What is Summer?

Summer is a warm evening
Summer is laughing
Summer is ice cream
Summer is lie-ins
Summer is late nights
Summer is light flooding through every window
Summer is the longest season
Summer is the carefree attitude
Summer is no longer worried about studying
Summer is photography
Summer is exploration
Summer is friends
Summer is family
Summer is shorts and a tank top
Summer is laziness
Summer is Summer,
and Summer I love

P.S The next thing on my summer list that I did was:
Go to the City, where I got a few books.
 

A Study in Paper Men...

If I've learnt nothing in life so far, I know that no two things are the same, nor will they ever be. If you and your best friend wear the same hairstyle everyday, or if you wear a uniform, or if you and your brother or sister look near identical, you are not the same.

The thing is, you'll never be the same as someone else. You may learn the same things {see History and Geography flash-cards for upcoming tests!} as them, but one will be smarter than the other, or have a better memory. Even a string of friends don't always get along perfectly.

Take these two paper men {yes, they are attached to the others, but just bare with me} for example. They, like all the others, were cut from the same piece of folded paper, and were cut from the same pattern. But what to you notice? They're flipped around {well, one of them}, for one, but their heads are slightly different and one of the man on the left's legs is longer than the opposite on the man on the right.

They were cut from the same piece of paper. They were cut with the same pattern. Yet they are different.

Maeve

NaNoEatMore

Afternoon :) That title made very little sense, but basically it's my life. As of today. NaNoWriMo and Cooking.

001 Nanowrimo has started! I'm excited, but I'm scared at the same time. I have my novel almost planned out. There's just one more thing to decide on, and then I can really get into the swing of novel. As of now I can tell you that my novel is about a French girl who moved to Ireland. Eventually it comes to be that she discovers Irish dancing and the story really gets strong there. Of course I'll love to write a really intense, gripping novel but I think I want to start more simply first. The style of writing is inspired by Michael Morpurgo and the American Girl Books. I hope it all goes well! I have 4,000 words or so written. 10% done!

002 'Eat More' well... it just sounded good. But basically I've taken up baking and am really enjoying it! Homemade bickies and cakes feel much more healthy to eat that stuff from the local. I do therefore have some recipes to share {an especially delicious one will be coming closer to Christmas} and well... yeah!

003 I've made a few great friends over the last few weeks. I like it because in the past I used only to have 1 best friend but now I'm in a group of people where it's no 'best friends', just everyone is best friends with everyone! I'm going over to one of my friend's houses tomorrow. So. Excited.

004 I need a new blog design. I'll hunt around for something suitable. Though I'm desperately searching for giveaways because they're the best. I do have an old design from Hannah, but I've misslayed the background, so I need something else until I find it!

005 My blog is evolving. Not really. But the things I post about, especially this month {then Christmas the next} and continuing on in January will be Cooking and Writing. Also some likes and things, if my request for a pintrest is granted soon! So yeah. If anyone isn't extremely pleased with this descision, could you please comment to let me know? I only want to make my readers happy!

Flap-Jacks

Just a little recipe from me to you. :) I make these a lot and they taste really nice!

175g of Porridge oats
1 Tablespoon of Golden Syrup
75g of Butter {or Margarine}
50-75g of Brown Sugar {The past two times I've made it, I used Caster Sugar and it tastes just as nice!}

1. Turn the oven on at 180 Celcius/350F/Gas mark 4
2. Put the Butter, sugar and golden syrup into a saucepan and stir over a low heat until ingredients have melted. {Alternatively, you can put the butter, sugar and golden syrup into the microwave and melt until the butter is liquid, then stir everything in. Tastes just as good, and easier}
3. Add the porridge oats and stir in thoroughly until the oats are completely coated in the mixture.
4. Press into a well greased tin. Do not cut at this stage.
5. Leave in for max 25 minutes. Depending on your oven, they could even be ready fifteen minutes after they've been put in. In otherwords, check regularly.
6. Once they are a golden-brown colour, you can take them out of the oven, and cut into strips/squares. Then leave to cool.
7. Enjoy!

 

Nine Eleven.

For English class two days ago {Friday} we had to write a 'fake' account of 9/11 through the eyes of a New Yorker. I haven't {obviously} handed mine in yet, so I'm not going to post the whole thing, but I'll like to offer you a few paragraphs to acknowledge this awful day.


I was there, laughing and pointing to the sky. 
 "What's the plane doing?" I asked as I tugged at my mother's sleeve. She was too engaged in her work to hear or notice me. My giggles turned silent and my eyes grew wide with fear as the first scream sounded from not so far away. 
 "What's ha-" I began, but my mother lifted {more like grabbed} my five-year-old-self off the floor and ran over to the door.
 She swore under her breath. The door was locked. She always kept it locked during the day as she hated it when her co-workers came in when she was trying to work.
  She fumbled with her keys; they all looked much the same.
  When she finally had the right key in, she pushed the door open and ran out into the corridor.
  Books pens, papers and more were left on the floor where people had abandoned their things and fled. My mother tried to dodge these and make it through the corridor - but it was a difficult task with me - literally - on her back.
 A huge tremor shook the building. Dust from the ceiling showered us. More screams. I could hear sirens now. 
 Lots, and lots of sirens. 




So, of course that isn't all of it. So, once I hand the essay/story in, would you like me to post the rest? I kind of like how it's going, and am thinking of making a mini-novel of it. A lot of editing is required though. Anyway.
 I find it hard to believe I was alive back then. That ten years ago, I was just a little kid throwing teddies around the room whilst others grieved and disaster struck. Whilst George Bush stood there with a blank expression on his face. America is under attack. I laughed, and played with my sister. I know, 9/11 is so talked about; some even say it's 'over-rated' but it's kind of hard to get your head around. How did these people commit such a crime?
 I will never know.


Keep Safe
      Maeve