Monthly Archives: October 2012

The Kitten

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This was Fletcher’s first lesson and he wrote a wonderful story. Fletcher is still in primary school. What a talent!

 

The kitten

One day a little chimpanzee was having a fine old time swinging from branch to branch with his older brother in a huge tree until he missed and fell all the way to the ground. Luckily there was a nice soft pad of light green sweet smother grass that he fell on. He woke up fine but the tree had completely disappeared along with his family. He was about to bawl when he heard a soft, quiet ‘meow” behind the only plant within miles, a silver leafed Polygala fruticosa bush. He could see tiny fluffy ears behind the bloom covered shrub. Slowly a tiny paw came out and then a body and finally an ultra cute face.

“Meow,” the strange creature repeated.

The chimpanzee was as scared as the kitten but then the kitten pounced …. at a huge long-legged secretarybird swooping the little ape! The kitten whizzed past his head and caught the bird which flew off squawking angrily.

Suddenly the chimpanzee heard someone shout “Miss Marple!” and he grabbed the kitten and clung on.

The kitten started purring in a repetitive low rumble which made its bony little body vibrate comfortingly. He prepared for a hostile hunter. Instead an enormously tall man strode over the hill, saw the chimpanzee but was neither surprised nor armed.

“Miss Marple, come here”, he called again.

The cat struggled out of the chimpanzee’s grip and bounded excitedly up to the strange man. The cat started meowing as if it were talking. The man turned back to the chimpanzee and blurted out,

“Fine, follow me”.

So the confused little ape followed the strange man until they arrived at a huge tin house with all sorts of animals surrounding it like it was a king.

“Whose this Dr Dolittle?” asked a tired fat lion sitting in front of the door.

 

Fletcher

The old letters in the vault

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I’ve really enjoyed working with my family history students this year. When they first came to Picture This some were a bit resistant to the idea that they had to learn to write.

One of my students who stepped up to the challenge also protested that she couldn’t write; but she could and she did and now we’re waiting for her book to come back from the printer.

It’s starting to be my favourite tradition at this time of the year.

This time, last year, we were waiting for Clark’s Running from Poachers.

This year Margaret’s Across the Atlantic Roar tells the story of her journey following her ancestors through London, Lancashire and Scotland.

This is a tiny peek at page 44:

Two centuries before Henry died, three thousand plague victims were buried under this small paved square.
Three decades before Henry Haig, artist, was carried from the square, Charles Dickens, walked the streets of this ancient city looking for settings for his popular stories and took rooms there.
Over two years, from 1838 to 1839, he wrote The Life and Adventures of Nicholas Nickleby. Uncle Ralph, Nicholas’s vile guardian, lived his fictitious life in the square, gazing out the window of number 17. The traveller moved on watched by the ghosts of the past.

Her book will be a 64-page hard cover beauty. Her family is always going to treasure this book about their ancestors and their mother’s journey following a trail which began when a collection of old letters came out of a family vault.