Grey Gardens shrine - Grey Gardens Questions

Question #1:

An exerpt from my novel, what do you think?

I'm 13 and this is my first attempt at writing a book. I would like others opinion, but don't be cruel intentionally.
Thanks

I sat on the roof, letting the wind sting my eyes, staring at the never ending twilight. I let my eyes follow the few brave enough to walk among the vampires. We as guardians were not allowed to cause affliction to the new species invading, but I was faithful to my people. I would not let the vampires do as they wished to my home.
I looked to the east, watching a group of vampires walk towards the gardens. I quickly stood and followed them, jumping from one roof top to another, being quick yet discreet. It was morning, but you could not have guessed that with our epoch. It was always dusk here, which made it ideal for the vampires. Enough light to observe those who were out, but not enough to harm the pests invading. The group walked into a large tent. I stood and watched as they disappeared behind the dark fabric that hid their secret quarters. The fire danced inside, casting shadows about. I squinted, observing a few leaned over the fire inside. They seemed to be whispering quietly to one another. I inhaled deep, breathing in the cold crisp air.
“Enna.” A voice behind me breathed. I turned, facing a figure in dark clothing.
“What do you want?” I stammered, watching it closely. It exhaled, it’s breath visible against the cool dark night. It stepped into my path, blocking the way before me, moving like a man that was perfectly sure of his footing
“Why do you think so cruelly towards my people?” It asked accusingly, circling around me.
“You have not given me much option.” I replied in a small whisper. It breathed, stopping to lift it’s hood. Demitri’s cold grey eyes met mine. He smiled viciously, his mouth dripping with blood.
“That is true.” He hissed. My mouth dropped slightly with horror, who or what had he fed off of?
“Oh, don’t worry.” He began, “The old man you call your father has no use to your people.” He smiled, licking the blood from his lips. My eyes widened.
“Enna, Don’t be frightened.” He whispered, stepping closer to me. His eyes danced with amusement.
“What makes you think I am?” I asked, stepping back towards the roofs edge.
“Your hearts rhythm has increased excessively.” He replied. I stared at him. His people are known to deceive. I could not trust anything he told me.
“Trust me.” He ordered smoothly with a sly, clever smile. I stared into his piercing grey eyes, my feet swaying, my lips quivering. To trust him never crossed my mind. I immediately wanted to run, but I couldn’t take my eyes from his. He gently swept my hair back with his hand, his fingertips tracing the nape of my neck. The shock of his warmth in this cursedly cold place sent goose bumps coursing down my spine. I stepped back abruptly.
I agree, I disapprove of the way Twilight makes the vampires out to be.
Sparkling in the sun? -_- NO.
I am trying to make my vampires the way they were originally created.
&; Twilight did inspire me.
It inspired me to write about Vampires the way they were meant to be written about.

Question #2:

Is this poem a sonnet.?

The night is only a sort of carbon paper,
Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of stars
Letting in the light, peephole after peephole ---
A bonewhite light, like death, behind all things.
Under the eyes of the stars and the moon's rictus
He suffers his desert pillow, sleeplessness
Stretching its fine, irritating sand in all directions.

Over and over the old, granular movie
Exposes embarrassments--the mizzling days
Of childhood and adolescence, sticky with dreams,
Parental faces on tall stalks, alternately stern and tearful,
A garden of buggy rose that made him cry.
His forehead is bumpy as a sack of rocks.
Memories jostle each other for face-room like obsolete film stars.

He is immune to pills: red, purple, blue ---
How they lit the tedium of the protracted evening!
Those sugary planets whose influence won for him
A life baptized in no-life for a while,
And the sweet, drugged waking of a forgetful baby.
Now the pills are worn-out and silly, like classical gods.
Their poppy-sleepy colors do him no good.

His head is a little interior of grey mirrors.
Each gesture flees immediately down an alley
Of diminishing perspectives, and its significance
Drains like water out the hole at the far end.
He lives without privacy in a lidless room,
The bald slots of his eyes stiffened wide-open
On the incessant heat-lightning flicker of situations.

Nightlong, in the granite yard, invisible cats
Have been howling like women, or damaged instruments.
Already he can feel daylight, his white disease,
Creeping up with her hatful of trivial repetitions.
The city is a map of cheerful twitters now,
And everywhere people, eyes mica-silver and blank,
Are riding to work in rows, as if recently brainwashed.

And is it lyrical? Or narrative?
Basically, what I'm trying to understand is the "form" of the poem....
Can someone please help?

Question #3:

Do cats make friends with other cats?

I have an 8 year old cat who i have had since a kitten, she has always been on her own and is usually very territorial if other cats come into the garden.

I have just looked out the kitchen into the garden and have seen her laid quite happily on the grass with a big grey cat i have never seen before laid next to her.
They seem to be quite comfortable with each other?

I just wondered if this was normal for cats to make friends with other cats? Thanks in advance

Question #4:

Please read and give your opinions/criticism?

I had just under 7 minutes to brush my teeth, pick a remotely acceptable outfit, slap on my makeup, grab my bag and hot foot it to the bus stop if I wanted to be on time for the first day of college. A quick peek behind the curtains and I saw that the sky was grey, which meant searching for a coat and umbrella. There was no way I’d make it on time for my first class but at least now I could see just how effective all of those “ Picture perfect makeup in under 3 minutes!” tips that the magazines were always full of were.
As I ran down the stairs, the smell of warm toast and freshly brewed coffee hit me. “Honey, you’re leaving already?” asked my Mum. I was already running late and in no mood to exchange pleasantries over breakfast with her.
‘I’m running late Ma, have a good day, alright?’, I shouted over my shoulder as I ran out of the front garden. I couldn’t help myself, I had look over my shoulder just once. She looked small standing in the large doorway with a crestfallen expression on her face. This had become our routine over the years. I’m running late, she’s waiting with a freshly cooked breakfast, I turn it down and leave her standing at the door, watching me leave. Not for the first time I found myself wondering how she spent her day. The phone and the television seemed to be her closest friends these days. As I dodged through traffic on autopilot I thought of much things had changed. It had always been me and some acne ridden babysitter almost every night watching my parents leave home, her mouth a perfect glossy shade of red, whispering something in his ear. He’d throw his head back and laugh, his eyes crinkling with laughter. It was the only clear memory I had of my father and the image of the two of them clutching each other and walking to their taxi, like the epitome of the beautiful suburban couple was ingrained in my memory.
A quick glance at my phone as I got on the bus told me that it wasn’t even 9am yet, therefore far too early to be getting sentimental and weepy on public transport. As more and more people began to file on and search for a seat, I plugged in my headphones and got as comfortable as I could. This had become my twice daily bus routine. Avoid contact with anyone and music on. Loud. Having to suffer public transport every morning was one thing, but having to go through the ordeal with no music to drown out the sound of people who had yet to fully wakeup would have sent me over the edge.

I dont have a *clear* plot line.

Question #5:

Has anyone else received this strange story in their email inbox? What does it mean?

I got this story sent me to my email. It's very odd and disconcerting. Has anyone else received it? Apparently its called the 'Table'. What is the message meant to be in it?

We came home from school and mum was sat in her usual spot at the kitchen table. I say ‘kitchen’, but ours was one of those fancy open plan living rooms which included a dining area. The table was near the back windows and, unlike anywhere else in the living room, the ceiling was in a beautiful arch right over the table, like something out of the olden days. The windows were those type that take up the whole wall and you can see out into the garden. Also quite posh I always thought. I loved that spot of our house. Every day when we came back from school, mum was always sitting there in the same spot at the head of the table. The table itself was always covered in fun and sunlight (from it being near the windows). There was always sweets or fruit to be found on it, a torch which had been there for years and only had one battery in it, an open, unfinished board game, coins from all over the world, a colouring book and a few broken crayons, really tightly rolled dollar bills which I loved to unroll and then try and roll it back up even tighter than before. I could go on but I don’t have the time. The point is, it was like a mini treasure chest and I loved it. I also loved the way me, my mum and my sister would sit round it and have conversations about anything and everything. We were always laughing and joking. I loved that spot of our house.
One day we came home from school and brought a friend with us. We put our bikes in the shed and came in through the back door. My mum was sitting there as usual. I introduced my friend to my mum and we sat at the table. I started pushing the pieces around the still unfinished board game with one of the broken crayons. I loved this spot. I felt so relaxed. I asked my friend if she would like to colour in or look at the coins or have an apple or anything, but she declined. She didn’t look as relaxed as me. I always felt nervous when I was in people’s homes too though.
After a few hours my friend asked to use the toilet. “Follow me,” I said. “I think it’s up the first flight of stairs to the right.” We walked up the stairs, stepping over the duvet which me and my sister had used to slide down the stairs with like a sled some years ago. At the top of the stairs, sure enough just to the right was the toilet door. My friend avoided stepping on any of the bathmats or toothbrushes on her way to the toilet. I waited outside for her. When she had finished we walked across the landing towards the second flight of stairs, which led to the loft. On the way we passed my little brother’s room. I popped my head round to check he was still there. He was. And looked as peaceful as ever. I loved my little brother. We walked up the second flight of stairs into the loft. It was packed with wardrobes with clothes spilling out up there, and posters of famous singers. There was so much stuff it felt like weak fingers trying to grab hold of you everywhere you walked. “And this is the loft” I said to my friend. “As you can see there are lots of posters. This one here for example is of INXS. I love INXS. Have you heard of them?”. “No” my friend replied. How could she not know who INXS were, I thought.
We went back downstairs, again being careful not to slip on the duvet that was still in the middle of the first flight of stairs. At the bottom of the stairs to the right was the door that led to the table and the backdoor (the one we always used), and to the right was the porch door, which led to the front door (which we never used). The space between the porch door and the front door was like a little dark box shaped room where we used to hang our coats. The porch door had windows so from the inside you could see into it and see the front door. “Mum” I shouted, “I’m going to check on the parrots and if the pig has had its babies yet.” “Come and have a look if there’s any baby pigs” I said to my friend. We walked over to the door and pressed our faces against the glass. The parrots, all 3 of them, were on their perch right in front of the window in the door. They looked awfully strange. They were shaking and twitching and it seemed as though the top part of their beak had rotted away and was covered by a grey, fluffy looking mould. One of the parrots had lost nearly all it’s feathers and was swinging around the perch. The parrot closest to the window looked at me with it’s droopy eyes. I looked back. Parrots are funny old birds. I averted my eyes from the parrots and looked at the floor where the pig was still lying. The pig had on loose jeans and a red hooded jumper. Although his jeans were baggy I could see a massive bulgy, bumpy bit near the crotch area and just about make out the shapes of some baby pigs. They weren’t moving though inside his jeans. That said, he wasn’t moving either. “Come on” I said, and me and m

Question #6:

Please help with this story I wrote! Can anyone help me put more emotion into the narrator?

Father Unforgotten
I was 12 years old when my father disappeared and never returned. The house, once my father’s pride and joy, crumbled and creaked, as dust settled thickly on the bookcases and cabinets. My mother, wild with grief, grew unpredictable and distempered. My father, who had always loved me, would have cared for me until the end of the world, but my mother, who knew nothing about children, neglected me. I became thin, tired and tortured by my mother’s misery. I was confined to my room – the rest of the house was exhausted by my mother’s grieving – and I was only allowed out of the house to buy milk and bread.
The once beautiful garden was now overgrown, and all traces of the sweetpeas and pansies that had grown there before had now been overtaken by nettles and dandelions. The walls that had surrounded the gardens had long since crumbled away, leaving a nest of rocks and bindweed. The paths, that had once twisted and wound through the gardens, were homes to ants and beetles, who found the gravelled mud a perfect protection for their families.
The ancient, studded door that had once towered over me, standing proud and tall, was cracked and rotten. Once polished banisters were now worn from the passage of many hands that had passed across its smooth surface and sprinkled with dust. The kitchen was disused; the ashes from the fire years ago spread across the hearth. Pots and pans hung still and rusty, the blackened undersides of them mingled with an iron red. The whole house was neglected; draughts blew through the empty rooms day and night through the cracks in the windows and doors.

It was a bleak day. I looked out of the window; the chill of the morning seemed to lie upon my very soul. I gazed around the colourful walls of my room, decorated by my father and myself. Birds, horses and flowers floated round the outer limits of my room, whispering their sympathy into my ears. I sighed. The paintings were fading, like my memories of my father. Perching on the edge of my desk, my lips formed the last words I remember spoken to me by my father. ‘There’s a reason for everything. Don’t let yourself go.’ A solitary tear dropped onto my dry lips. My tongue brushed it away, leaving the skin wet behind it. I blinked to rid my eyes of the moisture threatening to overflow; this was no time for grieving.
*
The light reflected small particles of dust that dispersed into the air as my bare feet stepped over them. The floor creaked where I stood, as if awaiting my next move. The grimed window panes rattled as I reached forward and took hold of the wooden banisters. I made my way slowly downstairs, stepping carefully over gaps in the rotting woodwork. The petticoats of my dress rustled against my legs with each step. The cold, wooden floors made my feet freeze, numbing my toes of pain. My hair slipped forwards and into my face, strands hooking themselves round my nose and mouth. My bare forearms were streaked with filth, and my hands with dust as I slid my palms down the banisters.
I stepped onto the floor below. I could hear the floor groaning as it held my weight. The draught slammed the door shut, muffling the grieving sobs of my mother. I tiptoed silently to the door, praying that my mother would not become aggravated. I pushed the door open a crack. On Father’s old chair, dusty and rotten, sat his cushion; a velvet, deep red cushion that held all of Father’s magic and secrets. Although it was old and tired, it still glowed with the magic of my father’s presence. Opposite, my mother sat, crying into a lace silk handkerchief. Tears rolled down her cheeks and onto the rug below. Her feet were also bare, settled onto the worn rug. Swallowing my nervousness, I stepped into view. My mother looked up, startled, a look of hope etched onto her worn out face. Her hope vanished as she realised it was me.
“Mother?” I whispered. She looked up again, tears still creeping from her eyes. Mother stared at me, her eyes widening.
“Where has Father gone?”
“My child,” she whispered. “He has gone away with the fairies, my child.” Her voice cracked and renewed tears ran down her face.

He has gone away with the fairies.
*
I stood in the garden, watching the grey clouds draw closer and closer to our crumbling abode. I faced the sky as the first few drops of rain pattered down onto my face. I took one step towards the garden gate. Spots of rain darkened my path towards the street. Birds flew around the garden, their wings spread as I watched their shadows pass over the house. The breeze lifted the hem of my dress and my bare feet froze to the path. The distant sound of my mother, crying her sins to the world, moaning her grief to the wind touched my ears as the silence closed in on me. I walked over to the gateway that led to the streets. Grey buildings stretched endlessly into the gloom before me. Where would my father be? He could be anywhere. I walked fearfully across the dirt road, as if at any moment, someo
someone – or something – would jump out at me.
My feet made little noise as I made my way to the inn. Opening the door, I looked into the dim room. Tables and chairs stood still, gathering dust that dispersed rapidly as I padded softly over to them. He was not here. Turning back towards the door, shoulders slumped, I left.
What felt like hours passed. I stumbled around, calling, crying, begging for my father to return. I sat upon a stone step, looking at the dry mud soaking up the rain like cotton cloth drawn under water by the dolly stick. I got to my feet and turned to go home. I traced my footsteps back to the garden, where I paused. Looking back, sighing, I pushed at the unsteady gate. Wandering up the path, I made my way towards the door. As I did so, I spotted a flower; one tiny white snowdrop, resting in a haze of green. My heart thumping, I realised home was the place where my father would be. I was sure of it.
Racing through the house, my mind searched for the place where
where Father would be hidden. Then I found it: Father’s study. I slowed to a walk. Just outside the mahogany door, I paused. Then I pushed the door gently. It slid silently open to reveal father’s study. His desk, nestled comfortably in the fibres of the red carpet, shone, giving off an ethereal glow, as if the light from other worlds was upon it. My eyes searched the room for my father. Then I espied it: one single piece of parchment, ink spots fading into the aged paper. Slowly, my hand shaking, I picked the letter up. My heart shuddering fearfully, I began to read.

My Dearest Child,
I am sorry to leave you so soon. Please look after you mother. Do not grieve for me. You will see me again one day. I promise. There’s a reason for everything. Even my death. Don’t let yourself go. It was surely not meant to be this way.
I am truly sorry for…
There was no ending. My mind was blank, like a mist had just descended on my thoughts. My father. Dead.
I turned around again, facing the door
. Still shaking, clutching the letter to my heart, I stepped out of the doorway. For the first time I noticed that the window at the end of the hallway was open. On the ledge lay a single snowdrop. Walking to the window, I picked up the flower. A sudden movement from behind me made me turn round. My hand tight around the delicate stem of the plant, I looked up. My mother stood in the doorway.
“From the fairies, my child.” She said.

And then we both smiled.

The End

Question #7:

Easy for some, fun Science Homework. Periodic Table?

Okay so I have to find the periodic element within the sentences. Example: The hydro generator at Adolphustown is in need of repair. That would be hydrogen. please help.

Here they are:

When making muffins you must stir only until the dry ingredients are lightly moistened.

Please open the door and let the poor cat in.

We are all delighted that Nick elected to come on the trip too.

The mortician showed us necrotized tissue, scar, bone fractures, and other injuries with great delight.

The healing herbs in her garden include liverwort, thyme, basil, verbena, valerian, bee balm, and sage.

The hospital could require extra staff if there were an outbreak of the flu or in emergencies such as a fire or flood.

When dealing with sensitive young children, gentle admonitions are often more appropriate when going ballistic.

The jury found that horrible man insane on the strength of the evidence from three witnesses.

The norse God rose up and said' I, Odin end this feast with a toast to my lovely wife, Freyda.

The children's favorite horse is the big old grey mare who has very sweet temper.

You could have corn on the cob. Alternatively you could have it creamed.

Question #8:

HELP WITH ROOM IDEAS?!?! PLEASE?

im going for a nice vintage room. i NEED a wall color that will look cozy in the winter and bright in the summer. im going for like the vintagey modern type of deal. i need some ideas (please add pictures) and for the summer vintagey modern and beachy. try and look for like lauren conrad, her type of style. i really need to focus on the wall color and what type of color furiture (black, silver, or white) and cool modern furiture. what about a tangerine wall? or plum wall, or a light sky blue? give your opinions and ideas. this is extremely appreicated!

Click Here

this futon ^

Click Here

this duvet in grey ^

Click Here

or this duvet in purple ^

Question #9:

HELP ME PLEASE ?? I dont know which breed to choose?

hi ,

i am wanting to now either get a cavarlier king charles spaniel or an italian grey hound but i dont no which one so i hope you can help me choose please..,

we live in a medium size house ,
big back garden,
10 minutes from a big park for dogs ,
3 children 12 +,
and two adults ,
we also have a bunny and hermit crab but we might have to give the bunny away we dont know yet ?
and last of all they both can be looked after well whatever breed we get ( i.e ) the c.k.c.s needs to be groomed every day and taken to the parlour every 6 weeks.

Question #10:

baby pigeon (what do i do?)?

I was putting my hens away today in there large aviary which is probably about 18ft long by 6ft, when I noticed a small baby pigeon. It couldnt fly as it was young. It had the down on it (slight yellow) but mainly grey ruffly feathers. I know it was a baby.
I have cats and fox's visit our garden every night and morning. So i decided to lock it up with the chickens. The avary is has a wire round it so the aniamls can see out.

What do I do? Will it survive the night on its own?
I did try to ring the RSPB but they were closed.
I wont be able to get it until tomorrow now as im at another house.

Should I hand rear it although i dont want to ruin its chances.

Thanks

this is what it looks like, but a little more grey:

Click Here

Question #11:

Baby Wood pigeon in garden?

Question #12:

what do you think of the first little part of my book?

hello
i'm 14 and i have never tried written a book before and am just starting off. So please don't be too harsh but please give your opinions and how can i improve?
this obviously isn't the end of my book if anything it is just the first two pages not even a chapter.
thanks

Chapter 1
It’s funny how a mirror reflects you, isn’t it. It doesn’t show the real you, it shows you the you that you want everyone else to see, an act. But sometimes you need that act. The cover. Otherwise how would I hide my secret?
You see, I’m a Shifter. I shift into a werewolf. I’m Faith Marie Lupa, My family was chosen to be wolves, it goes back to hundreds of years ago, when your great, great, great, great, great Granddad or Grandma hits puberty (I know, ewww grandma getting boobs) they start to feel that they don’t belong with all their friends, could be people they have known since they were little tots running around. They have an urge to be outside, and usually on your 16th birthday when you are sitting outside an wolf will come up to you. Well, when you see them you are able to hear their thoughts, they tell you to imagine yourself as a wolf, then you start to tingle all over, when you open your eyes everything looks different, as a wolf everything is black and white and you look down and see these huge paws where your hands were, and you have this thick furry pelt. My dad, Lovell which means wolf, is huge in human form, 6ft 6, broad shouldered and had strong features, he has warm brown eyes, nice eyes, he has soft wavy hair, light brown, when he is in his brother wolf form he is huge, he is the alpha, his fur is weird, his hair is brown in human form but in his wolf form it is grey, with a flush of white from his neck to the base of his tail. My mum, Talia, is quite different, she is 5ft and had a petit face and bone structure, she had blue eyes, very dark brown hair, basically black, and it’s cut into a short pixie cut, when she is wolf form she has the same colour fur as her hair, she is a stunning wolf as stunning as she is in her other form, sleek but not bony.
I’m a little ‘cutie’ apparently; in human form I have long light blond hair, so light that it looks white. It’s down to my belly button; I have a petit face, like my Mum. I have a stormy blue eye and a warm brown eye; I have one of my mum’s eyes and one of my dad’s. When I’m a wolf I am as blond as I am in my human form with a brown flick on my muzzle with a black tail as well, I am small when I’m a wolf, as small as I am when I’m a human, I am only 4ft 6, nearly all the girls in my year (I’m 14, so I’m in year 10) are nearly a foot taller than me. Did you know that when a werewolf, in its wolf form, stands up it measures up to the height it is in human form, I’m the smallest in my family. I can’t pass as a real wolf so I have to be especially careful when i hunt, my mum and dad can pass as wolves but me, I have to hunt in the shadows. Still, I’m a better hunter then both of them, I can tread quieter and I am more patient. I have a better ear than them, I can hear where the prey is but not just that I can tell what it is. I can smell the prey from 200 meters off, believe me that’s impressive. I’m one of a kind, supposedly.

i was hunting and thinking about my first ever change, remembering that not only can i not be a normal teen but i can even be a normal were-wolf.
I hit my ‘were’ stage faster than any other were we have met. Most turn for their first time when they turn 16, But I turned for the first time on my 14th birthday. Imagine my surprise when I went to get into bed and looked out my window, wishing that I could go and run in to the woods at the end of my garden, when I started to tingle, looking down, seeing hair pop out of my skin and start making its way up my body. Hearing a scream and then my parents rushed in. They looked so surprised that it would have made me laugh, if I had been able to. I was fully wolf at that stage and I could see my parent’s lips moving but couldn’t hear a thing over the growls ripping out of my chest. My dad ran out of the room, all I could think was “great my dad’s gone to call, animal control, he probably thinks that a wolf has eaten his daughter!” my growls died down to whimpers to the thought that I would never turn back to normal, I would be stuck as this beast forever. I feel my mum’s arms around me and started think “wait, if she thought I was a savage wolf who just killed her daughter, would she hug me?” so I realised that she knew that this was going to happen. So many thoughts started running through my brain that when another voice joined in I didn’t even notice, then this voice booms so loudly that it’s like a mental slap. I stopped withering in self pity and looked up. There sitting in front of me was a huge storm cloud grey wolf, a rusty copper coloured wolf and a black wolf sitting in front of me, the grey wolf in front and the others sitting to his left and right in a v-shape. I later
thanks i actually was trying to put the whole chapter up but it only did this much. sorry but i will put up all of it in a minute :D

Question #13:

Riddle about birds needs help?

The riddle is
my first is in SWAN but not in PEN,
my second's in PETREL but never in hen.
My third is in raven and also in CRAKE,
my fouth is in robin as well as in DRAKE.
My fifth is in ROOK and you'll find it in ERNE,
my sixth is in DOVE but it's not in TERN.
My seventh's in SWIFT and is seen in WREN.
My whole is a brown-grey bird in the garden.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _

any ideas

Question #14:

In fable 2, how do you unlock the gate next to fairfax gardens? I bought it, but it won't unlock help??!?

Okay, you know that gate next to fairfax gardens, not lady greys tomb. I mean the other one that there is a gate and further in there is a switch. How do you unlock it, I was looking on google, but nobody had an answer to it. Helpp? Thankss. 10 points for best answer(:
I mean, the gate next to fairfax castle,

Question #15:

what do you think of the start of my story?

this is the introduction to i story i have been writing. please tell me what you think and whether you would keep reading. any constructive criticism is welcome.

Beginning
We had just moved to Sydney and I remember feeling nervous. I was so nervous I had spent the whole time since moving chewing my nails into dust. I remember walking up to the school to enroll and my hands were shaking so much I had to put them in my pockets to stop them. My mum had said it wasn’t a big deal, and I was fine until I got there, but as I looked up at the posh school and the principal looked down at me like a starving bear looks at a cooked chicken in a cartoon I gulped just like the characters do in the cartoons. When my teeth wouldn’t stop chattering the principle Miss Rupert asked me if there was something wrong, I turned red and felt my cheeks grow hot.

I had come from Melbourne so it wasn’t like I was starting out in a new country, but it was a new city, with a new school with a new group of people. It wasn’t like I didn’t want to move, but I liked it where we used to live, On the outskirts of Melbourne in a small town called Willconston with all my old friends and my old public school with just under 400 kids. Mum said it was best to start afresh, so she enrolled my and my two younger sisters and brother in the best and most well known private school in Sydney. St David Catholic School in the middle of the city. Since when have we been religious anyway? We have never gone to church or said grace before our meals or anything like that. We used to go to church the night before Easter when I was little, but since the triplets came along everything got difficult.

I remember my old house. It was big but just one story, it had a verandah all the way around and we had two paddocks out the back. It was a red brick house, but dad had painted it cream when I was five. He said it was to go with the sandstone edges that were on each of the four corners of the house. And it did look better, but I always loved the red against the pale white and yellow of the sandstone. It had a grey corrugated iron roof and when it rained heavily it would make your ears ring but when it was light it was the best thing to lull you to sleep.

My room hadn’t been big but at least I didn’t have to share, my two sisters, Narnie and Leah used to share the biggest room. But it was so full of Narnie’s junk that it didn’t matter much. Leah’s side was neater, her bed was always made and her clothes were hung up but it was hard to tell because Narnie’s Junk floated around the place making it all look messy. I loved sitting on the back verandah with Goat. We had a pet goat called Goat. He was good, but we never had much in the way of flowers because of him, mum didn’t mind, she said she never had time to look after it before we got Goat, and after we got him the grass was always kept short. The grass in the garden was slightly greener that the yellowing grass of the paddocks beyond it but it was grey compared to the green in Sydney.

I was quite sad that we couldn’t take Goat with us but dad kept him in his new home two houses down from our old one, and promised to look after him and give him a treat of string beans or carrot every few days. Anyways who ever heard of a goat in the middle of Sydney? It wasn’t going to happen so I had to put up with it.

My new house is modern. It has an open plan area down stairs with a big kitchen and living room. Upstairs there are the bedrooms and a big study. We have three bathrooms. I tried to think of a situation where we would need that many, but I couldn’t. There is a pool outside and a deck, it has a barbeque built into a bench topped with a giant granite slab that runs the length of the whole bench. It’s not the same as our old house but it is new and there won’t be leaks in the roof out the back and they won’t be mice in the kitchen which is always good.

I like this house because my bedroom has a big window at one end and a walk in wardrobe next to it. There is enough room for a queen sized bed in my room, and none of the kids have to share bedrooms. The lounge room is a lot bigger than our old home but it isn’t the same as before. It will never be the same. This time dad isn’t with us. He’s back in Melbourne and because of that it will never feel exactly like it used to.

Question #16:

how do you feed a garden snake?

tx, grey garden snake.
someone told me it is a garden snake i have looked it up on the internet but i can't find it. btw it is only about 10 inches long.

Question #17:

LOL AT THIS LIST!!!!!!!!!!!?

!!As the cashier runs your purchase over the scanner, look mesmerized and say, "Wow, magic!"

Ask other customers if they have any Grey Poupon.

Attempt to fit others into very large gym bags.

Challenge other customers to duels with tubes of gift-wrap.

Contaminate the entire auto department by sampling all the spray air fresheners.

Dart around suspiciously while humming the theme from Mission Impossible.

Drag a lounge chair over to the magazines and relax.

Go to the food court, buy a drink, and ask if they can put a little umbrella in it.

Drape a blanket around your shoulders and run around saying, "I'm Batman. Come Robin, to the Batcave."

Follow people through the aisles, staying about 5 feet behind them. Do this until they leave the store.

Get 24 boxes of condoms and randomly put them in people's carts when they aren't looking.

Go into a fitting room, shut the door and wait a while and then yell loudly "There's no toilet paper in here!"

Go to the Service Desk and ask to put a bag of M&M's on lay away.

Hide in a clothing rack and when people browse through, say "PICK ME! PICK ME!"

Hold indoor shopping cart races.

In the auto department, practice your "Madonna look" using different size funnels.

Leave Cheerios in lawn and garden, pillows in the pet section, etc.

Look right into the security camera, use it as a mirror and pick your nose.

Make a trail of tomato juice on the floor leading to the restrooms.

Make up nonsense products and ask employees if there are any in stock. (i.e.: Shnerples)

Move "Caution: Wet Floor" signs to carpeted areas.

Pay off layaways 50 cents at a time.

Play soccer with a group of friends, using the entire store as your playing field.

Play with the automatic doors.

Play with the calculators so that they all spell "hello" upside down.

Randomly throw things over into neighboring aisles.

"Re-alphabetize" the CD's.

Re-dress the mannequins as you see fit.

Relax in the patio furniture until you get kicked out.

Ride a display bicycle through the store; claim you are taking it for a test drive.

Ride those little electronic cars at the front of the store.

Say things like, "Would you be so kind as to direct me to your Twinkies."

Set all the alarm clocks to go off at ten-minute intervals throughout the day.

Set up a "Valet Parking" sign in front of the store.

Set up a tent in the camping department and tell other shoppers you'll invite them in if they bring pillows from the bed department.

Start playing Calvinball; see how many people you can get to join.

Take bets on the battle from above.

Take off your shoes and tell them you want to return it and when they say you didn't buy it there say, "Hm... I thought the customer was always right!"

Take shopping carts for the express purpose of filling them and stranding them at strategic locations.

Take up an entire aisle in toys by setting up a full-scale battle with G.I. Joe vs. X-men.

Test the brushes and combs in cosmetics.

Test the fishing rods and see what you can catch from other aisles.

TP as much of the store as possible before they stop you.

Try to hold up customers with the toy guns. See how much you can make.

Tune all the radios to polka stations; then turn them off and turn the volume up to full blast.

Walk up to an employee and tell him/her in an official tone, 'Code 3' in Housewares and see what happens.

Walk up to complete strangers and say, "Hi. I haven't seen you in so long." etc. See if they play along.

When 2 or 3 people are walking ahead of you, run between them yelling "Red Rover."

When a clerk asks if they can help you, begin to cry and ask, "Why can't you people just leave me alone?"

When an announcement comes over the loud speaker, assume the fetal position and scream "NO! NO! It's those voices again!!!"

When someone steps away from his or her cart to look at something, quickly make off with it without saying a word.

When there are people behind you, walk really slowly, especially in thin aisles.

While handling guns in the hunting department, ask the clerk if he knows where the anti-depressants are.

While walking through the clothing department, ask yourself loud enough for all to hear, "Who buys this crap anyway?!"

For "go to a clerk and say code3" Code 3 is when theres a missing kid.
Ohhh and

If a mom or dad is shopping with a teenager, put a condom in the cart, watch the paren'ts reaction

lol

Question #18:

Help with Wedding Ceremony Music?

Hi everyone- I am getting married next September and am having a really hard time deciding on ceremony music. We are getting married in an outdoor garden and our DJ is able to play any song we want. I really want to do something beautiful, unique and memorable instead of traditional cannon in D and here comes the bride.
Right now I am thinking of having the bridal party walk down to either "Forever" by Ben Harper, "The Luckiet" by Ben Folds, or the instrumental version of Snow Patrol's "Chasing Cars" by the the Vitamin String Quartet. I think I am going to walk down the aisle to Michael Buble's "Can't Help Falling in love with you". I really like modern songs like "this year's love" by David Grey, "Hold You in My Arms" by Ray Lamontagne and "The Blowers Daughter" by Damien Rice... just to give you an idea of the style of music I like.
Any suggestions would be welcomed!
10 points to the best answer!!!

Question #19:

Are all ladybugs the same?

Are all ladybugs the same?
I've only seen a ladybug once in my life when one happen to land on the back of my hand in june 2007. yes i remember lol and well i've heard that people like them because they help in their gardens. I don;t know exactly how or why but when i started to plant vegetables and rose plants in my backyard when i got my own first home last november and all my plants have holes in their leaves. My Friend said that ladybugs help because they eat what makes those holes. yeah i think that's pretty much what she said. so i've been waiting for over a year to hop fully see one ladybug in my backyard. None of my neighbors grow the variety of things i now do so i thought they would naturally be attracted to my backyard. I go out there every morning and even and have never spotted one except for literally years ago. But last night and tonight on the screen door of my front door their have been 4 grey lady bugs. I wonder why they dint go to my backyard to where my plants are. Then i began to wonder if maybe they are different some how from the typical red ladybugs we all think of. Thank you if u have any insight.
i mean like do the grey ones just hangout at night and thats why we see the red ones more because they hang out more in the day? i really have no clue. thats why im tinking up these silly tings. r they different? i live in south west texas is that not a typical place for them? is that why i havent seen but one in my life except for now these 4 grey ones at night on my front door?
But why are they different colors? in the same town i saw a red one years ago on a bright and early day all of a sudden i see 4 grey ones at night on my door for the second night in a row. if u catch what i am saying is there a reason for that? grey ones come out at night? red ones in day? i know it sounds silly but im just trying to get you all to understand that kind of answer i am seeking. are grey ladybugs different from the red ones? how and why? Like i dont try and sound clever on these sort of things i can see how dumb i sound so i do realize that there are different species. maybe i am asking all wrong or maybe people just want point for anwsering i dont know. but if u know about ladybugs please let me know MORE this question is becoming more important with realising almost noone ive asked can tell me why grey lady bugs or gery OR WHATEVER! Just whats the difference between red and grey and otherones too i guess. do the grey ones mate with the red ones. catch my drift?

Question #20:

my baby rabbit died- she seemed perfect 2 hours ago what happened?

I got 3 baby lionheads about 2 weeks ago. I wasn't told how old they were, but they were really small. My friend has 2 lionheads who are 7 weeks old and these ones I have still aren't as large as that- i suppose that doesnt mean they are actually younger as they could just be a smaller type (they are purebred but could just tend on the smaller size!) however I am considering that they may only be about 7 weeks right now, meaning they left mum at 5 weeks which is too young of course.

Anyway- one of them (beautiful smokey light chinchilla grey with dark points) called Destiny- died this evening. I fed them this morning (there are 3 of them) and she was jumping up at the wire door for food as normal and seemed perfect- she is really friendly. My children saw her after school and say she was fine, and when they opened her cage she was as normal....i went to feed them about 1-2 hours after the children saw her and she was dead in the cage...her siblings jumping over her looking a little concerned, i knew straight away she wasn't good and when i picked her up she had a slight stiffness that told me she WAS dead, not just ill.
They are not vaccinated for anything yet- my vet said 10 weeks plus for VHD and / or myxi.
There looked like nothing WRONG with her at all...she acted as normal- i am really worried for the other rabbits in the same cage and my other rabbits in the garden as i have another pair of young rabbits not yet vaccinated (they are due on Friday for myxi and 2 weeks later for vhd) and i have a mum & her litter of 5 living in my house (took on a pregnant bunny to rehome) and another one in my garden in a hutch- adult, is vaccinated but they are due again this month - and worried they might get whatever this was= any suggestions what could have killed my beautiful little girl Destiny?

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