Drum roll............. and it is giveaway time. Turns out the Rafflecopter does work.... it also tells me lies and tries to confuse me though. Like telling me that my giveaway has started when it has not and having the dates all the wrong way around. But it seems to be working. So these three books will be the ones the winner... who so ever that may be.... will be able to chose out of. I went with Start Here because it is a similar book to the other two that were voted in... Before You Meet Prince Charming and Making Brothers and Sisters Best friends. Hopefully Rafflecopter continues to work so enter away!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Entry is open to International readers too because I will buy the book and get it posted straight to you; after you chose which one and tell me your address... which for obvious reasons if you are the winner, will be necessary. Unless I already know where you live...

Note (for those who have never used Rafflecopter: with Rafflecopter you need to put in your email then completer however many of the tasks (like commenting on or following my blog) you want. each task gets you one or two entries, the more entries you have the more chance of winning. At the end Rafflecopter will pick a random winner. And once I verify their entries, they have won and so on.

Well I have got myself in for it, I signed up to do a challenge in which I must write 100 words of my story/story related (like character development) each day for 100 days. It yet remains to be seen if I shall actually succeed in this or fail. But I figured I  had to at lest try, so here I go... I did 251 words on Monday and I have done 201 today. (Yes more than 100 is allowed).

And I must also announce that this is my 299th post.... so the giveaway shall be my next one and after that I shall do something about the bush tucker/survival camp we went on last weekend.... and one with lots of photos in it... photos of what, you will have to wait and see.

The Godolphin Arabian started his life in Yemen

Before he sailed across the seas wide

But he could have been a barb or as thought Arabian

In his new home they counted only the height of his side

No longer prized, but to pull a weighty wagon sent 

Underfed and yet undaunted without a pedigree

For years to work unworthily he went

But somehow someone later, his worth did see

So sold to a stud where he had his first offspring

With Lady Roxana he sired Lath a leggy colt 

Lath a gold-touched bay beautiful for admiring

And when running went like a wind or crossbow bolt

Lath won the Queen's Plate nine times out of nine

Then from the pair more colts came, Cade and Regulus

Gold-touched bay again with crested conformation fine

To have the Godolphin as sire was a plus

Though he himself could not race, as a race stud

He excelled, and all equine were exceptionally fast

If they had in them the Godolphin  blood

He was a prized stallion, much sought after at last

Now as a fast Thoroughbred forefather we see

The great Godolphin Arabian gallop 

Through many a most marvelous horse’s pedigree

And make their fleet feet pick up

Along with Darley Arabian and the Byerley Turk 

Stallions from which all Thoroughbreds do descend

We see the magnificent Godolphin’s blood at work

And that brings this tale telling to an end

A sketch I did years ago.... 

A bird call like that of a sea bird rang through the air; I recognised it as that of a black cockatoo. Four of the huge black birds flapped slowly through the gum trees and settled in pairs on two of the branches of a large gum. I ran outside with my camera. The early morning sunlight streamed down on the dew laden grass and the cold air chilled my face and fingers. I left a trail of higher, greener grass behind me where before the dew drops had turned the grass a silver green and weighed each blade down with their abundance. 

I could now plainly see the yellow cheek patches and undersides of their tails. The Yellow-tailed Black cockatoos flew from the large gum tree to another and another seemingly inspecting the big gums for nesting holes. Then they cried their long “kee-ow” seabird sounding cry, and flew off with their slow, and graceful wing-beat.

In a tangle of bushes, trees and sweet scented Jasmine vine, is a platform of sticks and in the centre of that are more sticks. These sticks curve up out of the platform and almost meet at the top. I creep silently up and catch a glimpse of the female Satin Bowerbird standing there. Then she sees me and is gone. Leaving behind his collection of blue bits and pieces scattered around on the platform, the male Satin Bowerbird disappeared too, up into the bushy tree with her. 

His bower really is a marvelous creation, and the time he builds it in! One day I went looking for it and found nothing, then just the next afternoon he had built a bower there, thin still, but a lot more than nothing. Since then he has built it up thicker and so the top comes closer to touching. It is not a nest but a throne for female birds to sit in while he puts on a display and shows off all his blue bits he has found, along with the occasional purple or yellow feather, onion peel of straw. 

After the Yellow-tailed Black cockatoos flew off and their calls faded into the distance I heard them call again, a lot closer, or maybe I should say I heard their call but it did not come from a Yellow-tailed Black cockatoo. The Male Satin Bowerbird sat in the tree the call came from, he mimics many other birds too and it can be confusing, because I hear and often don’t realise it is the bowerbird at first.  He makes the call of a Kookaburra, Willy-Wagtail, Australian Wood duck and other birds, along with his own. These too he may use to attract the females.

Last Month I mentioned the Australian Ravens. Now I can hear the cry of a young bird from the nest high in the gum tree. Ravens are scavengers and mostly eat road kill. We have a lovely fountain in our yard that all the birds like but the birds that visit it most often are the ravens, carrying lumps of “something” in their claws. They sit on the side of the fountain/birdbath and rip apart their meal taking sips of water between mouthfuls. 

We have had a few “presents” left behind too, like bones, a bird leg and claw and half of what looked like a Noisy Miner bird’s beak, the leg could have belonged to it as well. The ravens regularly fly down into the chook yard and eat the layer pellets I put down for my hens, they also eat any other scraps meant for the chooks if I leave before the chooks have finished eating.

I took the camera out the other day and waited while I fed the chooks rice and bread but no ravens arrived. I left to get something from inside and the ravens returned. They flew away as soon as I came back, this cycle we repeated for about an hour.  I didn’t get a single photo worth keeping of a raven. I did however get a very nice shot of a male Butcherbird.

I have also seen a pair of Red-Rumped Grass Parrots hopping around in the grass, they are such sweet birds. The females may be a bit plain but the male birds are such a sparkly green and with their beautiful red rump the do stick out. It is amazing just how many shades of green one bird can have, our creator is amazing!

Do you find these posts on local bird activity interesting?

What sort of birds have you seen recently?

Do you bird watch?

When about to sing the last two songs out the front at church and I get an eye lash stuck in my eye and can’t get it out…. My eye proceeds to water and I need to blink and It is hard to read the words…. Luckily I did know them fairly well…. But it made it rather less than enjoyable and not at all easy to concentrate….

When I have a huge bandage thing around my thumb and go out to a restaurant with my mum… people looked at it…. And then…well I had to eat the hamburger thing….without using my thumb.

The next day I have a smaller bandage…. Well pad with band aid holding it on and people either ask why or keep glancing at it until I tell them…. And that continues for a few more days…

You ask why…well I’ll say that battling bare handed and without any weapons with a grater is not the most sensible thing to do and you will probably end up the worst off, possibly as I did with a third of my fingernail missing… well not missing but ripped and with a grater shaped hole of skin mostly detached from my finger…. Which is quite painful.

I found out just how many things I like to use my thumb for… like typing and writing. Not being able to use my thumb made doing some simple things rather awkward… like tying up my hair… I haven’t had any one else do my hair for ages…. Until I had to get Jane to help my tie it up the other day.

Having to politely tell someone very nicely that…. no thankyou I don’t want any more as I think it is utterly disgusting and with some of the most revolting tastes I’ve ever tasted, well telling them that without telling them that. 

When Jane starts reading out things from a book titled “Clare’s stories” while we were going through boxes of really old stuff from when we went to school… and older.

On a Saturday Samuel was told “You need to do your hair, it hasn’t been done for days”
“It was done on Sunday”

We watch Star Wars and afterwards Jane says about Darth Vader “I find his lack of face disturbing”

Getting stuck on a gate holding chook eggs, because for some silly reason I decided to not wear shoes into the chook yard. And even though he is normally fine in the middle of the day my Orpington rooster decided he would eat my toes off it I put my feet down any lower on either side of the gate.

Sitting watching a book week presentation where the library staff are, well being rather silly (in my POV, they seemed to enjoy it though) while acting out stories, and me wondering what in the world I was doing there. Then to make matters worse I had to go up the front and tell/make up part of a story. Have I mentioned I completely hate telling stories/acting or anything of the sort in front of others, even if they are people I like… even if they are my mum… or library staff who are joining in….. And I had almost made up my mind to remove myself before they got me up here… Besides I can’t make up a good story ending when the whole story is pointless and I have no paper or time. injuredprideinmystories

Having a conversation with another girl and both running out of questions and ideas and having no idea what to say… where to look… what to do….

Losing my phone, in tall clover….. and searching and searching for it. And thinking “now what I need is a phone so I can call mummy and get her to ring my phone…” the problem was I had lost my phone… which was why I needed it. (You might also like to know God answered my prayer and despite all I did actually happen to find it, which is truly amazing!)

Getting told not to let Ann drown herself in the bath, I figured it wouldn’t be hard, but then I imagined the being drowned happening by her going under. Instead it happened by her lifting up a container of water and pouring it into her mouth and lungs…… and so ensued a coughing and spluttering….. in the end she did not quite succeed in drowning despite her best efforts.

I am almost up to 300 posts on my blog so I have been thinking for my 300th I should do a giveaway! But the question that has been racing around my head is what and how can it be for all my American/international readers as well as my Australian ones, (most of which I know personally). I have come up with an idea. Naturally the prize will be a book and I shall buy it from Book Depository, but I shall do so after the giveaway winner has been announced so I can get the book posted straight to them and it is as easy for it to go to somewhere international as here. 

So unless you are an alien or a human who for some reason has gone to live on Mars I should be able to send it to you easily. Sorry aliens if there are any reading this, which I highly doubt. The next question I must face is "what book?" and "do I actually decide on a final book or let the winner chose out of three?" and in that case "which three?" There just happen to be a lot of good books in the world. 

I'm not yet sure how I am going to do the giveaway, I may use Rafflecopter... but that depends greatly on if I can get it to work, have never tired to do anything with it before.... other than enter a giveaway. If that does not work then I shall have to draw names out of a hat. 

I think the answer to what book will be which three but I currently have thought of five so if you would like to comment and tell me which three you think I should have to choose out of or else just one which you feel really must be included in the three.

 

 

Before You Meet Prince Charming, Making Brothers and Sisters Best Friends, Joshua, Start Here and Till We Have Faces. I have read all these books and they are what I consider must reads. 

I (Clare) will just mention a little something before you read what Irene has written. Irene is..... well, she is from a fantasy realm that as of yet has no name, is ruled by the Lord and Lady Morlan.... I think and she (Irene) is the daughter of Aurelia (Aw-REEL-ee-uh) and Farnear, though not their true daughter. The following was written by her after a long time of studying stories. And of course she is real! I made her up and so she exists and is real, don't tell me she is not, if you do, I shall just have to disagree. And there is also a great chance you will have mostly no idea about what Irene is talking about, I don't blame you, I don't understand it entirely either. I warn you though while you read such things as are written in Irene's world (which as of yet I have not found its name) watch out for things that may come through.... such as Twargs, or even Unicorns.

Stories: by Irene Arianwyn, Third of the Relinquished

There is something about stories that allows them to move unlike any other matter. It could be just because of what they are; the telling of things that happened elsewhere. That too is how they begin. The story floats in little fragments through the being of matter and some people have the power to catch those little fragments, fragments are easy to catch. Fragments are normally all that is caught but some people can catch more than that. They are those we call writers. At times the writers struggle to pin down the story. Some do it better than others. Only a few writers can actually see the true story in its true light. Often things are lost in the translation, lost in the weaving, but occasionally comes one writer who has the power and skill to catch a story whole, sometimes years are needed to accomplish a deed like this, as well as the greatest of skill. 

Stories are flighty things, but as I said before they move like nothing else can. They are things that pass through places. They go from their own place to another by ways we cannot understand. Other things, even people, do this at times but it happens very seldom. Sometimes when life becomes too dangerous for a species in one place it becomes easier for them to move. But the stories - those that are caught and woven into books - themselves become like doors. Through them we glimpse the places the story has travelled from, the clarity depending on how well the writer caught it.

Stories can be twisted though. Writers without the greater skills can misinterpret the scraps they catch. A story is most elusive. One of the worst things, though, is when the writer can’t tell the stories apart and they get mixed. 

Why do we chase stories? Well it can be to find those doors. Or because the chase is such fun, some people chase animals to kill or catch or just for the pure joy of it. So do the writers, we chase to catch the story, to find the door, to capture is joy, but care must be taken that they are not killed. A dead story can be worse than no story; even a lost story is preferable. 

Then there are the untold stories, now, we only have little hints of them. Hints where they lock in with other stories. We glimpse fragments from the past of other worlds. Stories have a way of intertwining with others. Maybe one day they will be caught, woven and pinned down, but until then, they are wonderfully entrancing and moving in their mystery. 

Stories drift further into this world when water falls, or flows fast. This explains the phenomenon of why writers often glimpse so many story fragments while sitting by streams or washing themselves with water. The difficulty then is that it is excruciating trying to pin the fragments down afterwards, and even to remember all of them. One must be even more talented to hold a story in one’s head, mostly that gift has been lost, but it still exists, in small amounts. No longer do we have bards and great wandering story tellers who have a plethora of them pinned down and together in their heads. We do have books though. Books have the advantage that they do not die, and anyone can hold and see into the worlds through them.

Stories are easier to grasp when we are almost in them. That time comes when we are closer to a door, of some description. As we are, just before we enter the realm of dreams. Writers especially, but even normal people find fragments of thoughts and other things easily grasped in that time before we fall into what we call sleep and dreams. This really is just another door which allows our mind and a semblance of our bodies to enter, for a short time.

Writing is a gift a power, use it as you will, but there are consequences. Writing can change the way we think, it can change what a person values. Stories can change a generation, and they change the world.

What would it be like to be a butterfly?

To journey on delicate dust powdered wings

To live a short life, that is long for all you know

To never have knowledge passed down

From the generation that came before

To live amongst flowers, the bright colour

Then to be destroyed by time and wind

To lie dying by the rough road

Then to be gone, utterly and forever

But to fulfill the purpose of living

To be a glimpse of the wonder of your creator

To be a butterfly?

No it does not rhyme.... and it is, in my point of view not really a poem.... it is a collection of thoughts.... it is what I call a pondering, a wondering, what happens when thoughts fly, on dust powdered wings. (and i'll also say I have no wish to be a buttery, this is just thoughts about them) 

Last night we listened to another of the Botkin sisters talks called "Good Girls and Problem Guys". We enjoyed it and had a lot of fun discussing things afterwards. There were a few situations mentioned that we had to think of responses for.... we thought of some most hilarious ones... and almost died laughing. 

Two of the questions were; 

What would you say if a guy came up to you and looked deeply into your eyes and said "You are very beautiful, are you looking for a boyfriend?"

What would you do if some random guy walks up and he says "Can I have your phone number?" 

Well last things first.... wait that's the wrong way around... never mind, anyway here are some of the answers.... funny and not all necessarily what we would say...(probably not most of them and there could possibly be better things to say) but answers none the less.

"Can I have your phone number?" 

"No"

"Well maybe you could, except for one problem. I don't have a phone."

"No, I have absolutely no idea what my number is..... only my dad knows... I could give him yours."

"I don't give away my phone number" (it's mine)

"What good is my phone number anyway my phone is almost always turned off."

"Do you hear that beeping... that is my creep detector." (searching for creepy creeps near you)

"Why would I give you my number?"

Now first things last... wait if it is last does that stop it being first... but it still is first, but then also last and there are two so how can it be that one is first and last, which would also make the other last and first?...Well anyway now for the answers for the first question.

"You are very beautiful, are you looking for a boyfriend?"

"Are you a love expert?" (said by Jane in her Olaf voice)

"Actually I am.... He was just here a few minutes ago, he's really tall and rather jealous, could you help me find him?"

"Are so you are the love expert!" (then he answers something like "Yes/indeed") "ah so you are part of Sven's family then! Can you turn yourself into a rock?"

"Yes I left him here the other day, have you seen him?"

"No. Ah not again! That is my creep detector going off."

(stare back at him) "If I recall correctly I did not give you permission to look at me did I?"

"Ummm..." (awkward silence) "I suppose I shall be able to put this on an awkward post anyway" (continued awkward silence) "On my blog" 

(Then I thought that I could do this blog post and came up with another idea) "You know you really should check out my blog, I did a post all about guys like you."

"Oh really! I have been wanting a random guy to come and say that to me." (You have?) "Yes I did a whole blog post on things I could then say to him and I really wanted to see his reaction, now can you ask that again?" (insert the answer about love experts here, then daddy decides the guy is probably running or backing away and then just to completely scare him off, chase after him and say) "Wait where are you going, did I say something wrong?" 

We had a lot of laughs! We probably had other things we thought of too, but I can no longer remember them. On a more serious note, having answers to such questions is important. The first thing a girl is likely to do if they get asked such things, is freeze up and have no idea what to say.

This is just some random thoughts that I had the other day. An argument between my brothers started it. What they said made me remember that the same argument between my sisters and I and other friends and other siblings. I believe that this could often happen between young people, the argument ended as such;

"Well you are not my friend then, you can never be my friend again. I won't ever play with you anymore."

I vaguely remember being threatened with this and no doubt I said similar things too. I also know that this promise (it if can be called such) is normally broken within minutes. As I started to write this down on a sheet of paper my brothers were already saying "Lets play ants and be Meat Ants together." They were friends again. 

I think that it is strange... interesting that we should threaten each other with the ending of a friendship. Even if it is an empty threat, but of course the child may believe it at the time. Friendship must be something important to us, or we deem it important to another, possibly because it is important to us.

Friends are important to me. Friends are people I can trust and people I will probably stay in contact with for a long time. Even friends who are now far away are very important to me, they are part of my life. Friends share in life's struggles together and help each other through tough times, even if it is only by being there. So now I just want to say thank you to all my friends, whether I know you well or not. You are important to me.

I picked up a pile of pretty books at the local book fair. They were just so pretty and any books that weren't bought were going in a big bin.... I just couldn't let that happen. So now the books are sitting in a pile in my room as decoration. As you can see I have already given them one trip outside. I have no idea if any of the stories are any good except for "What Katy Did" and "Lorna Doon" which I have read. Of all the other books I don't think there are any I have heard of before. But they are beautiful books.