We’re not even half way through summer vacation and I’ve heard the words “I’m bored” so many times already. We go to the library every week and get books. We go walking in the park. We do crafts. And we still have our vacation to take in 2 weeks. But they can’t help it. So a few years ago, I started the kids on a summer writing project. I’d give them a subject and they had to write. I was looking through their journals the other day and I came across one of my favorite stories from the kids. All spelling, grammar and punctuation errors are intentional.
If I was a sqairl I would climb a lot with other sqarls. I would race each other up trees. I would run a way from cats when they chase me. I would run into the woods with the other sqairls. The End.
A day in the life of a squirle
One morning I woke up in a tree. I looked like a squirle. I was so fusy. Then I went to looke for some food. I found pecans, peanuts, walnuts and acorns and saved the rest for later. Then I went off to explore I found nuts, berries and more trees. The just when I was about to head home I found a house with the smell of pie coming out of it so I went to the window but before I could make it I saw a cat. It pounced and caught my tail. Eventually I could see no more. The end.
As the sun rose, and the birds sang. Chatter the squirrel the squirrel woke up. As he got up and yawned he went ans got three acorns from the pile for breakfast. As he munched on his breakfast his best friend Wackel popped up. “Hey Wackel” I said through a mouthful of acorns. “Hey Chatter!” Wackel said energetically. “wanna go outside and play tag with Frunk?” “yeah sure” I said. As I ran by him I said “your it!” And tagged him playfully. As I ran to find Frunk I saw one of the orange tabby cats. I yelled to Frunk and Wackel “let’s play with the tabby!” As we grabbed some vines the orange tabby was walking to the porch. Wackel threw an acorn at the tabby and hit him right on hiss butt. He jumped up and squealed in pain. He started running straight toward Wackel. Just before he got to Wackel, Wackel jumped up and pulled the vine and bounced upward. The confused cat ran straight into the fence. We all burst into laughter at the foolishness of the cat. As it slid away in defeat we all jeering at it. “What’s the matter cat, dog got your tail?” All the sudden we found ourselves in the dark. “Darn, I can’t see anymore, well I guess it’s bedtime, Night guys!” As I went to my tree I thought how fun a day it was. The end.
Kids just don’t write anymore, not creative writing. I’m glad I have my kids do this every now and then. It doesn’t matter that the grammar and punctuation may be terrible or that they spelled words wrong. Heck, before spell check most of us had spelling errors and just didn’t realize it. They took some time and used their imaginations to create a story. And someday, when they have kids of their own, I’ll give them these journals so they can pass on something personal, not a computer printed paper written for school but a handwritten, book of thoughts and stories.
So Grace and I made these cookies for her Bake Sale and they were a huge hit, in fact they’ve been requested again so I’ll keep them in the rotation.