed for EFI 350 V8 blocks or some such but give me that old stove bolt 6 that sounds like a well oiled sewing machine any day.
Gas that once was cheap even for a $0.75 an hour kid is hard to justify but I will until the dinosaurs give up the last drop I can afford just to feel the freedom of wind blowing through the cowl vent, windows down even in mid winter, the purr of early iron and finicky gauges bopping with the bumps and Mr. Butterfield’s ”East West” drifting with the breeze around my head from cheap speakers and a shared drink stashed between me and my girl.
There are few finer feelings than nowhere particular to go, all day to get there in no particular hurry.
Keep um rollin!
Blog: Yesisedit's Weblog (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
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Having fun is coloring outside the lines sometimes …
Having fun sometimes is no color at all …
And sometimes fun is really, really small
Blog: Yesisedit's Weblog (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
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He was young and idealistic but RANDOLPH
thought there would be no discrimination just
because he was a Black tail and not a Rein deer.
Unfortunately he had not counted on local
animosity of the more famous deer who worked there
and was found crossing the north pole border unlawfully.
It was said he must have lost his way or gone back home
and no further investigation was launched though many years later
rumors surfaced that he was spotted in Santa’s barbershop relaxing.
This could not be confirmed though because of the
security worries about lists compiled on humans stored there.
The tapes of all comments were lost some how by accidental erasure.
By Polar News Service …
Blog: Yesisedit's Weblog (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
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I am innocent I tells ya, It’s society made me do it.
Why sure that was my hand in your pocket but you never said I couldn’t do it.
If I’d heard even one moan I would have stopped and shot again but through the gurgles I never heard a tone.
The clergy said it was ok not to tell the truth on a need to know basis so I told you my name was Ruth.
Why just one twitch and I’d have started praying instead of preying, Honest, I say this without a hitch.
Had I known you didn’t want me to pull that trigger in the first place you wouldn’t have shown me your wallet was so much bigger.
My mother played a part for never spanking me ya know and my father said nothing, he wasn’t there, he had to go.
My teachers were all handcuffed by my lawyers, I would have sued them so, there’s profit in nonprofit don’t you know.
They never stopped me for speeding enough times and that warped my mind to have so many chances to cross the lines.
Drunk and murderous they once called it but had no more room in the mental ward so let me go which means I am cured now don’t you know.
No one cared as long as I was not knocking at their door so it is ok to do it if I do it to the poor.
The priest he said it was OK, that I should never tell. He had to go to another place but not to fear, he’d teach them there as well.
I am sorry Mr. John Doe, I was always on your side but you had too many golf clubs and such a pretty bride.
I was looking through your wallet and found a child or two, why didn’t you wear that wedding ring, I could have had that too.
The Army tried to do me right, maybe best of all but society had already messed me up so they sent me down the hall.
My brothers were all coming back it seems but had no place to go, the economy already took their jobs, left them with their nightmare dreams.
They sent the bad guy money makers, most of them, to jail. I mixed in quite well though I got a stiffer sentence while they all got to sail.
The judges were all concerned, it was so sad but their hands were tied, had it been up to them I may have surely died.
But society has set the course on which they then must follow, with hopes of course in a supreme seat they may also wallow.
And what about your cutting police and pay so a budget minded civic leader could get another raise, for that you win my praise!
He wasn’t here to see or even near to help me hear your plea.
So for your last gasp Mr. councilman it should be to thank yourself if you will, it was society did it to you, it wasn’t me!
Blog: Yesisedit's Weblog (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
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I can’t help but to keep thinking of all the religious strife that covers this planet all in the name of the all mighty.
I wonder how anything in this little place can be of any more significance
to that which is everything.
If one proton of one atom in my body has a billion solar systems in it’s being and one place there less than a speck of sand has beings living on it and they are made up of the same thing as I or I am made up of it because the speck and the me are one thing, inseparable except by my casting it out but I am all things so when I cast it out there is no place but back in to me it must go to be mixed again in an ever-changing, roiling mass of energy as known by me but which is unknowable to the speck. The total is me yet the speck is me.
I do not want to kill myself, I only want to let the speck change to my benefit. My purpose is only to be and the only battle should be against that opposite, not to be.
Perhaps Shakey Spear had it more right than is given credit except to be or not to be is not the question, it is the answer.
Blog: Yesisedit's Weblog (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
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Blog: Yesisedit's Weblog (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
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I just came inside after being outside looking in as I looked out … The stars were beautiful and I wondered how far my soul will really go when I am done here … I am not planning to leave any time soon but then you just never know … It’s a one way ticket you know … Even if it all comes around again and again it gets tweaked each time with a butterfly sneezing a little differently each time and it’s so vast the odds of it being the same twice are too much to behold except by the totality of itself … but that doesn’t stop me from looking out , not up but out to where my consciousness will expand one bright , sunny, rainy night as a new day dawns somewhere just before midnight and I am amazed I get to behold such wonders and know you in the same breath .
Have a wonderful new day and don’t sweat the small stuff, just enjoy the good now because you can’t keep it where we are going anyway!
Blog: Yesisedit's Weblog (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
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Phil Anthropuss was a pinstriper, he said, by trade . He could do it all, eyes closed, one hand tied, was the boast that he made. But someone threw him a curve, it was a baseball and he almost died. For long pulls were his specialty, he cried, but before he was done he’d reach the other side !!! The bystanders were loaded but so was his dagger, just the right amount of One Shot and swagger. He took from his kit one more brush and a catcher’s mitt. Then with a swish so cunning and bright he floated the thing with a twist and a flip of delight. A brush in one hand and the other in lip, his swaggered daggers flashed as ball fell from above, landing quit nicely in the palm of his glove. The crowd milled round to see how he did, he moved his tip cup out while the ball he kept coyly hid. As coins fully filled the money flagon he bowed when they moaned to see, then produced the sphere he had so artfully played on, while beaming with glee. But alas it was a mess, all goopy and wet, no line could be deciphered, it was a wreck and yet … He claimed the money put in his vase , stuck it in his pocket and scrammed from that place .
Blog: Welcome to my Tweendom (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
JacketFlap tags: greed, fantasy, politics, racism, Goddess, thieves, Alfred A. Knopf Books for Young Readers, arc 10/09, cobblers, socio economic class, Roderick Townley, Add a tag
How can you not love this title? And this gorg cover?
Aplanap is one heck of a place to live. Seemingly quaint, it’s known for its “tilted streets, cuckoo clocks, and Finster cheese…” (arc p.3) yet it harbors a bit of a dark secret. Okay, not so much a secret, but a mayor who is slightly certifiable in his disdain for beggars (who are instantly banished to the working jail of Mount Xexnax) and his love for his greedy wife Ludmilla.
Ludmilla is quite fond of gems, and since she is the mayor’s wife, she need not pay for anything that she wants. When the mayor hears about an exquisite shoe that local shoemaker Grel has fashioned out of all sorts of blue gemstones, he insists on seeing it. Not surprisingly, he then wants it wrapped and delivered to his sweet Luddy. Grel refuses and the mayor reminds him of the agreement he made prior. Grel had saved the life of a pickpocket boy named Hap by promising to apprentice him on the agreement that he would in turn give Luddy any shoes that she wants. Grel stands his ground, however, since the stranger who commissioned this one shoe paid for it in full – he asks the mayor if he really would like to steal it (thievery being frowned upon in Aplanap by way of Mound Xexnax as well).
Before long a curse seems to fall on the sleepy little village. The weather turns making tourists scarce, and soon there are actually beggars on the street. Hap feels a kinship with a beggar girl who he spies, and tries to help her several times before she gets caught by the mayor’s police for begging. Hap remembers Grel’s kindness to him, and decides that taking a gem from the shoe that has never been picked up to pay the girl’s fine is worth the risk. What Hap doesn’t count on is all of the gems fading into regular river pebbles on the removal of the single stone. Hap again is charged as a thief, this time with the disastrous sentence of Mount Xexnax.
Roderick Townley has written a fantastical adventure that is filled with action, close calls, magic and a dash of romance. Truly a rollicking read, The Blue Shoe has equal appeal to boys and girls, and is a fun single volume (shocking!) fantasy. I found myself reading well into the night wanting to see what Hap and his friends were going to do next. Illustrations by Mary Grand Pre bring this book to the next level. While I read the arc version, the first edition will be printed in blue ink and have a cover worthy of the shoe. Good versus Evil hasn’t been so rich in a while!
Alfred A. Knopf Books for Young Readers, thieves, socio economic class, race struggles, fantasy, Goddess, greed, cobblers, politics, arc 10/09
Blog: Welcome to my Tweendom (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
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Milton has successfully managed to get back to the “Stage” leaving Marlo and his friends down there. He is racked with guilt, and isn’t quite sure that Heck really even existed. Since Heck is ultimately a purgatory, Milton decides to go visit Damian in the hospital to figure out if everything that he thinks happened after the fateful marshmallow explosion actually did happen!
Meanwhile, Marlo has been moved to Rapacia – the second circle of Heck which is overseen by the Grabbit; a rhyming, mechanical bunny of sorts. The kicker is that the Grabbit’s warren is located just beneath the best mall ever. Mallvana has everything that a greedy little shoplifter like Marlo could ever want. If only she could convince her demon teachers to let her go there.
Well Marlo is Marlo, and who better to deal with demons and double crossers than she? Along with her passel of frenemies (Lyon, Bordeaux, Norm, and Jordie) Marlo is forced to wear the latest in retirement fashion, and take classes in heckonomics. Marlo isn’t surprised by much in Heck, but she soon finds herself under the Grabbit’s spell. She is jonesing to shoplift in a big way, and only to bring the spoils to her new Vice Principal. When she is approached to make the biggest heist in Heck history (the hopeless diamonds), how can she refuse? Will Marlo be able to break free of the Grabbit, or will she simply become another minion in the race to get more, more, more?
Daly E. Basye has written a darker follow up to the initial installment in the Heck series. Instead of poop and ping-pong balls, readers are exploring cultish religions, the idea of Greed with a capital “G”, as well as pondering the difference between want and need. Don’t get me wrong…it is still pun central here in Heck with references that run the sublime to the absurd, it just seems that the audience for the second book needs a maturity level a bit higher than required for Heck: Where the Bad Kids Go. Marlo has the seeds of a crush going, and even though Heck is a place where time stands still, Marlo, Milton and the other kids are growing world weary from trying to “survive”. I am interested in seeing where this series goes, since there are, after all, 7 circles you know where.
Blog: Stacy A. Nyikos (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
JacketFlap tags: greed, lying, anger, PJ Hoover, pride, lust, Keri Mikulski, envy, gluttony, sloth, Writing it Out, Hello Ello, Lilly's Life, Gutsy Writer, sinful nature, Rena Jones, Add a tag
Green Girl tagged me with this sinful post:
"Sometimes you can learn more about a person by what they don’t tell you. Sometimes you can learn a lot from the things they just make up. If you are tagged with this Meme, lie to me. Then tag 7 other folks (one for each deadly sin) and hope they can lie."
Whew. The pressure is on. Good lying. Here goes:
Pride
What is your biggest contribution to the world?
Gosh, what a tough question. It's a real toss up between those highly acclaimed academic tomes on the principles of cold fusion and my spicy spaghetti recipe.
Envy
What do your coworkers have that you wish was yours?
Anonymity. I get hounded all the time by eager tweens begging me to please, please, please write a sequel to Dragon Wishes.
Gluttony
What did you eat last night?
Monte Cristo sandwich, fries, and baked fudge with ice cream and whipped cream. It's a real tragedy to have one of those metabolisms that just won't let you put on any weight. What's a girl to do but eat?
Lust
What really lights your fire?
Apathy. I'm so tired of men who know what they want. Couldn't they be wishy washy for a change? Not know what they want? Take years to propose? Why do they have to hurry us so?
Anger
What is the last thing that really pissed you off?
The recent election demonstrations in Iran. How dare those forward thinkers try and bring about democracy, or even fairness in election voting returns. What do they think this is, the 21st century?
Greed
Name something you hoard and keep from others:
Manuscripts. Move over Emily Dickinson. Just wait till I die. Oh, the treasures the world will find.
Sloth
What’s the laziest thing you ever did?
Gave one word answers to open-ended questions.
Disclaimer: I may be an author, but I'm not sure I'm the wittiest one when it comes to answering questions like these. It's all that Catholic upbringing. I can feel the weight of Purgatory bearing upon me as I fudge the truth. I swear! May these writers be more unencumbered in their yarn spinning :-)
ROOTS IN MYTH
Gutsy Writer
Hello Ello
Keri Mikulski
Lilly's Life
Rena Jones
Writing it Out
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Thanks Donna and Casey. Fear can paralyze. When I feel it rising within me, I have learned to say, “Fear, I will not let you steal my joy!” I just realized that I refer to theft, just like in the example Casey chose. Wow! How about that?
Hi Linda! I feel the same way you do… fear is a thief of joy. So glad you have found a great way to combat it!
This was a wonderful blog, Donna. Thoughtful and very timely for me. Thanks so much.
Thanks for this reminder about what fear can do to rob us of life. And John 10:10 is what the Lord gave me when I found out I was having twins and was momentarily inundated with all sorts of fears!
Thank YOU for your encouragement, too, my friend.
Exactly! I have have been reminded of this verse so many times!