Marissa's Story Post

Marissa said she wanted to post a story on my blog, and she has been working on it quite diligently, so here it is. Some of the fonts didn't carrry over from MS Word so she is a bit sad about that. That's what happened to the area with the alphabet - the monotype sorts font didn't work and this less than computer literate mother didn't have any idea how to fix that. She does good work, doesn't she? Making her momma proud.

My
Really
Confusing
Life.
BOOK ONE: ADVENTURE
By Marissa Beaty and partly by Abby Rockhill.
Dedicated to my friends and family for being so good to me.



CHAPTER ONE: THE COMPETITION

“Do you think it’s nice?” I asked my mom.
“Lovely.” She said. I was on way to being an all-star ice skater! Or that’s at least what my dad says. I’m Jennifer Joy McLatchen. That’s my full name. Anyways… wait? Where was I? Hmmm… Let’s see. “Do you think it’s nice?” I asked my mom. “Lovely.” she said. I was on my way to being an all-… Oh, yea! So, just then my brother Clyde came in my room. “I just wanted to remind you…” he said, “That It’s my turn to wash the dishes tonight.” I finished. “Dang!” Clyde said. I walked out of the room. Clyde followed me and said, “How do you always remember stuff with this…”
he put my fists together. “small of a brain?”
I told him in an I’ll-get-you-back-voice, “It’s just the way I do things.” Clyde rolled his eyes and ran out to the car. “Come on slow poke!” he said. I rolled my eyes at him like he did to me. Like all brothers, this one was REALLY annoying.

“And now here comes Jennifer Mc… Mc…”
“Latchen!!!” My mom yelled. “And here comes Jennifer McLatchen!”
said the announcer, trying again. The crowd clapped like crazy! I came out, but the music did not come. I was so confused I fell flat on my butt! Wait, let me try that again. I fell flat on my gjaghfjkah! Ha! You see, I replaced the bathroom word with gjaghfjkah! Anyway, the speaker said “Ah, folks we have a little problem here. Please stay calm.” But somebody shouted out “Hey the skater!? What’s she doin’ laying down there on the ice!?” Everyone looked at me.

First thing I knew my mom and dad and Clyde were racing on the ice. Soon, everyone was on the ice. Even some news reporters. LOTS more people came to see me. Finally, I got up. “What’s the matter?” everyone said, just not at the same time. (I think you knew that already.) Even the ambulance came. Before I knew it I was checked all over by a doctor. “She hurt her…” the doctor patted an assistant’s gjaghfjkah. “Real bad.” The doctor said. “But just a few days of rest here. Than her gjaghfjkah will get better.” My Mom, Dad, and Clyde nodded there heads.


CHAPTER TWO: THE PLACE
I was reading my fourth book that I had.
It was a fairytale book. Although I didn’t read fairytales usually, I just HAD to read it. The art was so good! I was on the chapter Cinderella when I whispered to myself, “Wow. If I really lived in this book, there would be no embarrassment in your LIFE. I wish I lived there.” Then, the doctor’s desk turned into a gate with vines on it!
Suddenly. It all came together. I was in fairytale land. I’m sorry. But, I have to say this. WHOA! HOLD THE PHONE HERE PEOPLE!
I couldn’t believe it! My gjaghfjkah didn’t hurt anymore! Now, I KNEW I was in fairytale land.
As if you have guessed this already, you probably have found by reading that this is the place. WELL, HERE’S ONE THING: YOU GUESSED RIGHT! So anyways, what do you thing I did? Well, I walked around and then, a girl with a rag dress came running past me. I knew it was Cinderella.

CHAPTER THREE: HELP!
I ran after her. I ran as fast as I could. Soon, I came to a house. Cinderella’s house. The cat, oh… uh… what’s his name again? Well, I will just call him… Fluffy! O.K! Fluffy was making all of these weird sounds and noises, I didn’t know what to do. The door opened. It was her. Cinderella.

or should I say Uh…Oh great!

“Who… who are you?” Cinderella asked. “I’m Jennifer Joy McLatchen.” I said. “A…a, come in.” said Cinderella. “What are you doing here?” Cinderella asked when I was inside. “I really don’t know.” I said, looking around. “I can ask my friends for help.” Cinderella said. “Who are they?” I asked. “Snow White and sometimes, when someone isn’t reading us, Sleeping Beauty.” “O.K.” I said. “Where do they live?” I said. “Go straight through the woods and sometime, you’ll meet a village.” Said Cinderella. “Thanks.” I was on my way.

My face was filled with happiness. I was at the village. I asked somebody, “Does Snow White live here?” “Yes. Over the hills of the forest. And if you’re new to the village, some said she died because of the evil witch.” Suddenly, an evil laugh sprang up like a spring. Something grabbed me. I turned around to see who it was. It was the evil witch. She was staring right at me.


CHAPTER FOUR: THE DUNGUEON

“So… you want to save Snow White? Never. Never ever.” She looked at me for a second.
“Wait. You’re not the prince. Who are you?” “I’m Jennifer.” I said. “Well, Jennifer. How glad to meet you. NOT!” she said. (She was REALLY stupid.) I looked at her, confused. “Don’t look at me that way!” said the witch. (I was out of my mind when I did this.) I said, “You’re stupid.” And boy did she get furious! She yelled, right in my ears, “TO THE DUNGEUON YOU TWIT!” Then, a guard took me and tied my hands behind my back. Then he carried me away to the dungeon.

It was creepy. It was weird. It had ponies and rainbows painted on the wall. It was the brightest thing I ever saw. There were lots of wooden doors. The guard carried me into a wooden door. Ponies and rainbows were painted on the walls, too. The guard put me down. He went through the door and locked it. I huddled myself into a little ball and cried. I would probably never get home.


I was asleep when I heard a noise. A guard opened the door. He said, “The queen has found the stupid twit is a use of a slave.” He put this pole with a circle around my neck. He walked me over to the queen. The queen said, “For now, polish my nails, clean the kitchen and scrub the Grand Hall.” I went to work without saying a word.



CHAPTER FOUR: THE WAY
I was scrubbing the Grand Hall. “Psst! Over here!” Someone called. I quick turned around. It was Cinderella. “Let’s get out of here!” I nodded my head. We climbed out of a window in the Grand Hall. We were suddenly in another room. “What is this place?” I asked. “It’s a booby trap.” Cinderella said. I shivered. Then, while Cinderella was peeking around, I noticed there was some writing on the walls. It said, if You want ever figure this out, you will be free of the evil queen. “Hey. Check it out!” I said. Cinderella looked in my direction.
Cinderella’s mouth plopped open. “I know this handwriting!” she said. She took out a small book. It was titled, The Art of Monotype Sorts.
She flipped a few pages. There was a code. It said,
A=a
B=b
C=c
D=d
E=e
F=f
G=g
H=h
I=i
J=j
K=k
L=l
M=M
N=n
O=o
P=P
Q=Q
R=R
S=S
T=t
U=u
V=V
W=w
X=X
Y=Y
Z=Z

The whole alphabet. “Perfect.” I whispered.
“I figured it out!” said Cinderella. “If you
want…” The walls began to shake. Suddenly, the walls just disappeared. We were out of the booby trap.



CHAPTER FIVE: HOME
I asked while we were running though the woods I asked, “How do I get home?”
“I wish I could help, but I don’t know what to do.” Cinderella said. We were at Cinderella’s house. There was a carriage at the house. Cinderella’s face brightened. “Wait here.” She said. “WHAT?!” I said, confused. “Follow the carriage! Not me! Trust me!” she shouted.

The carriage moved slowly with Cinderella in it. Finally, the carriage and I
were there at the castle. The prince came running out of the palace. “I knew it was you!” he said to Cinderella. “If you don’t mind,” said Cinderella. “There is a girl who needs your help.” She signaled me to come. I tried to walk slowly and gracefully up to the prince. But that all changed when I tripped and fell.
I said, “I was wrong. There is embarrassment
in fairytale land.” The prince and Cinderella laughed. “So… what was your question?”
asked the prince. “Well, you see,” I said. “I was reading you’re story and I wished to be here.” “And…” said the prince. “And I just was here at that moment. My question is, How do I get out of here?” “Ah. I see.” Just then, the prince’s mouth popped open. “THE LIGHT BULB!” he said. “I am Tomas Edison!” said the prince. “You’re a train?” I asked.


“O.K.! Here it is! The light bulb!”
Cinderella and I clapped.
“With this invention you will be returned to your home!” said the prince.


CHAPTER SIX: THE THING
“Now, I shall put these things together!”
said the prince. We had gathered everything we needed to get me home. “I’m going home.” I said.

“Done yet?” I asked after the twentieth hour that the prince was working on it. “No.” he said. “It’s been forever!” I complained. “I’m done!” said the prince. “Good.” I said. “I’m really going to miss you guys.” I said. “You can come back here anytime.” said Cinderella.
“Step on this platform.” said the prince.
“Bye! Bye!” I shouted. “Thank you!”

CHAPTER SEVEN: THE END
I was in my hospital bed. The doctor’s desk wasn’t a gate with vines on it. My gjaghfjkah didn’t hurt as much since last time. I smiled.
I was home. Clyde came running into my room with the doctor. “You can go home with us now!” said Clyde. I felt my face brighten. Then I turned to the doctor. I held up the fairytale book. “Is it O.K. if I keep this?” I asked. “Yea. That’s fine. We have about three-hundred more copies of it here.” said the doctor. I turned to Clyde. “Shall we go?” I asked. “We shall go.” said Clyde.

THE END!





“Hi. I’m Jennifer Joy McLatchen.
Have you ever met Cinderella and her prince? Have you ever gotten captured by the evil queen in Snow White? Have you ever had to be a servant for about… say five minutes? Well, to tell you the truth, I HAVE. I would have said “Yes” to all those questions.

Hi. I’m Marissa Beaty. I’m the author of this book. I wrote a book one, book two, and coming soon a book three. If you like this one, well, call me if you can!(NOT!)

THUNDER SNOW

This morning we woke up to the weird weather phenomenon of what these NW Iowa weatherpeople like to dub THUNDER SNOW. The radio, the TV, even the Captain (those flying types really get into the weird weather phenomenon) they were all loving the THUNDER SNOW. A bit dramatic don't you think? But, I guess there is no other way to describe it. Partly thundery/partly snowy? Snowy with scattered lightning? Looked it up on Wiki and it is the real deal. They even have a little diagram about it.



The weather here in Iowa often makes an awkward transition to spring, and that is just how it felt this morning. Seven AM or so and we heard our first peal of thunder. Hmm, was that really what I think it was? Flash of lightning later, followed by another boomer - yep I guess so. Immediately thought of green grass, smell of rain, tulips, POD marching band practice, and all that other good spring stuff. But, looked out the window only to see a driveway covered with sleet and ice and a bit of THUNDER SNOW. Decidedly awkward.



We now have blowing and drifting THUNDER SNOW. Actually the thunder is long gone, but some of the snow that fell while it was thundering is still blowing around. So that would count as THUNDER SNOW in my humble non-weatherperson-just-a-nurse opinion. Of course, now there is just plain snow added to the THUNDER SNOW. It is having a hard time living up to the hype of the THUNDER SNOW. I feel sorry for the plain snow.



SOOOOO, as an IA Pilot Wife, who is desperately wishing, hoping, praying, for Spring, I have had to lower my expectations once again. I will say I do have an absolutely lovely, mesmerizing, unbelievably hot fire in the fireplace right now. I am in love. Take that THUNDER SNOW.

Bald IS Beautiful...

I briefly mentioned painting bathrooms in my last post. Usually means a small space, with lots of cutting in (doors and windows and vanities and such) and requires getting up close and personal with a toilet. I really hate trying to paint behind a toilet.

I did do some bathroom painting this weekend and had the distinct privilege of getting up close and personal with Mom and Dad's toilet. The Captain helped with a large portion of that - thanks honey. There is a weird part of me that actually enjoys painting. I find it therapeutic to some extent. The old has gone, the new has come. Through many remodels and house projects, I have gotten to be pretty adept at painting. Painting at my parents house left me a little nostalgic though.

The reason we were painting is because my parents have recently redone their bathroom. They removed a small cramped tub/shower unit and replaced it with a large shower unit. My dad with his Parkinson's disease was having a harder and more difficult time getting his leg over the side of the tub and his shower chair never fit very well into that small tub they had. So, this should work much better. No door, just a small lip to step over and mom can help him much more easily without hurting her back. All good.

Somewhere between cutting in around the new shower and the baseboards, I started getting pretty sad. I remembered my dad helping us do various odds and ends when we moved into our first home in Tulsa. He helped me paint that bright red accent wall in our hallway that I just loved. He was a good painter. Very particular, very detailed as is his nature. Over the years, as Parkinson's has taken its toll, he does less and less in the home improvement projects, and that's OK. I know he would love to help, but just can't. He sat in his lift chair and offered words of encouragement from the living room, or he would shuffle over with his walker to let me know if I missed a spot - He really liked that part. : )

MOM: (peeking in the door) Shannon, are you OK?

SHANNON: (sniffle sniffle - turning away and paying meticulous attention to the cutting in above the shower) "Yep, must be getting a cold - or else this paint is getting to me...I'm fine."

But sometimes I'm not. I get jealous of other grandpa's doing things with their grandchildren that my dad never will. Will my girls ever know what a goofball my dad used to be? He had this crazy comb-over when I was a young girl and he used to let me fix it with foam rollers. And he used to drive around in his old powder blue Ford pick-up with his "Bald IS Beautiful" bumper sticker, and people would honk and wave whenever we went into town because everyone recognized that crazy blue truck. Did you know he once put baby mice in the pocket of my coat to "go show your mother", and that he bought me a pony - my very own pony? Did you know he could fix anything - REALLY. Did you know that in the summer he would get dark as an Indian in the Iowa sun, and that his corn fields really were the straightest and weedless long before all the fancy equipment and round-up ready corn? Did you know he liked to play golf and once shot a hole in one?

I try to tell them these things and show them too. I am grateful for the chance to live as close to them as we do. To help paint bathrooms of course, but also to give my girls some memories in what feels like a limited amount of time some days. Every once in awhile I see my real dad come out. Like when he had Maren convinced that if she tapped him on the head three times - that would make his teeth pop out (he has dentures). It was very cute when I saw her standing up on her stool that night looking in the bathroom mirror, hitting herself on the head, really hoping her teeth might pop out too.

I also remember last fall when mom had surgery and was on a five pound weight restriction, my brothers and I took turns staying over at night in case Dad needed some help. Once his last Sinemet wears off - he is as stiff as a board and can't get up on his own during the night. I had just gotten him settled to bed, and was about asleep when he called - "Shannon...need some help." I sleepily walked in his room and he had his blankets pulled up to his chin and I could barely make out his blue eyes twinkling in the nightlight, but then he said - "Just kidding"- with the tiniest little grin on his face.

Hope you like the new paint job in the bathroom Dad, you taught me everything I know.

HTML What?

I am tired today. I stayed up entirely too late trying to change this silly template. I probably should have left well enough alone, but for me part of the appeal of having a blog is the ability to change the template ...frequently. I am one of those furniture rearranging types. Gotta have something different. Gotta keep the hum in my drum. Figured changing the blogger template would be much less strenuous and yet ease my desire for something new and different.

So I found this happy green - heaven knows we could use a little green around here- template that the Captain says is a bit overmuchly green over at Leelou Blogs. The last time I downloaded a new template, it worked like a charm. This time was a different story, kept getting these BX something or other errors with everything I tried. Finally got that figured out, then decided I missed my three column template, so found a site that showed you how to edit your HTML to add a third column. So I hope the gals over at LeeLou don't mind that I did some rearranging on their free template. This all came to a close at about 1:30 AM. Did I really think this would be easier than rearranging furniture? HMM...




It got me thinking though about how computers have really changed everything. I remember typing up my college paper with a basic word processing program and thinking that was cutting edge. Now the internet - what piece of information can NOT be found on the internet. It boggles my mind! And this blogging and HTML stuff. How does that gibberish get translated to something with meaning and often times with blogs - pretty darn cute meaning? Then I start to think of my Grandma's generation and the incredible changes they have experienced in their lifetime. Going from (in?) outhouses and farming with horses to this computer generated day and age has to be a bit daunting. And what will the M's see in their lifetime? Amazing.

I do want to keep learning though. I am not the most computer literate in the whole world, but I do want to stay in touch and especially keep up with the kiddos. I feel like Maren already knows more about the Wii than I do. And Marissa - she takes a keyboarding class at school and already knows how to do so many things that I feel I have just figured out in the last few years or so.


Now there is blogging and facebook and itunes and free playlists and it all just is really quite enjoyable. I secretly did have a lot of fun editing the HTML - frustrating as it was. Sort of like painting the bathroom. What a pain, but how fun are the results. Ahh, the little things that make me happy.

P.S. See, Captain, see how the bright lime green matches the bright green in Marissa's new SpongeBob robe her very talented seamstress Grandma made her? All part of the greater plan, honey. Your mom and I had it all figured out! Just leave it all to us.

Nosepicking Revisited

I was going to save this little "booger" for a later date, but seems like the nosepickers are out and about, so we will just go with it. I tried to make it a little less garish by editing it with a nice sepia tone. Does it work for you?

If you are interested in seeing more of the gold diggin', then click here and maybe you could win a t-shirt and then click here and laugh your head off at the juice bag recordings. Seems Baloney's Micheal has it right. Nosepicking really is the greatest symbol of life.