Life on the Prairie

Once Upon the Prairie

 

Life on the Prairie

 
Rylie

 Rylie is a ten-year-old writer.

She uses her stories to make her brother’s life brighter.

Her brother, George, has gone to fight in the Great War.

Rylie prays daily the war will be no more.

Her family and she know George is not a fighter.

 

Family, friends and neighbors dread the knock at the door.

It could mean the family’s soldier is injured or more.

George does safely return at war’s end

Giving Rylie, her family and the world time to mend.

Everyone must try to understand the pain the soldiers bore.

 

 

Rylie: the Imaginative Girl took first place at the Heart of America Christian Writer’s Conference 2014 Writing Contest in the children’s story division.

 

Please note this blog posts the first and third weeks of the month.

 

 

 

 

 

Prairie Girls

Rylie

I am Rylie, and today was a sad day for my family. My big brother, George, joined the army without telling Mother and Father. We put him on a train to go to a camp so he can learn to be a soldier. Then he will sail on a ship to fight in some place called Europe.

I write stories about our dog, Molly, and her friend, Sammy the squirrel. George likes to read my stories so I promised to send them to him. While he is gone, I will pray and write letters to him every day. Next time, I will tell you more about my story.

A Lesson Learned

                                              By Judy

My grandfather was about the age of the fictional Rylie’s brother during WWI. However, he did not join the army. Grandpa and Grandma were already married by the time WWI started, and he probably did not consider joining the Army. He was the only child of parents who were early settlers in Kansas. He never lived anywhere except on the farm where he was born. I have a blurry memory of Grandpa and my grandmother telling me about the boys in the trenches during the first war and how they prayed for their safe return.

In 1969 Grandpa and I were flying home from Hawaii. He was over 80, and I was in my early twenties. There was a young soldier, probably not yet 20, on the plane. He was flying home to Indiana after serving a year in Viet Nam. Thanking a soldier for serving in Viet Nam was not a popular thing to do at the time, but Grandpa did that day. I learned a lot from my Grandpa.

 

 

Causes of WW1

Causes of “The Great War”

(World War 1)

                                       By Collette

Prior to WWI the world was rapidly expanding its military might, thus adding to each country’s strong sense of nationalism. With more weapons stock-piled countries chose to extend their influence into other less developed nations by the use of force. A strong sense of imperialism was felt by the countries as they expanded. To protect themselves and their newly acquired territories, secret alliances were formed among these aggressors. If anyone attacked a member of an alliance, the others who signed treaties with them would protect them militarily. England, France, Austro-Hungry, Germany, Russia and even the United States desired expansion for their countries. The world became a powder keg set to blow.

The following sites may be useful for more research:

www.pbs.org/greatwar/resources/lesson1.html
www.mapsofworld.com/world-war-i/causes.html
www.enwikipedia.org/wiki/Causes_of_World_War_I
www.historyonthenet.com/WW1/causes.htm

 

 

 

Recipes from the early 1900's

Recipes from the Early 1900’s

                                                  By Collette

The following includes recipes my grandmother gave to my mother, and she passed on to me.

“Never Fail” Dumplings

1 pint flour                                                           milk
1 salt spoon of salt                                               1 heaping teaspoon cold butter
1 heaping teaspoon baking powder

Sift dry ingredients. Then rub in cold butter and enough milk to make a soft dough. Roll into balls and steam or drop into kettle with meat. Cover tightly-do not lift for 10 minutes.

Egg Noodles

2 eggs                                                         1 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoon cream                                    flour

Beat 2 eggs very light; add salt and cream. Add flour enough to make it thick. Roll as thin as possible. Let dry an hour; then cut very fine. (Cream may be omitted.)

Beef Sandwiches

Chop roast beef very fine; sprinkle with salt and pepper, a little horseradish and onion chopped fine. Mix and spread between two slices of buttered bread.

To Be, or Not to Be, a Writer?

To Be, or Not to Be, a Writer?

                                                     By Collette

During my schooling, I enjoyed my English classes and usually did well. I was fortunate to have excellent teachers in this field. Most were very encouraging and pushed me to want to do better, except for one. Please keep in mind “writing” in those days was judged by mechanics, not what you had to say. She was a stickler for grammar, punctuation, capitalization, usage and the conventions of writing. Did I mention I got 100’s on my spelling tests, but was a lousy speller?

One misspelled word was an automatic “C.” Graded themes had no comment about what I had to say. One time she wrote “I had an interesting way of writing.” I read comments she put on other student’s papers and their higher grades helped determine my belief that I could not “write.” This was reinforced in college as well.

Hired to teach English in several schools (I had a minor in English and was certified to teach 6-9^th grades), I did what my teachers had done to me. In the middle of all my teaching I was “writing” lesson plans, curriculum, school improvement plans and mentoring schools not meeting the state’s standards. My “writing” was even published. I woke up to the surprise I was a “writer.” It is amazing what one can do when she develops a little confidence.

I learned some valuable lessons from the teacher who made me feel I could not “write.” Whenever possible I went to “writing” conferences. I read book after book about how to “write” and how to teach “writing.” My district instituted the instruction of the Six Traits of Writing into our classrooms. I took training and worked with state assessments involving “writing.” I provided instruction about the different types of “writing” available today. Also, I “wrote” with the students each day.

Perhaps the greatest lesson I learned from that teacher was to find other ways to determine the value and importance of what a student had to say in “writing.” In fact, I have taken the quotes away from writing because I know I am a writer who helps others find their voice and express themselves.

 

Are Those New Pants?

Are Those New Pants?
                       By Judy

It was a long, very, very long time, but I walked on the treadmill for a full forty-five minutes. Some mornings I quit after only thirty minutes. Those days I have time to share conversation and drink a cup of coffee with my physically-fit gym friends. There was no time for chit-chat that morning, though. I grabbed a quick cup of coffee and headed to the locker room to change out of my black, well-worn, five-year-old sweat pants and tee-shirt into my good dress pants and a sweater. I didn’t want to be late for work.

I had carefully packed my gym bag the night before. Packing the evening before allowed me five extra minutes of sleep. I needed rest for the long day. After work I planned to attend a program at our local library. There would not be an opportunity to drive the five miles home and back between work and going to the library. I wanted to attend a special service at church after the library presentation, too. I hoped I got home before 8:00 P.M.

I had put one of my warmest sweaters in my gym bag. The temperature was not to be above twenty degrees that day. Just to be safe, I packed a couple of extra shirts to wear under my sweater and some leggings to wear under my slacks. My heaviest wool socks and high top boots had been the first items in my gym bag. After I packed the bag, I arranged my gym clothes in a stack so I could dress quickly the following morning. Arriving at the gym before 7:00 in the morning doesn’t happen naturally for me. Effort, above and beyond, is required.

I went to bed confident I was prepared for the next day. After I read a couple of chapters of a light-hearted novel with a main character who led a life not remotely similar to mine in any manner, I fell asleep. I dreamed I, like the main character in the novel I was reading, was enjoying a warm, sunny afternoon at the beach. In my dream, George Clooney and I were discussing Dish Satellite vs. Direct TV. (I have no idea how we got on that topic.)  Certainly, though, my last thoughts that night were not of the clothing I packed for the next day.

The next morning, still slightly weak from my journey on the treadmill and before I inhaled a cup of black coffee, I opened my gym bag and placed my clothing on the bench in the locker room. Boots, socks, shirts, sweater, leggings, slacks…wait…slacks…where were my slacks? The nice gray ones that matched my warm gray sweater? The ones I washed the night before and hung in the laundry room to dry? Laundry room?  Laundry room…yes, that’s where they were.

I checked my watch. There was not enough time to drive home and back without being late to work. I called my husband, “Sorry, dear, I’m already at the office. No, I have an early appointment. There’s no way…,” he replied to my begging voice.

I tried to slip in the back door of the office. I hoped to get to my desk unnoticed.

“Are those new slacks?” one of my co-workers asked. “I like the faded black look. They kind of look the color of sweat pants after they’ve been washed weekly for five years.”

“Are those new slacks?” a friend at the library event asked. “They seem pretty baggy. They kind of have the form sweat pants take on after they’ve been washed weekly for five years.”

“Are those new slacks?” my daughter asked after evening church services. “Didn’t you used to have some sweat pants that sort of looked like them?”

“Gosh, it’s been a long day, and I know you left the house before daylight this morning. How about we go out for dinner?” my husband asked after church services.

“Sure, why not?” I answered.

“Are those new slacks?” my husband asked.

My steak was good, very, very good.