A Tribute

by diane mccloskey, Jul 29, 2008
To he who understood the imaginings of childhood. We are forever grateful.
All he did was rhyme.And he made up words, and he made up creaturesAnd he made up ridiculous scenarios.And the more ridiculous, the better.And he illustrated some and the illustrations were as crazy as the plots.Sometimes there were no plots, no reason, no rhyme.Still his popularity soared.Parents cherished him--children adored him…Over and over and over.The Cat in the Hat,One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish.Children understood him,Parents could read him,He most definitely understood children.He has resonated through generations,As popular now as he was then--Timeless.May he reign forever in the hearts of babesAnd the young at heart as well.Our dearest friendWe love him soSo many booksWe've come to knowDr. Suess,You're our best friendWe'll always love you,Start to end.

Being Different

by Autumnrose, Jul 14, 2008
Just a little about who I am and why I'm proud of not being the typical teenage slave to popularity and consumerism.

Everybody knows the phrase “It's okay to be different.” It's on about a million different posters, t-shirts, mugs, et cetera. Despite this over-use and slight cheese factor, this phrase happens to be the one I live by. I abhor trends, fads, and wanting to be just like a celebrity. It seems like everywhere I look around, there is a montage of sheep, teenage sheep with their designer handbags (honestly, who in their right mind would spend thousands on a purse?), super-trendy little cell phones, and the latest piece of clothing that everybody's wearing.
I am not your typical teenage girl, and I happen to be quite proud about it. I wear what I want. If I feel like wearing jeans and a t-shirt every day of the week, I go for it. If I feel like spicing it up and wearing a long, swishy skirt one day, I do. I carry my lucky stuffed otter around school on days when I have a math test. I never go on Myspace or Facebook - if I want to have a conversation, then I have a real conversation. I hate all reality shows, especially American Idol, and I think MTV is a complete waste of time. My cell phone does not have a camera, Internet, or any other unnecessary money-waster. I am always extremely under my minutes on my phone bill every month. My two best friends live in Amsterdam and Jakarta. I have two spider plants I grew from babies named Fred and Steve that I talk to every day. I am an eclectic solitary Wiccan and sport my pentacle, Stonehenge charm, and/or crystal with pride. I have no shame in admitting that I play Dungeons and Dragons. My half-elf bard is truly amazing - the balance of good and evil in the whole world depends upon me (in our campaign at least). I have no desire to be popular or hang out with the “coolest” girls, chatting about makeup, which boy band is cuter, or whatever they giggle about while painting their toenails. Instead, I hang out with a bunch of guys, watching movies, goofing off, and going to Waffle House every single weekend, or I just hang out with myself, meditating and listening to music on a rock in the middle of a creek. If I feel like someone's treating me or anyone I care about unfairly, you bet I am going to speak up, no matter how embarrassing or against the status quo it may be.
That long, jumbly paragraph is just the short list of why I am truly different. Believe it or not, though, it took a long time to build up the courage to be this way. Back in middle school, there was one group I most desperately wanted to fit into, and that, surprisingly, was Goth. I dressed in all black (yup, chains and all), wrote morbid, whiny poetry, and eschewed every bit of outer emotion that was not negative. I even wore heavy black eyeliner every single day. This went on for about a year and a half, and I was the perfect little Goth kid except for one thing. I was not really sad or depressed all of the time. I did not really hate daylight. Even though I listened to it all of the time, I hated heavy metal and Marilyn Manson. To put it bluntly, I was a phony. Finally, in the middle of my eighth grade year, I had had enough. From then onward, I decided not to try and squeeze myself into a particular social category. Categories are for file cabinets, not people!
The moral of my tale here is that people do not have to go with the flow, fit in, or stick to the status quo. Go ahead and be a sheep if it makes your little heart happy, but I am free of all that foolishness. I am different.
To read more from Autumnrose please click here https://www.triond.com/users/Autumnrose

The 10 Best Kitchen Implements For Fighting Off a Ninja

by Aaron Hanlon, Mar 9, 2008

These utensils are imperative to use to defend yourself from the spontaneous attack of a ninja in your kitchen.
The Spatula
The spatula is a cunning weapon. It gives extra reach and allows you to slap the Ninja repeatedly in the face. Ninja's have an aversion to being slapped. It offends their sense of masculinity and may help to undermine their confidence. Warning: It may also help to aggravate them. Expect an increase in the ferocity of their attack. So duck and slap and duck again really fast.
The Chopping BoardThe wooden chopping board is invaluable when defending your self from a Ninja attack. Ninja have a propensity for using throwing stars, nasty if they hit you. But the wooden chopping board, when used as a shield will quickly mop up his supply. Warning: Do not discard your chopping board too quickly. Ninja are known for being sneaky individuals. He may yet have a star or two hidden up his sleeve. Be Patient.
The MopThe Mop is an excellent weapon for dealing with attacking Ninja's. Holding the shaft firmly in your hand wave the mopping end vigorously in the Ninja's face. As Ninja's are Japanese, their oldest enemies are the Chinese and the Chinese warriors carried spears with tassels placed just below the stabbing end. Somewhere deep in his subconscious the Ninja will believe he is fighting a truly worthy warrior and may just give up and go home. Warning: The Ninja just might be able to hold onto the idea that you are not in fact a Chinese warrior but are in fact just a man with a mop. Still the mop will come in handy after the fight for cleaning up the blood.
PlatesPlates are handy for a fight in a kitchen because there tend to be lots of them around. Throw the plates at the Ninja in quick procession. Not only may you hit him with them but the plates will break when they hit the floor and due to a Ninja's inadequate foot ware there is a good chance he will get splinters in his feet. (ouch) Warning: Ninja's are trained to dodge throwing stars so your chances of actually hitting him are pretty poor. And don't use your best china.
KnivesThere are plenty of knives to choose from in the average kitchen. But don't go for the stylish little steak knives. Go for the cleavers, (in this situation bigger is better) bread knives are also good too but it can be a bit difficult getting your Ninja to keep still long enough for you to saw through his arm. Warning: Ninja's are trained swords men and no matter how big your knife you can be sure he will have a bigger one.
ForksOkay we are clutching at straws here. The Fork is not a great attack weapon but it can be good as a defensive weapon. When the Ninja attacks with his sword try and catch the blade between the forks prongs then twist the handle of the fork sharply. If your Ninja has bought his sword at a discount store it may snap. Warning: catching a blade that is coming at your rather quickly between the prongs of as fork may take a bit of practise and you only have so many limbs spare to get it right.
The Frying PanWe are back on a more solid footing here. The Frying pan is both a good attacking weapon as well as a defensive one. It can block most weapons at the Ninja's disposal and it makes a great noise when you hit someone in the head with it. Block, strike and block again, marvellous. Warning: In order to attack with a frying pan you really do have to get very close to the Ninja. Getting close to an attacking Ninja is not really a great idea as they have many small sharp objects that they just love to stick into people that invade their personal space.

The CookerA gas cooker is best used in this attack. First you have to get the cooker on. So while dodging and ducking first turn on the gas, then light it. Do not try to do both of these things at the same time. Ninja's are quick, you might be surprised just how quick and you will need both your arms for the next bit. Then while distracting the Ninja with some cleaver finger puppetry guide him to the cooker and trick him into putting his arm, or even better his head into the flames (going for the head should only be attempted by true experts). Warning: Not all Ninja's are enthralled by finger puppetry and if your first attempts at it don't impress him move on quickly, don't keep trying it, this will only bore the Ninja and he will quickly remember why he is there.
Salt and PepperWe are now down to chemical warfare. It may be banned by the UN but you may not time to read the fine print in the rules of war documentation supplied to warring factions to worry about this. Salt is for the eyes (his, not yours) and the pepper is for the nose. The salt will quickly blind your Ninja attacker and the pepper will wreak havoc with his breathing. Don't spend too much time trying to apply these chemicals with precision. A broad application to the general face area will suffice. Warning: Ninja's ware face masks, so the pepper may not quite hit the mark. And if you miss with the salt you probably won't get another chance.
Cooking oilThis works best if you have stone tiles laid in your kitchen. If you don't do not under any circumstances try any lay them while under attack, it's a messy and time consuming task. Apply the oil vigorously to the floor and then run away. The Ninja will come after you as surely as a dog will chase a ball and with any luck slip on the oil and hit his head upon you stone tiles. Warning: Ninja's are very good jumpers and may jump over the oil. If this happens and you have now left the kitchen you are in real trouble because this guide only deals with attacks in the kitchen and has no advice for you once you have left it. So only use oil if you are sure it will work. Perhaps you could check if your attacking Ninja has a bit of a limp and is less likely to be able to make the jump.

To Read more from Aaron Hanlon please click here https://www.triond.com/users/Aaron+Hanlon

Curiosity Kills

by jenny ellen, Sep 25, 2008
Curiosity, cats and catastrophes.

They say that stupidity killed the cat and curiosity was framed; yet I am inclined to disagree. Perhaps it would be more apt to say that the cat was merely accustomed to circumstances involving danger or hazardous conditions and simply followed instincts that it had always owned and did, therefore, throw itself into the boiling cauldron of broth. It is feasible to say that the people claiming that it was due to the cat’s own penchant for finding trouble and diving straight into peril that it was killed could also be those that had surrounded it and taught it- subtlety and intention not being the issue- that it was right and good to follow such intuition. Then there is the question of why, exactly, the cat was placed in such a situation in the first place. After all, it is not predominantly common for a cat to land itself in a position of risk. Maybe it saw a little mouse- the bait- and chose its prey without knowledge of what lay beyond. It is even plausible to consider the fact that the cat wished to help or save something: a kitten or its favourite toy. However, personally I would say that it is not the cat’s fault at all and that the owner- loving, caring, feeding, guiding- was the one to seal its fate. Certainly the cat is no unintelligent being; it understands the ways of the world and knows in most cases not to soil the rug or take pleasure in clawing through its master’s best clothes. Communication is seldom a problem for most cats and they have the ability to get a point across with little trouble simply by performing and action or meowing. Surely if the cat is not regarded as a creature of stupidity then it should be able to care for itself, should it not? But, of course, what if the cat’s plight was that it was so intelligent that an owner saw fit to train it to become obedient and influenced the ways in which it reacted to situations. If the cat was taught to be curious or of little credibility when it came to making decisions that might actually matter in its life (rather, of course, than not fouling the floor or chasing the birds) then it may well be because of that that the cat ended up lifeless. If a mad instinct was forced into the cat’s mind then perhaps it would be impossible for the creature to ignore it and this is what sent it spiraling onto hot bricks as it were. In the end we will never really understand what it was that killed the cat because it is too late and the cat is dead. Perhaps, then, in the future when more of these cats are to be put in such situations then their owners and care givers would do better not to misguide their pets and then contradict their teachings or feign complete and utter blissful innocence when their cat is to the pan.

Spirit I Can See

by Scarlett Donnely, Sep 18, 2008
What happens when you can see something that no one else can?
Every morning I see the dead
Is it all just in my head
Perhaps its not what it seems
I am living in my dreams
Many years I have seen this ghost
He long had left his body host
His shadow blinks past the doors
Heavy footsteps heard on the floors
A raspy voice as loud as breath
Consequences of a sudden death
He wanders that place all alone
An empty house once a home
A spirit only I can see
So he laughs and waves at me
Then he leaves and so he's gone
Until the sun again will dawn

To read more of Scarlett Donnely's work click here https://www.triond.com/users/Scarlett+Donnely

Summer Storms

by Rebecca Anne Grant, Mar 20, 2008
Summer storms are exciting for me and my family.

Sitting on my back porch swing,
listening to my children sing.
Summer breezes blowing through my hair,
as storms approach us from nowhere.
The smell of honeysuckle ripe on the vine mixes with a cool mist so fine.
Watching the trees do their dance,
with each gust bowing,
to the rain by chance.
Lightning flashes in our eyes,
proceeded by thunder with all its’ surprise.
Leaves take flight like a baby bird, bobbing and falling,that looks so absurd.
Up from the dirt comes a funnel of dust, then another rumble, the rain clouds bust.As each drop of water hits the ground, I can almost hear a sizzling sound.We can see the heat as it starts to rise, like it’s the earth’s spirit flying to the skies.Now the day is as dark as the night, which makes the lightning seem more bright.The rain is coming down so fast; I know that all this excitement will not last.So, we sit and swing and enjoy the show, singing to the storms on their go.They hug our bodies with their windy embrace, kissing us with rain on our face.Their wispy fingers play the chimes, nothings more beautiful than these times.They leave us as quickly as they are seen, washing our world and leaving it green.

Love, Pure and Simple

by Glynis Smy, Aug 18, 2008
Love, simple and true.

Think of the softest, finest velvet, warm and sensual, that's how she feels, think of the sheerest most perfect shimmering gossamer, that's what her skin looks like, her hair, straight, sleek and it shines like a waterfall cascading. The girl has entered my heart and I know she'll never leave. I try to clear my head of her image and concentrate on the workload lying on my desk, yet here I am a 38-year-old insurance clerk, day dreaming of a girl I have briefly met. Every time I close my eyes I see her, I can smell her perfume, I just want to hold her, my god, I'm a macho guy, not some fancy pants describing softness in its rawest form, not some Romeo sweeping the princess off her feet.In case you think I'm some kind of fruit case I'd better introduce myself, I'm Dave walker, I lead a non-descriptive lifestyle, I drink with the lads and pop to mums for a Sunday roast every third Sunday and I've just met Lisa.
Think of solid timber, the strongest kind, of mountains so high they take your breath away, of dark glossy coal, that's what his eyes remind me of, I can smell woody pine and that's his smell, oh my god, I can't get him out of my head, I must type this work up and forget Dave and concentrate, I'm too old at thirty seven to be daydreaming I'm a down to earth secretary for an insurance company.
Our story starts when we were working on a joint venture of our companies, Dave works for west and son and I work for Jilkers UK.
My money had not been accepted by the vending machine and he bought my coffee for me, he handed me the money and our hands touched briefly, that was enough, just a simple gesture, but it showed me he had a thoughtful, kind manner. We met for lunch, the evening meal and drinks, everything was perfect.
Her money had been rejected and she looked so angry, her eyes shone and I swear she stamped her foot. I bought her coffee and it went from there. She was perfect.Months have gone by now and we are so happy, even the annoying habits are acceptable.
Walks in the park are the best, they cost nothing and as we are saving for our future together we make the most of them. We feed the ducks and picnic in the summer, the sun's warmth tingling bare arms and legs.
Our lives are simple, nothing dramatic happens, no mountains move, we are just happy. Dave's not a romantic but the red roses and the champagne suppers are treasured by me. Lisa's not one of those soppy, giggly girls, but her texts speak volumes and the way she prepares my favourite meal with candles around the room, wearing the slinkiest clothing you can think of, to me that is pure romance.
We are sitting here by the sea, the sun is setting and the orange glow across the water can be seen for miles, the air is warm and the sand soft, we are holding each other in silence, watching the shimmering waters, simple people leading simple lives. I stroke her hair it smells so sweet, he holds me in his arms so strong, so loving.My love for Lisa has expanded beyond belief tonight, she put her tiny hand in mine, and she looked into my eyes and kissed my lips, so soft, so gentle. I never thought my love for Dave could grow anymore, he holds my hand, and when I told him he was going to be a dad I felt his happiness and love in his kiss. There's not a lot of romance or money in our lives, just pure love.