<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2981260420971933771</id><updated>2011-12-27T05:49:33.885-08:00</updated><category term='story'/><category term='pirates'/><category term='children'/><category term='jungle'/><category term='grasshopper'/><category term='poem'/><category term='birthday'/><category term='vacation'/><category term='kites'/><category term='holiday'/><category term='mermaids'/><category term='garden'/><category term='boys'/><category term='party'/><category term='bedtime'/><category term='date'/><category term='ies'/><category term='fairy'/><category term='mermaid'/><category term='bicycle'/><category term='childrens'/><category term='girls'/><category term='sbedtime'/><category term='pirate'/><category term='stories'/><category term='kids'/><category term='fairies'/><title type='text'>once upon a time</title><subtitle type='html'>tales for children by keith hillman</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>keith hillman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13564578491652021492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m-OTYfHrjkc/TvnMtarhTZI/AAAAAAAAL6s/JZ6ouMqGzh8/s220/17987339389_ppccr.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>21</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2981260420971933771.post-1896891732807702681</id><published>2010-04-16T00:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-16T00:28:36.243-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Grandpa's teeth!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Little Jimmy went to stay with Granny and Grandpa. He  always had fun when he went there. Grandpa had false teeth! Jimmy was fascinated  by them because they seemed to move around in a different direction from his  gums! Granny said that they’d never fitted properly and sometimes when he dozed  off in his chair they fell out completely!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Well, the other morning when Jimmy came down for breakfast,  Grandpa has lost his teeth! He was having great difficulty chewing his toast and  had to dip it in his cup of tea to make it soft enough to swallow!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;On the table was a new pack of Jimmy’s favourite breakfast  cereal, Chocolate Puffs which Jimmy always called rabbit droppings! There was a  big bright splash on the box which said ‘Surprise Gift Inside’ so Jimmy plunged  his hand into the cereal to dig it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dWAujebi-V4/S8eSBe48ZgI/AAAAAAAAJCE/ZAZ58TJKqRo/s1600/Full_20Dentures.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="121" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dWAujebi-V4/S8eSBe48ZgI/AAAAAAAAJCE/ZAZ58TJKqRo/s200/Full_20Dentures.gif" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Suddenly he yelped! ‘Ouch’ he shrieked, and when he  pulled his hand out Grandpa’s set of false teeth were attached to his middle  finger. Jimmy shook his hand and the teeth flew across the room then bounced off  the wall and fell to the floor.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;‘There they are’ said Grandpa with a huge gummy grin on his  face. He bent down to pick them up and suddenly they started to scurry across  the carpet. Jimmy, Granny and Grandpa’s eyes popped out! The teeth were alive.  The Casper the cat looked on terrified. As the teeth rat-a-tatted towards him he  turned round and fled, but the teeth were too quick for him and all of a sudden  they shot across the floor and bit into Casper’s tail! &amp;nbsp;Casper was not impressed  and he spun round and round until the teeth let go and went flying up and up and  up into the air.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Jimmy, Granny and Grandpa looked up in amazement, their  eyes bulging, wondering where they were going to land next! Then down and down  and down they fell, straight into Grandpas open mouth! Plop!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Jimmy decided to have a boiled egg and soldiers instead of  rabbit droppings. Hopefully there would be nothing unusual lurking deep inside  the yolk&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2981260420971933771-1896891732807702681?l=keithskids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/feeds/1896891732807702681/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2981260420971933771&amp;postID=1896891732807702681' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/1896891732807702681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/1896891732807702681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/2010/04/grandpas-teeth.html' title='Grandpa&apos;s teeth!'/><author><name>keith hillman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13564578491652021492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m-OTYfHrjkc/TvnMtarhTZI/AAAAAAAAL6s/JZ6ouMqGzh8/s220/17987339389_ppccr.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dWAujebi-V4/S8eSBe48ZgI/AAAAAAAAJCE/ZAZ58TJKqRo/s72-c/Full_20Dentures.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2981260420971933771.post-173488816405558494</id><published>2009-12-24T06:30:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-24T06:30:43.981-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It snowed today</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It snowed today&lt;br /&gt;Hip hip hooray&lt;br /&gt;Slid down a hill&lt;br /&gt;sat on a tray&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Built a snowman&lt;br /&gt;fingers froze&lt;br /&gt;Used a carrot&lt;br /&gt;for his nose&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Threw a snowball&lt;br /&gt;at my dad&lt;br /&gt;The best-est time&lt;br /&gt;I ever had&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But then the snowfall&lt;br /&gt;turned to rain&lt;br /&gt;my snowman melted&lt;br /&gt;and ran down the drain&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2981260420971933771-173488816405558494?l=keithskids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/feeds/173488816405558494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2981260420971933771&amp;postID=173488816405558494' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/173488816405558494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/173488816405558494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/2009/12/it-snowed-today.html' title='It snowed today'/><author><name>keith hillman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13564578491652021492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m-OTYfHrjkc/TvnMtarhTZI/AAAAAAAAL6s/JZ6ouMqGzh8/s220/17987339389_ppccr.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2981260420971933771.post-2837219510530724343</id><published>2009-07-22T15:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T15:52:54.780-07:00</updated><title type='text'>James had a plan</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; color: rgb(255, 255, 255); line-height: 24px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Tommy, come over here’ called James waving his arms in the air. Tommy took a flying leap off the swing but landed somewhat awkwardly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Ouch’ he yelled sta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dWAujebi-V4/SmI5FXUSrjI/AAAAAAAAGHc/ixReSagaiCg/s1600-h/whisper.jpg" style="text-decoration: none; "&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359909270845566514" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dWAujebi-V4/SmI5FXUSrjI/AAAAAAAAGHc/ixReSagaiCg/s200/whisper.jpg" style="border-top-style: solid; border-right-style: solid; border-bottom-style: solid; border-left-style: solid; border-width: initial; border-color: initial; border-top-width: 1px; border-right-width: 1px; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-left-width: 1px; padding-top: 4px; padding-right: 4px; padding-bottom: 4px; padding-left: 4px; border-top-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-right-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-left-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; width: 196px; float: left; height: 200px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;nding on one leg whilst massaging his injured ankle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Don’t be such a wimp’ called James ‘Just come here’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tommy limped and hopped and stumbled until he reached the gate over which James had been calling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘I’ve got a plan’ said James. ‘Do you want to be part of it?’&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly Tommy forgot that he was supposed to be in pain. ‘What’s your plan James?’ he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James leapt over the gate. He too made a bit of a mess of it, and landed on his knees! But James was a tough guy. A graze and a little bit of blood were nothing to him. After all they looked like battle scars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He stood up, brushed the dirt from his legs, cupped his hand and whispered something very secret in Tommy’s ear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Wow’ said Tommy. ‘What a great plan. Do you mean we are going to......’ And with that James clasped his hand over Tommy’s mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘It’s a secret plan silly’’ he said ‘do you really want to spoil it?’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tommy shook his head then raised a finger to his lips. ‘It’s a secret plan’ he hissed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The two lads set off down the road marching like soldiers. They stopped at Rupert’s door, knocked on it asked to speak to their friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Rupert appeared James said ‘We have a plan Rupert! Tommy, tell him about it’.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tommy cupped his hand and whispered something in Rupert’s ear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Great’ said Rupert jumping up and down with excitement. ‘I’ll join in!’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The three of them marched off down the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Can Simon be part of the plan? said Rupert.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘I suppose so’ said James. ‘But remember its secret’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rupert went to find Simon and when he did he cupped his hand and whispered something in Simon’s ear. Simons face lit up. He asked his Mum if he could go out to play. Mum said he could as long as he didn’t get into any mischief and with that the four of them set off marching down the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simon spotted Sally sitting by the pond.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Look’ he said ‘There’s Sally. Can she be part of the plan?’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What?’ said the other boys all together. ‘But she’s a girl!’&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;‘I know’ said Simon ‘but the other day I dared her to pick a bunch of stinging nettles and eat the leaves, and she did! That’s a pretty brave thing for a girl to do’.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other three went into a huddle. After a lot of nodding and shaking of heads, James told Simon that provided she behaved like one of them she could join in. Simon went over to Sally and whispered in her ear. Sally suddenly started skipping around and making girly squeaking noises.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;‘I think we made have made the wrong decision’ said James ‘but it’s too late now'. Come along guys’ he called and they all started marching in the direction of Farmer Jacobs' barn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Right’ shouted James ‘you all know what we have to do. Off you go and we’ll meet up at the swings in one hour’s time’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘But how will we know when the hour is up?’ said Rupert ‘I haven’t got a watch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Nor have I protested Sally’&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;‘Duh’ bellowed James. ‘What do you think that is up there on the church tower? It’s a clock Dumbos. We meet at a quarter past three. That’s when the big hand points to.................’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘We know’ the others shouted. We are not &lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt; stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Is that when the little hand points to six?’ chuckled a sarcastic Tommy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;At ten minutes past three James took his position sitting on the gate by the swings. One by one Tommy, Simon, Rupert and Sally returned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Sally’ sighed James ‘what’s &lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt; for?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Simon told me to borrow the farmer’s barrow from the barn’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘No I didn’t’ cried Simon ‘I told you to borrow the farmers hat from the barn’ That’s what Rupert told me’&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;‘I said what?’ laughed Rupert. ‘I didn’t say that. I told you we were to get the hat from the farmer’s scarecrow!’ He popped a straw hat on his head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘What are you talking about Rupert? asked Tommy. ‘The plan was to ......’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Stop and be quiet all of you’ yelled an angry James. ‘You’ve all ruined my plan. All I wanted you to do was to...’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But he stopped short when he spotted a red faced and very cross looking Farmer Jacobs running towards then waving a rake in the air.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;‘Run guys’ shouted James and they all scurried off in the direction of the village.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose we’ll never know what James’ plan was. Have you got any ideas? Whatever it was I bet it was a good one!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#000000;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2981260420971933771-2837219510530724343?l=keithskids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/feeds/2837219510530724343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2981260420971933771&amp;postID=2837219510530724343' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/2837219510530724343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/2837219510530724343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/2009/07/james-had-plan.html' title='James had a plan'/><author><name>keith hillman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13564578491652021492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m-OTYfHrjkc/TvnMtarhTZI/AAAAAAAAL6s/JZ6ouMqGzh8/s220/17987339389_ppccr.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dWAujebi-V4/SmI5FXUSrjI/AAAAAAAAGHc/ixReSagaiCg/s72-c/whisper.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2981260420971933771.post-1481308345862222143</id><published>2008-12-27T15:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T16:00:36.266-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the man in the moon</title><content type='html'>Little Tyler was staring out of his bedroom window. The sky was clear and the moon was huge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He leaned his head on one side and then the other. He squinted and wrinkled his nose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His sister Kate crept up behind him ‘Boo’ she shouted and Tyler almost jumped out of his skin!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘What are you looking at Tyler?’ she asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘The moon’ said Tyler’ I’m trying to see the man in the moon’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate giggled. ‘Don’t be silly Tyler, there’s no man in the moon. There can’t be because the moon is made of cheese’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Perhaps he likes cheese’ said Tyler.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mum walked into the room. ‘Hi you two, what are you looking at?’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘We are looking at the moon’ said Kate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘The moon’s a balloon’ said Mum with a silly grin on her face ‘A big round yellow balloon’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They all looked at each other and laughed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Tyler believes a man lives in the moon’ chuckled Kate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Kate believes the moon is made of cheese’ laughed Kate ‘It’s not a balloon Mum!’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘I’ll tell you what I believe’ said Mum ‘I believe its way past your bedtime!’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate went back to her room and opened the curtains just a little so she could just see the moon from her bed. She felt sure she saw a little mouse nibbling away at the surface.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tyler took one last look before he jumped into bed and waved to the man in the moon - and I believe the man in the moon winked back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2981260420971933771-1481308345862222143?l=keithskids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/feeds/1481308345862222143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2981260420971933771&amp;postID=1481308345862222143' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/1481308345862222143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/1481308345862222143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/2008/12/man-in-moon.html' title='the man in the moon'/><author><name>keith hillman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13564578491652021492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m-OTYfHrjkc/TvnMtarhTZI/AAAAAAAAL6s/JZ6ouMqGzh8/s220/17987339389_ppccr.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2981260420971933771.post-4694904061309122194</id><published>2008-11-27T16:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-27T16:40:37.384-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My zoo</title><content type='html'>If I was a frog&lt;br /&gt;I’d sit on a log&lt;br /&gt;and stick out my tongue&lt;br /&gt;and catch flies&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I was a worm&lt;br /&gt;I’d wriggle and turn&lt;br /&gt;and dig a deep hole&lt;br /&gt;where I’d hide&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I was a bee&lt;br /&gt;I’d buzz round a tree&lt;br /&gt;and dive into flowers&lt;br /&gt;to make honey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I was a mouse&lt;br /&gt;I’d live in your house&lt;br /&gt;and eat all your cheese&lt;br /&gt;and your bread&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I was a snail&lt;br /&gt;I’d leave a white trail&lt;br /&gt;and sleep in a shell&lt;br /&gt;on my back&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I was a child&lt;br /&gt;I’d live in the wild&lt;br /&gt;if my mum and my dad&lt;br /&gt;said I could&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then what I’d do&lt;br /&gt;is start my own zoo&lt;br /&gt;with the ants and the slugs&lt;br /&gt;and bugs too&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2981260420971933771-4694904061309122194?l=keithskids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/feeds/4694904061309122194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2981260420971933771&amp;postID=4694904061309122194' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/4694904061309122194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/4694904061309122194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/2008/11/my-zoo.html' title='My zoo'/><author><name>keith hillman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13564578491652021492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m-OTYfHrjkc/TvnMtarhTZI/AAAAAAAAL6s/JZ6ouMqGzh8/s220/17987339389_ppccr.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2981260420971933771.post-8084345291490274193</id><published>2008-07-14T12:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T07:47:13.560-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Freddie and the Frog</title><content type='html'>Little Freddy was on his hands and knees staring into a pond watching the little fishes staring back at him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ribbit – hello – ribbit” a strange voice said! Freddy shot up and looked around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Who’s there?” he said rather nervously&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ribbit – me- ribbit” the voice said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;”Don’t be silly” said Freddy “no one’s called Ribbit. I call my friend Rabbit because he has big ears, but you are not him. And where are you anyway?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ribbit – over here- ribbit”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Freddy’s eyes popped out like gobstoppers! He realised that a big green slimy frog sitting on a lily pad was talking to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ya–ya-you can’t-t-t-t-talk – you are a f-f-f-frog” stammered Freddy. “Frogs only cr-cr-croak”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ribbit – yes I can - ribbit”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Wait ‘til my friends see you!” shouted Freddy “I’m taking you home. You are going to be my pet and all my friends will be jealous”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ribbit – you’ll have to catch me first – ribbit”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And with that the frog leapt into the air and landed on the far side of the pond. Freddy rushed around the pond but tripped on a stone and landed on his bottom in the shallow smelly stinky water at the edge!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ribbit – you can’t catch me – ribbit” laughed the frog!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then he jumped in the air and landed on a mound of grass in the field.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Freddy got up, slithered a couple of times, and then ran into the field toward the frog. A cow was chewing something or other, then sort of smiled as Freddy slipped again, and landed with his face in a pile of cow poo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Oh horrid” cried Freddy as he wiped the brown muck of his cheeks and rubbed his eyes.” I’m going to catch you – you see”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ribbit – come and get me then – ribbit”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the frog went hop hop hop towards the hedge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly Freddy tripped over a fallen branch and landed flat on an ant hill. The busy ants stopped working and started to creep and crawl up Freddy’s legs. Up jumped Freddy and he spun round and round around brushing his legs and sweeping the ants away before they could start nibbling at his knees and things!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Go away – get off- stop tickling” he screamed. “Okay Mister Frog” he shouted “I’m coming after you and you won’t get away”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ribbit – bye bye – ribbit” said the frog and he jumped clean over the prickly hedge and out of site.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Freddy was a bit upset. He was wet, smelt horrible and had itchy little bites on his legs. He slouched home with his hands in his pockets feeling very sorry for himself. He pushed open the gate to his garden and wandered up the path towards the kitchen door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ribbit – ribbit – ribbit”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Freddy looked around then caught site of big green slimy frog sitting in a puddle on the lawn.&lt;br /&gt;“There you are” shouted Freddy. “I suppose you think that was funny”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ribbit – ribbit – ribbit”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Speak to me frog – I know you can”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, Freddy’s mother heard him and she came rushing out. She was so shocked at the state of him that she gasped and put her hand over her mouth. She walked over to him then had to pinch her nose when she smelt him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“What happened to you, and who are you talking to?” she asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“That frog!!” shouted Freddy pointing with his grubby finger. “It can talk!!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Don’t be silly “smiled his mother. “Now go in, and get those filthy clothes off”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“But...”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“No buts Freddy, go indoors now. NOW”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Freddy went in, and his mother looked at the frog and smiled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ribbit – ribbit – ribbit” croaked the frog. Then he winked, waved one little green leg then flew over the fence and hopped away!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2981260420971933771-8084345291490274193?l=keithskids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/feeds/8084345291490274193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2981260420971933771&amp;postID=8084345291490274193' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/8084345291490274193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/8084345291490274193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/2008/07/little-freddy-was-on-his-hands-and.html' title='Freddie and the Frog'/><author><name>keith hillman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13564578491652021492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m-OTYfHrjkc/TvnMtarhTZI/AAAAAAAAL6s/JZ6ouMqGzh8/s220/17987339389_ppccr.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2981260420971933771.post-5734730987680195373</id><published>2008-04-10T16:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T16:20:32.445-07:00</updated><title type='text'>fearless</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R_6gd3zHj3I/AAAAAAAACBs/BXsn_D6NlJY/s1600-h/spider.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187760255832395634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R_6gd3zHj3I/AAAAAAAACBs/BXsn_D6NlJY/s320/spider.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Little Johnny and his friend Maria were always together. They liked the same things. Mr Men books, glove puppets and jumping up and down! Johnny quite liked Marias dolls, but he didn’t tell the other boys, and Maria loved playing with Johnny’s toy cars but she didn’t tell her sister.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day they played dare! Johnny dared Maria to pick up a wriggly worm and she did! Maria dared Johnny to touch some slimy frog spawn and he did. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then along came Johnny’s brother Harry. He was not frightened of anything. He once crawled up the slide in the park, and climbed a tree to get an apple. And last Christmas he even ate a sprout! Yuc!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Harry started doing daring things. He let a caterpillar walk up his arm, and he spun round and round until he was giddy. He picked one of Daddy’s flowers, but that was really a bit naughty. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Maria ran up to him holding a big brown hairy spider behind her back. She told Harry to close his eyes and hold out his hand. She put it on his palm and asked him to open his eyes. Harry took one look, screamed and ran down the garden. He was not so fearless after all! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2981260420971933771-5734730987680195373?l=keithskids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/feeds/5734730987680195373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2981260420971933771&amp;postID=5734730987680195373' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/5734730987680195373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/5734730987680195373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/2008/04/fearless.html' title='fearless'/><author><name>keith hillman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13564578491652021492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m-OTYfHrjkc/TvnMtarhTZI/AAAAAAAAL6s/JZ6ouMqGzh8/s220/17987339389_ppccr.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R_6gd3zHj3I/AAAAAAAACBs/BXsn_D6NlJY/s72-c/spider.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2981260420971933771.post-5975231942564863486</id><published>2008-03-26T16:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-26T16:22:17.480-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's not fair!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I can see it&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;just up there&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I can’t reach it,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;that’s not fair!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If I grab this leg&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and shake&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;it may fall down!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;but it might break&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Even stood&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;on tippy-toes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;how I’ll get it&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;heaven knows&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.#&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Suppose I climb&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;up on this chair?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I don’t like heights&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;don’t think I dare&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;If I clamber&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;on the shelf&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I might fall&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and hurt myself&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It’s not fair&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I’ll let it be&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;it’s not easy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;being three&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;'&lt;br /&gt;'&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2981260420971933771-5975231942564863486?l=keithskids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/feeds/5975231942564863486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2981260420971933771&amp;postID=5975231942564863486' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/5975231942564863486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/5975231942564863486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/2008/03/its-not-fair.html' title='It&apos;s not fair!'/><author><name>keith hillman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13564578491652021492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m-OTYfHrjkc/TvnMtarhTZI/AAAAAAAAL6s/JZ6ouMqGzh8/s220/17987339389_ppccr.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2981260420971933771.post-8021275248597444027</id><published>2008-03-18T16:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-18T17:50:12.651-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's dark tonight</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;It's so very dark tonight&lt;br /&gt;I can’t see very far.&lt;br /&gt;Look the moon is tilting back,&lt;br /&gt;to catch a falling star!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Something’s flutt'ring up above&lt;br /&gt;A bat as brown as mud.&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Wow! Too close for comfort&lt;br /&gt;I'm keeping all my blood!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Hey, look a shooting star up there&lt;br /&gt;flying without sound&lt;br /&gt;I wonder where it shot from&lt;br /&gt;and where they hit the ground?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Can you see that moth there?&lt;br /&gt;hovering by the light.&lt;br /&gt;I wonder where he sleeps by day&lt;br /&gt;He only &lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R9h46trWBoI/AAAAAAAABzg/a3p_jSWMNaw/s1600-h/featherskull.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;flies at night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff99;"&gt;'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Now come on stop that hiding,&lt;br /&gt;darkness holds no fear.&lt;br /&gt;Please don't try to scare me.&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I'm outa here!&lt;br /&gt;let me read it to you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffcc;"&gt;,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2981260420971933771-8021275248597444027?l=keithskids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/feeds/8021275248597444027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2981260420971933771&amp;postID=8021275248597444027' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/8021275248597444027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/8021275248597444027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/2008/03/blog-post.html' title='It&apos;s dark tonight'/><author><name>keith hillman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13564578491652021492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m-OTYfHrjkc/TvnMtarhTZI/AAAAAAAAL6s/JZ6ouMqGzh8/s220/17987339389_ppccr.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2981260420971933771.post-5777071407172432152</id><published>2008-02-16T08:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-16T08:38:57.286-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tom goes time travelling</title><content type='html'>Tom saw a programme on television about people who could travel back to times gone by, and forward to sometime in the future. That looked fun. All they did was sit in a big chair, put a funny hat on their head, pull a lever, and suddenly they found themselves in another year. ‘I could do that’ said Tom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First he needed the chair. It had to be big. Daddy had a big black one with arms in front of his desk. He wouldn’t need it today because he was at work. That one would be perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, the lever. ‘A big wooden spoon from the kitchen’ said Tom to himself. He found the biggest one he could and tied it to the arm of the chair with a piece of string from the kitchen drawer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he needed a helmet. He looked all around, in the cupboards and on the shelves and then he spotted a shiny silver colander hanging on a hook over the sink. ‘Perfect’ said Tom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was sure that the helmet he saw on TV had an aerial on the top. ‘I know’ said Tom. And he dashed up to the landing where mummy had a big pot of dead sticks and things. He could never understand what they were doing indoors, but Mummy told him they were dried foliage and she said they looked nice. Anyway right in the middle were some curly ones. So he carefully pulled one out and poked it into a hole in the colander.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He climbed up into the chair, put the helmet on his head, closed his eyes and pulled back the lever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Tom opened his eyes he was in the park. It didn’t look quite the same though. The swings and the slide were still there, but they were brown and made of wood.Then running along a path came a boy who looked just like his best friend Charlie. But Charlie usually steered his remote control car along there and this boy was chasing a big wooden hoop which he wacked with a stick. And he was wearing funny brown clothes. Trousers which stopped at his knees, long socks, a brown jacket, and a brown cap on his head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walking behind him were a man and a woman who looked just like Charlie’s Mum and Dad. But the woman had a little hat with feathers in it on her head, and a brown and white spotty dress down to her ankles. Then he noticed she had a dead fox around her neck! And Charlie’s Dad normally wore a baseball cap, but this man wore a brown hat with a brim around it, a stripy suit and shiny black and white shoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then everything began to fade, so Tom pushed the lever forward and the chair felt as it was spinning and when it stopped he was back in the park again.Only there was nobody there. There were no birds singing. The flowers were dead and the trees had no leaves. The lake was empty and everything around him was grey and dusty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tom suddenly heard a ghostly voice in his ear ‘Don’t let this happen Tom’ it whispered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tom closed his eyes because he didn’t like what he was seeing. He gave the lever a tug to take him back home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'What are you doing in my chair young man? ‘said Daddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘There’s my colander!’ said Mummy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘I’m starving’ said Tom. ‘Is it tea time?’&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2981260420971933771-5777071407172432152?l=keithskids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/feeds/5777071407172432152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2981260420971933771&amp;postID=5777071407172432152' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/5777071407172432152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/5777071407172432152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/2008/02/tom-goes-time-travelling.html' title='Tom goes time travelling'/><author><name>keith hillman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13564578491652021492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m-OTYfHrjkc/TvnMtarhTZI/AAAAAAAAL6s/JZ6ouMqGzh8/s220/17987339389_ppccr.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2981260420971933771.post-3870586591422471407</id><published>2008-02-10T17:46:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-12T09:44:34.519-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sbedtime'/><title type='text'>High in the sky</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;'' &lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R7Al46CmBxI/AAAAAAAABm8/DdZ0e3uJqCY/s1600-h/girl+on+back.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165670432176998162" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R7Al46CmBxI/AAAAAAAABm8/DdZ0e3uJqCY/s400/girl+on+back.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Jessica loved to look at the sky, especially when it was a sunny day. Today was very sunny and the sky was the bluest blue she had ever seen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She liked to lie on her back on the grass and watch everything that was going on above her. But Mummy said she had to be careful not to look straight at the sun because it could hurt her eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;She laid down and started to look around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165669057787463394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R7Ako6CmBuI/AAAAAAAABmk/Hr5WBbqexfU/s400/big-cloud.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;First she saw a fluffy white cloud. It was moving very slowly across the sky. It looked like a giant cotton wool ball, and as it floated in front of the sun it went a little darker for a minute or two. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165668525211518674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R7AkJ6CmBtI/AAAAAAAABmc/HuKfdpnXj_s/s400/red-admiral-on-butterfly-bush.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A beautiful butterfly fluttered above Jessica and looked down at her. It had orange and black and white wings. It flew this way and that until it suddenly decided to fly away and land on the big flowery bush.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165667949685900994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R7AjoaCmBsI/AAAAAAAABmU/If7ede0Dq_U/s400/gull.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;High up in the air Jessica saw a some birds flying up, up, up, then down, down, down. They were pure white. She remembered that mummy called them seagulls. They started making squawking noises and sounded a bit cross with each other!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165667700577797810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R7AjZ6CmBrI/AAAAAAAABmM/AeGyB8L6KZA/s400/bee_6_bg_042404.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jessica heard a buzzing sound. At first it was quiet, but it started getting louder and louder. Then just above her head flew a busy bee on its way to find pollen to make honey. It was big and yellow and stripey. She was a little bit scared of the bee, but Mummy told her that if she didn’t upset it, wouldn’t come anywhere near her. So she was very brave and the bee buzzed off!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165666618246039202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R7Aia6CmBqI/AAAAAAAABmE/zamiinsPD-4/s400/Dragonfly001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then in the rays of sunlight, she saw a cloud of teeny weeny flies going round and round in the warmth. And hovering over the fish pond was a brightly coloured dragonfly. It had a very long tale and wings that flapped so fast that they were just a blur!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165665553094149762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R7Ahc6CmBoI/AAAAAAAABl0/l5iOc7mEJLE/s400/vapour_trail_pa449.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miles up in the sky, an aeroplane flew over her. Jessica new it was very big because she went on holiday in one last year, but this one looked tiny right up there. It was silver and it sparkled in the sunlight. A long white vapour trail came from the back of it and left a line across the sky. And it made a quiet humming noise. Jessica wondered where it was flying too. She thought it would be somewhere hot and sunny.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All this sky gazing made Jessica tired, and her eyes got smaller and smaller until they closed and she fell fast asleep. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next thing Jessica remembered was her Mummy gently shaking her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Wake up Jessica! You fell asleep! It’s time for tea’. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2981260420971933771-3870586591422471407?l=keithskids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/feeds/3870586591422471407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2981260420971933771&amp;postID=3870586591422471407' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/3870586591422471407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/3870586591422471407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/2008/02/high-in-sky.html' title='High in the sky'/><author><name>keith hillman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13564578491652021492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m-OTYfHrjkc/TvnMtarhTZI/AAAAAAAAL6s/JZ6ouMqGzh8/s220/17987339389_ppccr.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R7Al46CmBxI/AAAAAAAABm8/DdZ0e3uJqCY/s72-c/girl+on+back.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2981260420971933771.post-484378178361636504</id><published>2008-02-03T16:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-04T02:22:01.079-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bedtime'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kites'/><title type='text'>I've got a new kite!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R6bmsz4dUTI/AAAAAAAABh0/x_5ct_uo204/s1600-h/kite_lbl_02.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163067680342495538" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R6bmsz4dUTI/AAAAAAAABh0/x_5ct_uo204/s200/kite_lbl_02.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R6ZhkT4dUPI/AAAAAAAABhU/D01BXhd_D6o/s1600-h/3+kite.gif"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I’ve got a new kite. My Grandpa gave it to me. It’s shaped like a diamond and it’s nearly as big as me! It’s my favourite colours – yellow, red, blue, and green , and it has a long tail with lots of  bows on it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today Grandpa took me to the park. It was quite windy and I had a job carrying it. I blew over once, but I didn’t let go of my kite.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to the top of the hill. There were a lot of children there flying their kites.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Grandpa held the kite for me and I walked backwards unwinding the string. Then he shouted ‘stop’ so I stopped. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Hold the string tight’ he said ‘then run away from me as fast as you can’. So I started running and Grandpa let go of the kite. I looked over my shoulder and my kite was going up into the air. Grandpa shouted ‘Keep running’ so I did. I was out of breath!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Stop’ shouted Grandpa. ‘and keep tugging on the string’. I pulled and pulled and my kite fluttered miles and miles above my head. Then suddenly it started going round and round in circles! I laughed so much that I nearly cried!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Round and round it went, faster and faster, then suddenly it dived towards the ground and Grandpa had to run in case it landed on his head!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It went thud as it hit the grass. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let’s try again said Grandpa. So we did. Up it went and suddenly the wind started blowing very very hard, and the kite pulled and pulled. It nearly pulled me of my feet! Grandpa had to help me hold on so I didn’t go up in the air and fly away!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then suddenly it flew into a tree and got stuck. I was a bit upset and wanted to cry, but I was brave so I didn’t. Grandpa and another man jiggled and wiggled the string and the kite came free and floated down to the ground. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was very tired, so Grandpa said ‘Let’s put the kite in the car and go to the ice cream shop’ &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I thought that was a very good idea!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had a double choc chip cone with extra chocolate sauce and a flake. It was yummy! I hope we go kite flying again because I like ice cream!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2981260420971933771-484378178361636504?l=keithskids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/feeds/484378178361636504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2981260420971933771&amp;postID=484378178361636504' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/484378178361636504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/484378178361636504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/2008/02/ive-got-new-kite.html' title='I&apos;ve got a new kite!'/><author><name>keith hillman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13564578491652021492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m-OTYfHrjkc/TvnMtarhTZI/AAAAAAAAL6s/JZ6ouMqGzh8/s220/17987339389_ppccr.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R6bmsz4dUTI/AAAAAAAABh0/x_5ct_uo204/s72-c/kite_lbl_02.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2981260420971933771.post-2087668773750034329</id><published>2008-01-27T01:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T13:29:38.587-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bedtime'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vacation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='childrens'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holiday'/><title type='text'>Are we there yet?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R5xWKD4dTwI/AAAAAAAABco/v1nDDkvIyeM/s1600-h/kids+car.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160094003900534530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R5xWKD4dTwI/AAAAAAAABco/v1nDDkvIyeM/s400/kids+car.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Charlotte and William were going on holiday. They jumped into the back of their Mum and Dad’s car, put on their seat belts and got ready for the long journey ahead. Charlotte had her favourite pink doll on her lap, and William had a book.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Are we there yet?’ asked William.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;‘No’ laughed Dad. ‘We haven’t left town yet! Let’s play a game’&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘I Spy’ shouted Charlotte ‘I spy with my little eye, something beginning with –er- er- er...’&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;‘Hurry up slow coach!’ said William.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘It’s difficult ‘said Charlotte. ‘I spy something, and then it disappears because we are going so fast’.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Why don’t you look out for blue cars?’ asked Mum ‘When you see one shout blue, and we’ll see who spots the most’.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Blue’, yelled William. ‘Blue ... blue ... blue...’&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘It’s not fair’ moaned Charlotte with a frown on her face. ‘William’s taller than me so he sees them first, it’s not fair, it’s not fair. Are we there yet Dad?’&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Not yet sweetie’ said Dad. ‘Why don’t you read your book to your sister William?’&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘&lt;em&gt;Alright&lt;/em&gt;’ William said grumpily ‘Once upon a time there was a big curly sheep which....’&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘I’ve heard it before’ said Charlotte.’ How much longer Dad? Are we nearly there?’&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;‘Let’s sing a song’ suggested Mum.’ I know, we’ll sing old MacDonald had a farm!’&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mum started singing, but Charlotte and William didn’t join in. She looked around and they were both fast asleep.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Are we nearly there dear? Mum asked. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;'Don't you start' laughed Dad!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2981260420971933771-2087668773750034329?l=keithskids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/feeds/2087668773750034329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2981260420971933771&amp;postID=2087668773750034329' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/2087668773750034329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/2087668773750034329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/2008/01/are-we-there-yet.html' title='Are we there yet?'/><author><name>keith hillman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13564578491652021492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m-OTYfHrjkc/TvnMtarhTZI/AAAAAAAAL6s/JZ6ouMqGzh8/s220/17987339389_ppccr.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R5xWKD4dTwI/AAAAAAAABco/v1nDDkvIyeM/s72-c/kids+car.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2981260420971933771.post-835668935061391589</id><published>2008-01-24T07:40:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T13:31:07.779-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grasshopper'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bedtime'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><title type='text'>Jack and Samantha and the Grasshopper</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R5iy1T4dTlI/AAAAAAAABak/z2SKbg2Vwgg/s1600-h/grasshopper.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159070002092789330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R5iy1T4dTlI/AAAAAAAABak/z2SKbg2Vwgg/s400/grasshopper.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;‘Shhhh’ said Jack. ‘It’s over there on that leaf by the wheelbarrow’. Jack and Samantha crept ever so quietly, ever so slowly across the lawn on their hands and knees. The bright green grasshopper just sat there unaware that he was about to become Jacks new pet. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;They got closer and closer and the grasshopper just sat there. Closer and closer then ‘Ouch!’ &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;'Be quiet Samantha’ whispered Jack. I told you not to make a noise’&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘But I hurt my knee on a sharp twig’ hissed Samantha.’ It hurt’. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;‘Don’t be such a girl, said Jack. ‘I knew I should have brought John’ &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;‘I won’t help you if you are horrible to me’ said Samantha with a little tear in her eye. ‘Anyway, boys smell’. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;The grasshopper still sat there. They were only a few feet away now. Closer and closer they went. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;‘Have you got the jar?’ said Jack.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Of course I have’ whispered Samantha sounding a bit cross. ‘And I’ve put some grass in it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack knelt up and made his hands into a cup shape. He shuffled forwards on his green knees, and then very slowly, very VERY slowly, he moved his hands towards the grasshopper and got ready to catch it and take it home. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Six inches away, three inches away, one inch away ...... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Suddenly the grasshopper jumped high up in the air. Nearly as high as the house! It landed on a yellow flower by the shed door. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;‘Grrrrr’ said Jack. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;They crept ever so slowly, ever so quietly across the lawn on their hands and knees towards the yellow flower. The grasshopper just sat there. It made a chirrup sound and Samantha started to giggle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then she flung herself forward and reached out as far as she could to catch the grasshopper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again it jumped high into the sky. Nearly as high as the tree! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;‘Now where is it?’ said Jack.’ I can hear it making that chirrup sound’. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;‘I don’t know’ said Samantha . ‘It was a silly idea anyway’ &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;‘I’ve got a better idea’ said Jack. ‘Let’s go and catch a butterfly! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;‘You can go on your own’ said Samantha.’ I’m going to pick some daisies.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2981260420971933771-835668935061391589?l=keithskids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/feeds/835668935061391589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2981260420971933771&amp;postID=835668935061391589' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/835668935061391589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/835668935061391589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/2008/01/jack-and-samantha-and-grasshopper.html' title='Jack and Samantha and the Grasshopper'/><author><name>keith hillman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13564578491652021492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m-OTYfHrjkc/TvnMtarhTZI/AAAAAAAAL6s/JZ6ouMqGzh8/s220/17987339389_ppccr.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R5iy1T4dTlI/AAAAAAAABak/z2SKbg2Vwgg/s72-c/grasshopper.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2981260420971933771.post-8893335102046221412</id><published>2008-01-20T12:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T13:32:43.415-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='party'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bedtime'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><title type='text'>Jack's birthday party</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;'All together now’ shouted John. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;'Happy birthday to you&lt;br /&gt;Squashed tomatoes and stew&lt;br /&gt;You look like a monkey&lt;br /&gt;And you act like one too!' &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;,,&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157665302791044178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R5O1RDM3vFI/AAAAAAAABY0/HUU3GHdoFbQ/s400/clown-balloon.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Brothers! Who would have one? It was Jacks birthday and twelve of his friends from school were at his house for a party. Thirteen if you include John! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;They had just finished tea. Mummy had made sandwiches- some from egg and cress and some from crunchy peanut butter. They had slices of pizza and little hot dogs. And sugary coloured popcorn, marshmallow on sticks and cones filled with chocolate ice cream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;They were having a wonderful time playing games. Musical chairs was their favourite. They danced round and round and when the music stopped they all dashed to sit on a chair. But there were never enough and the boys pushed and shoved each other until one gave up! Boys will be boys! Then they played pinning the tail on the donkey, followed by a game to see who could be the quietest for longest. That was Daddy’s idea! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Suddenly there was a loud rat-a-tat-tat at the door. Who could that be? Then in walked a huge clown, all dressed in red with enormous red lips and curly red hair. He flung his arms up into the air and down floated zillions of sparkly bits of glitter. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;He did lots of tricks. How they laughed when he pulled a string of sausages from John’s ear and yellow rabbit from a hat which he put on Jacks head! Then he pulled from his pocket loads and loads of balloons. The girls, being girls, blocked their ears as he started blowing them up. Then he started pulling and twisting them which made a horrible squeaking noise. The girls giggled nervously while the boys started shouting ‘bang – bang’. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;In a few minutes the room was filled with balloon shapes. Poodles with blue heads and green legs. Pink daffodils and purple swords. They were everywhere! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Then the clown waved a huge red blanket up and down. He held it way up high with his arms outstretched so that it completely hid him from view. There was a loud bang and a puff of red smoke. The blanket fell to the ground and the clown had disappeared!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;The children just sat there for a minute in complete silence – their mouths open as they tried to work out where the clown had gone!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;. &lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R5O1CzM3vEI/AAAAAAAABYs/Ok6CEyhC-S4/s1600-h/birthday-cake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157665057977908290" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 146px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 128px" height="143" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R5O1CzM3vEI/AAAAAAAABYs/Ok6CEyhC-S4/s200/birthday-cake.jpg" width="156" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;‘Birthday cake, shouted Mummy from the kitchen. The lights went off and in she came, her face lit up by eight little candles. ‘All sing Happy Birthday’ she said. ‘Properly this time!’ &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2981260420971933771-8893335102046221412?l=keithskids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/feeds/8893335102046221412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2981260420971933771&amp;postID=8893335102046221412' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/8893335102046221412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/8893335102046221412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/2008/01/jacks-birthday-party.html' title='Jack&apos;s birthday party'/><author><name>keith hillman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13564578491652021492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m-OTYfHrjkc/TvnMtarhTZI/AAAAAAAAL6s/JZ6ouMqGzh8/s220/17987339389_ppccr.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R5O1RDM3vFI/AAAAAAAABY0/HUU3GHdoFbQ/s72-c/clown-balloon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2981260420971933771.post-2792063963920357633</id><published>2008-01-20T10:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T13:33:55.796-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bedtime'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bicycle'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><title type='text'>Melissas new bicycle</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R5OSJDM3u-I/AAAAAAAABYE/61LneKqHPKA/s1600-h/child+cycle.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157626682445118434" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R5OSJDM3u-I/AAAAAAAABYE/61LneKqHPKA/s400/child+cycle.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Melissa had heaps of birthday presents. And one was very special indeed. It was a pink bicycle. Bright pink with blue wheels, a white saddle and a little shiny silver bell. It had a wheel on a stick either side. Mum called them ‘stiblers’ or something like that, and they would help her stay upright. Today her Mum was going to take her to the park and she was to ride it for the first time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a lovely day. The sun smiled down from the blue sky and the birds watched from the trees as Melissa got ready to pedal off around the lake. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First she needed to put on her pink riding helmet. If she fell off she didn’t want to bump her head. Her Mum popped it on and suddenly Melissa couldn’t see! It came right down over her eyes! So Mum fiddled around with some straps and things, tried it again, and this time it fitted perfectly. So on she got! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘The pedals make it go, and when you want to stop you use this’. Mum said and she pulled up a chrome lever to show Melissa how the brake worked. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off she went- slowly at first with mum holding the saddle and running along behind. This was fun! A rabbit stopped chewing for a moment and sat up. The man mowing the grass stood still and watched her as she went faster and faster leaving Mum behind! Soon she was back to where she started. So she went round again and again and again until it was time to go home. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Melissa went to the park every week for ages. Soon her Dad said she was ready to ride without her stabilisers. So one day he took her for her first ride with just two wheels! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad held on to her as she slowly and carefully started pedalling. Then a little faster, and then a little faster still. And then he let go and let her wobble off down the path on her own. ‘I’m riding Dad, I’m riding’ she shouted. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘Get out of the way’ she called as she wobbled toward a lazy cat. The cat jumped up and ran into the bushes as fast as it could. ‘Mind out’ she yelled as she wobbled straight toward a hedgehog which was wandering slowly across the path. She started giggling. This was fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ring ring went the bell. ‘Look out ‘shouted Melissa as she laughed louder and louder. She was laughing so much that she began to lose her balance and suddenly she found herself right in the middle of a garden full of flowers! But she didn’t hurt herself and a couple of minutes later she was on her way again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So next time you go to the park, look out for Melissa. And if she wobbles towards you, run as fast as you can in the opposite direction! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2981260420971933771-2792063963920357633?l=keithskids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/feeds/2792063963920357633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2981260420971933771&amp;postID=2792063963920357633' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/2792063963920357633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/2792063963920357633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/2008/01/melissa-had-heaps-of-birthday-presents.html' title='Melissas new bicycle'/><author><name>keith hillman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13564578491652021492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m-OTYfHrjkc/TvnMtarhTZI/AAAAAAAAL6s/JZ6ouMqGzh8/s220/17987339389_ppccr.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R5OSJDM3u-I/AAAAAAAABYE/61LneKqHPKA/s72-c/child+cycle.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2981260420971933771.post-8932266819920498706</id><published>2008-01-19T07:37:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T13:35:04.769-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fairy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bedtime'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fairies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='childrens'/><title type='text'>The little pink fairy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R5IaZjM3u6I/AAAAAAAABXk/-9DtKEvLR4U/s1600-h/fairy-0006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157213549540916130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R5IaZjM3u6I/AAAAAAAABXk/-9DtKEvLR4U/s400/fairy-0006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;A picture of innocence. A little pointy pink dress of satin and lace. Wrinkled sparkly white leggings and silver ballet shoes. A garland sits lop-sided on top of a stack of golden hair. Her arms going this way and that as she struggles to put on a pair of translucent wings.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Wriggling from side to side she heaves up her leggings then straightens her headgear. She picks up her wand, adjusts the glittery star on the end, and then she’s ready. There are spells to perform. Happiness to hand out and wishes to fulfil!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Falicia the fairy tip-toes out into fairyland. Thomas the ginger tom casts a wary glance in her direction as she totters across the lawn toward him. He sits unconcerned as she taps him gently on the head with her wand, then bends to stroke his sun-warmed back. Little Freddy pulls a quizzical face as the fairy, who looks very much like his sister, wanders over to his play pen. She reaches into her pocket then scatters a handful of stardust over his head. Freddy cries. Felicia wanders off in search of a more appreciative audience. She was certain that when she grew up she would become a real fairy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157212883820985218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R5IZyzM3u4I/AAAAAAAABXU/6AkxW00xJPs/s200/fairy-0006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Twenty years have passed and Felicia is ‘something in the city’. She is successful. People come to her with their dreams of wealth and she grants their wishes. Her stardust is now share documents. Her fairy land is the bank.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;But in those quiet moments she is still that little pink fairy from her childhood. Those quiet moments when she drifts away and imagines herself flitting from flower to flower in a magic garden. When she sleeps she wears a smile as she swings from a rainbow and plays ring-a-ring-a-roses with the butterflies. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;But she knows it will never be. She tells herself she was stupid to have ever believed it. The kids that teased her were right. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157212570288372594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R5IZgjM3u3I/AAAAAAAABXM/pON5hPurpvc/s200/fairy-0006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;A dragonfly hovered outside her office window. Felicia turned her head, smiled and winked. A dozen pink rose petals floated down from the sky. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2981260420971933771-8932266819920498706?l=keithskids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/feeds/8932266819920498706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2981260420971933771&amp;postID=8932266819920498706' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/8932266819920498706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/8932266819920498706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/2008/01/little-pink-fairy.html' title='The little pink fairy'/><author><name>keith hillman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13564578491652021492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m-OTYfHrjkc/TvnMtarhTZI/AAAAAAAAL6s/JZ6ouMqGzh8/s220/17987339389_ppccr.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R5IaZjM3u6I/AAAAAAAABXk/-9DtKEvLR4U/s72-c/fairy-0006.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2981260420971933771.post-6404035121663046705</id><published>2008-01-19T07:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T13:36:27.335-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bedtime'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='date'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><title type='text'>It was his first date</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R5IWhTM3u1I/AAAAAAAABW8/Ix8nmpGBCKc/s1600-h/smart_boy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157209284638391122" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R5IWhTM3u1I/AAAAAAAABW8/Ix8nmpGBCKc/s200/smart_boy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was so excited! For years he has seen his older sister preening herself before her mirror in preparation for her latest date! Now it was his turn!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was to be his first date. His rite of passage into manhood! Ok, he was only five feet tall and had a chin as smooth as a baby’s bum! But now it was time to put away his Action man and claim his own personal Barbie doll!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What to wear. Now there’s a problem. Until today he put on whatever his Mum chose for him. But today, for the first time in his life, HE was going to decide! Should it be the laid back look with jeans and a tee shirt, or that smart pair of Chinos he had refused to acknowledge when he was given them back in the summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He looked at his hair. It never seemed important until today. He turned his head one way then the other. Should he go get the kitchen scissors and lop off the bit that always stuck up at the back? Sudden horror! That zit! It wasn’t there this morning. Why did it choose today to glow like a beacon on his nose?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He felt sick. His stomach gurgled. He felt giddy. Pull yourself together! Today is the first day of the rest of your life. Your grown up life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He swaggered up the road toward the park. He glanced at his watch. Would she be waiting for him? Would he be first to arrive?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nearly there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He walked over to third bench on the right beside the duck pond. She wasn’t there yet, but then he was a little early. Ten minutes later he was still waiting. But then girls like to keep boys waiting. At least, that’s what his sister told him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sun went down. The playground emptied and the ducks swam back to the island. He sniffed as he tried to stop a tear trickling down his cheek. It was true what they said about girls. He should have listened to his mates. He should have gone with them this evening. They were finishing the camp they were building in the woods. They were having fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had been stood up on his first date.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2981260420971933771-6404035121663046705?l=keithskids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/feeds/6404035121663046705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2981260420971933771&amp;postID=6404035121663046705' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/6404035121663046705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/6404035121663046705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/2008/01/he-was-so-excited-for-years-he-has-seen.html' title='It was his first date'/><author><name>keith hillman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13564578491652021492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m-OTYfHrjkc/TvnMtarhTZI/AAAAAAAAL6s/JZ6ouMqGzh8/s220/17987339389_ppccr.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R5IWhTM3u1I/AAAAAAAABW8/Ix8nmpGBCKc/s72-c/smart_boy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2981260420971933771.post-6579134229830549425</id><published>2008-01-19T06:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T13:37:16.745-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bedtime'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jungle'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='childrens'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='garden'/><title type='text'>Off to the jungle</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R5IPWzM3u0I/AAAAAAAABW0/pt-UqbwC-80/s1600-h/JungleJamboree.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157201407668370242" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R5IPWzM3u0I/AAAAAAAABW0/pt-UqbwC-80/s200/JungleJamboree.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Little Max climbed up onto a stool and reached for the biscuit tin. He felt inside then took out a chocolate covered wafer and another round one covered in hundreds and thousands. He carefully placed them inside a plastic bag and put them in his pocket ready for the journey.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ffff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R4_xhDM3uqI/AAAAAAAABVM/4Vwv5f5kPxI/s1600-h/JungleJamboree.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Max was heading for the jungle.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There were dangerous animals there so he would need a big stick to fend them off. He opened the door of the garden shed and looked around for a something suitable . Some were too long, others to fat. But this one was just perfect. He’d need a hat too. Up in the corner he saw a green cap with a big peak. That would do. He stood on tiptoes, wobbled a bit, and then just managed to knock it off its hook with his stick. It was a bit big but it was better than nothing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He remembered hearing something about rain in forests. He’d need his boots to keep his feet dry. And in case it was hot he’d better take that paper fan that Mummy bought back from Spain last year. And that little torch that lives in the cupboard under the stairs for when the sun goes down.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All he needed now were some fellow travellers. Sophie was a bit too grown up and she always laughed at him when he planned his adventures. But Jack was only five and he would really enjoy himself. So he dragged him away from his Lego train and told him not to tell a soul about the fun to come.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Darrus the Dalmatian would enjoy it too. Max went to get his lead and Darrus started bouncing round in circles because he was so excited.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He wanted one more traveller. Edward the teddy hadn’t been out the house for ages. He would love to come. They were ready for the trek into the jungle.&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Max wasn’t sure which way it was, but it was probably somewhere near the bottom of the garden. There were some trees on the other side of the fence and it always looked dark and mysterious over there. Jack pulled one way, and Darrus another, but Max tugged them down the garden path.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Suddenly Daddy called from the window - ‘Off on one of your jaunts again Max?’&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;‘We are going exploring in the jungle’ Max said.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;,'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;'I thought we would all go to play on the swings and get an ice cream’ said Daddy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Suddenly all thoughts of a trip to the jungle were forgotten!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2981260420971933771-6579134229830549425?l=keithskids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/feeds/6579134229830549425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2981260420971933771&amp;postID=6579134229830549425' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/6579134229830549425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/6579134229830549425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/2008/01/off-to-jungle.html' title='Off to the jungle'/><author><name>keith hillman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13564578491652021492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m-OTYfHrjkc/TvnMtarhTZI/AAAAAAAAL6s/JZ6ouMqGzh8/s220/17987339389_ppccr.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R5IPWzM3u0I/AAAAAAAABW0/pt-UqbwC-80/s72-c/JungleJamboree.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2981260420971933771.post-4373144846097951281</id><published>2008-01-19T02:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T13:38:22.532-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pirates'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bedtime'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pirate'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><title type='text'>Pirates</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R5HNIjM3uyI/AAAAAAAABWk/8JOoxINrnsw/s1600-h/Milwaukee-pirates.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157128595087801122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R5HNIjM3uyI/AAAAAAAABWk/8JOoxINrnsw/s200/Milwaukee-pirates.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;. .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;‘Let’s play pirates’ said John to Jack &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;‘Let’s pretend the garden's an island. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Let’s look for treasure, there’s bound to be some.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Let’s get a spade and a sack’&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;'Twelve steps forward and two steps right. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Look for a bush and hide'. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;‘We have to be quiet,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;don’t make a noise.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Look out for something that's bright’.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;‘Watch out - a tiger’ says Jack to John&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Cat stops and stares then walks off &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;‘I see a parrot there in the hedge’&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A gull flapped its wings and was gone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Crawling round on their hands and their knees &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;They look for a probable spot&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;‘This is the place&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I know that it is’&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Hidden by bushes and trees.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;They made a big hole, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and burrowed and dug &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And pulled out the stuff that they found. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Rusty old nails, a bit of a plate&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A handle that fell off a mug.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;‘When dad sees this mess &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;he won’t be pleased.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He’ll make us walk the plank.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;‘cos yesterday he planted seeds &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and now we’ve dug them up!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2981260420971933771-4373144846097951281?l=keithskids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/feeds/4373144846097951281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2981260420971933771&amp;postID=4373144846097951281' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/4373144846097951281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/4373144846097951281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/2008/01/pirates.html' title='Pirates'/><author><name>keith hillman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13564578491652021492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m-OTYfHrjkc/TvnMtarhTZI/AAAAAAAAL6s/JZ6ouMqGzh8/s220/17987339389_ppccr.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R5HNIjM3uyI/AAAAAAAABWk/8JOoxINrnsw/s72-c/Milwaukee-pirates.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2981260420971933771.post-5720045355444113350</id><published>2008-01-18T16:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T13:39:32.723-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bedtime'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mermaid'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='girls'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mermaids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><title type='text'>The little mermaid</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R5FI-DM3uxI/AAAAAAAABWU/vOY0e8bv3m4/s1600-h/mermaid+icon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156983279164308242" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R5FI-DM3uxI/AAAAAAAABWU/vOY0e8bv3m4/s200/mermaid+icon.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The mid day sun glistened on the sea. A dazzling display of diamonds sparkling atop ripples rolling into a golden sandy cove. Just off the shore an occasional glimpse of a mermaid. Gliding effortlessly through her world of water, queen of all she surveyed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Turning on to her back she raised her outstretched arms toward the sky and in her hands she balanced her mermaid child. A tiny fragile creature setting out on a life among the people of the ocean. Princesse de la Mer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;‘Go my child’ said the mermaid. ‘Take your place beneath the waves. You are the chosen one. Your people are waiting for you’. ‘Where shall I go’ she asked. ‘Over the horizon’ her Mother said. ‘How will I know when I am there?’ said the child. ‘You will know little one. You will know’&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And with that she was gone. She glanced back over her shoulder to wave goodbye,but saw no one. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She was alone. All alo&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R4AD7TM3t7I/AAAAAAAABPM/zv_1vL81VJc/s1600-h/mermaid+icon.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ne. &lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R4AHPjM3uAI/AAAAAAAABP0/v6J9wx6AvTU/s1600-h/mermaid+icon.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;She swam among a rainbow of fishes, through forests of corals and above deep dark places that made her shiver. But the horizon came no closer. Her Mothers words kept coming back to her. ‘Over the horizon’&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;‘How far is the horizon?’ she asked a dolphin. ‘As far as you can see and farther’ he said.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Which way is the horizon?’ she asked a starfish. ‘That way child’ he said pointing in every direction. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;‘How long will it take?’ she asked an oyster. ‘How long is a string of pearls?’ came back the reply.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;‘I’m tired, may I ride on your back?’ she asked a sea horse. ‘No young one’ he said. ‘I can play no part in your journey’.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Suddenly all around her glowed brightly. Everywhere were exotic flowers of every colour snaking toward the daylight above. . Carpets of coral put on a display of brilliant lights, and before her was a towering rock of silver and gold, embedded with flashing jewels.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A voice came from nowhere. ‘A deep soft comfortable voice. ‘Your journey is over Princesse de la Mer. Join your people’ And with that, a hundred little mermaids swam toward her from every direction. They formed a circle around her and swam and frolicked and laughed with joy. They formed a nest of arms and gently lif&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R4AEITM3t8I/AAAAAAAABPU/aJCGH68SEaE/s1600-h/mermaid+icon.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ted her higher and higher until she found herself above the waves. No longer could she see the horizon. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The sky formed a giant dome above and around her, and it was filled with birds, butterflies and fragrant aromas. She had arrived in paradise.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;‘Take your place upon the rock’ said the voice.‘The rock over the horizon. The place where you belong'. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;. . &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2981260420971933771-5720045355444113350?l=keithskids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/feeds/5720045355444113350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2981260420971933771&amp;postID=5720045355444113350' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/5720045355444113350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2981260420971933771/posts/default/5720045355444113350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keithskids.blogspot.com/2008/01/little-mermaid.html' title='The little mermaid'/><author><name>keith hillman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13564578491652021492</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='29' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m-OTYfHrjkc/TvnMtarhTZI/AAAAAAAAL6s/JZ6ouMqGzh8/s220/17987339389_ppccr.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_dWAujebi-V4/R5FI-DM3uxI/AAAAAAAABWU/vOY0e8bv3m4/s72-c/mermaid+icon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
