My Sister (a poem by my brother)

7 02 2010

I asked my 8 year old brother to write me a poem to put in my room. When he finished he said “That’s the first poem I ever wrote” and he’s been grinning since.

There once was a girl called Chloe

She hated it being snowy

She likes to sing in the bath

While we all have a laugh

She never shuts up

She always shouts at us

But she is very clever

And she is a nerd.


Skating to school

8 01 2010

Two days ago we got snow here, around 5cm, it was lovely. I went out to see it all and got pelted with snowballs by at least 5 excited kids. We got 2 days off school but we’re going back tomorrow. See, the snow froze overnight, didn’t melt and is now deadly. It’s going to be a whole lot of fun I’m sure, walking a mile to school tomorrow. Lame, right?

My shoes have absolutely no grip, and I have PE.

I also have a hell of a load of homework to do.

Anyway, being in the snow made me realize a  few things:

  • Everything looks better in the snow. People have bright red noses and chattering teeth but they look more beautiful than you’ve seen them in a long while.
  • Adults can actually have fun with kids. So many kids forced their parents off the sofa to help them roll that snowball that was getting heavy and give their man a head. Okay, a couple of parents just used their kids to help get their mates house messy, but it was nice to see everyone smiling.
  • That was the first time I’ve been out like that for months. I saw a load of people I don’t know, and I threw snowballs at strangers. It was amazingly fun.

That’s what snow does to people. It makes them forget about the bills they’re trying to pay off or the homework a week overdue. When you make snow angels with your little brother and take 50 pictures of yourself doing so, it’s kind of magical. I’m glad the stuff is rare here. At least when I fall over and break my neck tomorrow, I’ll have a fair few photo albums to look through in hospital.

Wreck the halls.

19 12 2009

Oh dear, this place is a mess. I’m ashamed, really. Just another teenager left home alone who doesn’t tidy up behind herself and forgets to do chores because she’s busy watching old episodes of Fringe. I bloody love Fringe.

My mother is in hospital again, she’s just had her ovaries taken out and should be home tomorrow. Gran’s been offering to come up and stay, but there’s no way I’m letting her see my room. The shambles that it is. I’ll get the place tidied before mum gets back tomorrow. At least, I’ll think about it. It’s the thought that counts.

The dog’s not eating anything. It’s scary.

Also, how many days until Christmas day now? Eight? Nine? SIX?! I still haven’t bought any presents, and forget about your cards. I’ve been meaning to, but with mum in hospital it just hasn’t happened. The three younger brothers are semi-behaving, which is progress. “You’re not our mum.” is the most commonly used phrase in our house at the moment. No surprise there.

I should get a poem up on here soon, I just have to write one that I like first. Tougher than you think.

My mother is drunk.

11 12 2009

And is singing “What should we do with the drunken sailor” over and over. It’s quite funny really, if you look past the embarrassment.

She’s also almost poked me in the eye 4 times due to random outbursts about how stupid she thinks various things are. Like the school getting my brothers’ names the wrong way round on one of those little accident forms.

My birthday on Monday!

Schedule for the weekend:

  • Saturday morning – shopping for brothers birthday present and friends birthday present. Both late, of course.
  • Saturday evening – Friends birthday meal. Eating Spaghetti Carbonara or something like that. It’s supposed to be nice.
  • Saturday night – X Factor final, what else?
  • Sunday morning – Christmas shopping with the hopefully sober mother. MUST BUY GUITAR FOR 5 YEAR OLD BROTHER OR BE FOREVER BRANDED WORST SISTER IN THE WORLD.
  • Sunday evening – Wrapping the Christmas presents and complaining about how little money I have left.
  • Sunday night – Homework. (This probably won’t get done)

And amongst that I’ll sneak in some reading and a little bit of writing. Left two poems down Gran’s house so you don’t get to see them, you lucky people. I do love her cat though.

I love my cat.

She’s one of those yeah, a quick scratch behind the ear and then be gone, peasant types. So today it was a big surprise that she let me pet her for nearly an hour. I had a nap in that time as well. Really, I think she was cold (I need a heater). Petting cats is so relaxing.

Oh, that’s a point; my Gran’s teaching me how to knit.

It’s exciting.

I start out with 30 stitches and end up with 43.


I’ll post on this thing more.

Peace out for now, sweethearts,