Marbled White Butterfly

This is a Marbled White butterfly I found on a Greater Knapweed at Prairie de la Fa at 1000 m altitude.

Poem:

A butterfly is flying,
Up, not low,
It settles on a flower,
Down below.
It's smells with its antennae
And it starts to grow.

One time when I was in England, not very long ago, I went on a dragon boat with my grandma. My grandma is very nice and she's very clever too. We were pedalling away, under the bridge and in circles. We saw some Canada Geese.

Poem

Me on a boat,
Thinking if I'd like to vote.
I decided to talk about some strange book,
That I took
From my Dad who was fishing with a hook,
And the hook that my Dad was fishing with
Got took!

Deers are cute

I found three deers. Those deers were very cute. When my Mummy was just going to start practising her piano practise, I hopped to the window, and I found a deer. I thought that they looked very pretty.

A poem about a little deer (and everything else)

Dominos, deers, stuff like that
Are very pretty, yes that is true,
But how about you?
Oh lovely things all are here and there,
Like cats on a chair,
Little kitties with balls of knitting,
They play the little kitty-kittens.

Like knocking down dominos, do you!

I love knocking down dominos. What would you like to do? Do you like to knock down dominos? Or do you like going to the circus?

Poem

A little domino high and low,
Sitting here just like a crow,
Every tiny little owl,
Comes to sit on every tree.
I'm an owl, so come with me!
Dominos come to say,
Little mice have eaten prey.
And when the dominos see a mouse
They are wondering
About things that rhyme like mouse and house and woodlouse.
A little domino high and low,
Sitting here just like a crow,
Is going, going to bed.
Little dominos have a sleepy head.
They jump in their bag, the bag that is brown.
The little ones gently go to sleep,
The one plus one, and the ten plus ten,
Are clucking away just like a hen.
But all the little ones they sleep,
Till tomorrow in a heap.
They look so cute in their bed
With their little eyes and sleepy head.
Some have one eye, some have ten,
Some have six, some ten plus ten,
Some are cute, and some are nice,
But everyone has its form like mice.
All the mice have come to hear
Dominos are everywhere.
But when they saw a bag just brown,
With little dots all yellow and red,
All sleepy they were in bed.
Tiny lizards sizzle in rocks
Little snakes and great big snails
Like the wet and they like the hail.
Little birds are tweeting in trees,
Bees are buzzing like wild beasts.
In the marvellous world you will see,
Lots of things that interest your parents
Like long-legged skeletons and crocodile heads.

Little microscope things and little poems about animals and teeth things

This is fluff, one is from sheep (left) and the one on the right is from a plant. I found it near a pond. All these two things, they just come from a microscope. Yes, just an ordinary microscope. Those round things, those little bubbles are air bubbles, and the things on the right are little veiny things, I think.

Poem:

This is a poem about lovely little creatures.

Plants and animals can be seen,
Everywhere on the bean.
Every little bird is through,
In the mountain up to you.
And when they see you, nice and clear,
They say hello and go and steer,
But when the night has come to be
Little bats come out and do
Some supper.

There's also vampire bats,
Who stick their teeth into the shoes
Of harmless little crock-a-boos.

A humungous fungus and a silly poem

I found a fungus at a place where I was walking with my parents that's called la prairie de la Fa. I was going at a path that I had never been to.

Poem: a very silly poem

A chicken had lost its cake
And it made a mistake
It thought it put the cake on its head
Or maybe thought on his bed
But no, no, no it wasn't
He thought that he might have put his cake on Jupiter
Because he had been to Jupiter in the last hour.

It's a fish!

Story in French: Le nuage qui mettait tout le monde dans une poubelle

Il y avait une fois un nuage qui a dit à un autre nuage " tu n’es pas beau", et il a mis le pauvre nuage dans une poubelle. Apres, il y a eu un autre nuage. Cette fois c'était un cumulus et ce cumulus avait un autre nuage avec lui qui était un stratus. Ils étaient mariés mais c'était un peu difficile, parce que le stratus je crois que c'est plus haut qu'un cumulus.

Le nuage qui mettait les gens dans une poubelle les a mis tout de suite dans une poubelle aussi, même sans rien leur dire. Des centaines de personnes sont allés dans la poubelle. Ou est-ce que la poubelle les mettaient? Je vais vous le dire: la poubelle allait jusqu'à la déchetterie. La déchetterie a dit aux nuages "que faites-vous ici?" Les nuages ont répondu "il y a un gros nuage qui nous met dans une poubelle". Le stratus et le cumulus ont dit "il nous a mis dans une poubelle même sans rien nous dire.

Apres une autre personne a parlé mais tout le monde a commencé à crier: "ce n’est pas bien, il nous a tous mis dans une poubelle, avec stratus et cumulus". Alors, les autres nuages c’étaient des cirrostratus et des altostratus. Et les gens de la déchetterie ont dit: "calme, calme, peut-être qu'on peut faire quelque chose."
"C'est vrai?", ont dit cirrostratus et altostratus.

Et dans la nuit, ils ont trouvé une bonne idée. La déchetterie était sur le toit de la maison. Maintenant si tu voulais savoir quelque chose, ils n’étaient pas sur le toit d'une maison. Ils étaient sur un toit de branche. Tout le monde avait leurs choses de déchetterie. Mais vous voulez savoir comment ils dorment, les nuages? Tout le monde était perché sur une branche de toit parce que tout le monde dormait, pas dans une maison, mais dehors, même dans la neige et même dans l'automne. Ils ont commencé à mettre plein de choses de la déchetterie partout.

Apres le nuage qui disait à tout le monde qu’ils n’étaient pas très jolis et les mettaient dans une poubelle a eu un gros carton sur sa tète et il a dit "ou je suis dans le noir, c'est ou ma branche-maison, je suis ou, je suis ou, je suis ou... ?" Et alors, il à découvert que c'était une boite sur sa tête, et tout le monde avait mis des déchets ici et là, même ou il dormait. Et le nuage méchant a dit: "vous n’êtes pas jolis, vous n’êtes pas jolis, vous n’êtes pas jolis !"

Tout le monde a dit "qu'est ce qu'il se passe ?", parce que le nuage qui mettait les gens dans la poubelle a dit "oh mon bolis, oh mon bolis, vous avez craché mon bolis de malheur !" Puis il a dit "pitié, pitié !" et puis il a dit "je vous mettrez plus dans une poubelle, jamais". Et les autres ont dit "vraiment?"
"Oui", dit le nuage qui mettait les autres dans la poubelle. Et il a reconstruit le lit avec les autres.

La Fin

My Little Unicorn

I made a coat for my little unicorn. It was a bit tricky but I managed. I even made some hearts.

Poem: The Blunder Wears His Under

The Blunder doesn't wear trousers,
Or a shirt too.
He wears shorts instead
But he wears them on his head.
And his socks, he puts on his hands,
And puts his blouse on his feet,
And that's how he goes walking out
On Tuesday street.

But the other time I saw him
Walking up the lane
With Mrs Garretorial
That was happy in pain.
But when we saw her,
She was walking upside down
In Up and Down Street
In a lovely cold town.
Like a bit of block of ice
But inside you'd burn your feet
If they didn't wear shoes
Shoes that you eat.

The nonsense things in the castle like Mr. Nonsense

Lucky Antonia, she still has a blog, so let's post in it. If anyone chances here searching for Yellow House Homeschool Senior, aka Penny, well, I seem to have disappeared into the ether. I don't know why. I'm trying to find out and figure out what to do about it.

I made a wall next to my front step and it was made of hailstones.

A poem of the queen and a king

It was a very linger,
The king broke his finger
The queen poked her thumb
And then the queen got stung!

The king's finger was there,
But his thumb had disappeared.
His thumb was walking round the palace,
Meeting the iron spears.

But the queen came walking with it,
And saying: "How are you?"
Can I put you on the king's hand
So that you can sleep for the night".
And then the thumb was back on the finger
And had a bloody sweet night!

One more thing,
Said the swing:
"I just want to reverse
But one plus eight
And eight plus one
All makes 900 and blurrrs".

My little lantern

I made a paper lantern. It's a bit difficult to make because we need two people. And also it was a bit scary because I put some fire in it. Mummy took a picture of me to put in my blog.

(Mummy thinks this is a very dangerous experiment and let it go ahead under close supervision, fully expecting to have to put out a young fire. Mummy thought that people who can't work out that this is not a good idea just by thinking might need an opportunity to learn about consequences.)

Poem:

In the night of darkness gloom,
The flashes of the owls creak.
The flowers splitter and spleak,
The moon is quiet over days,
Wolves are howling.
Everybody says
The wind is crawling
Over fields with leeks.
The wind to Africa,
The wind to Egypt,
The wind everywhere,
Everywhere, even North Caroline, China.
The days are splatching,
The days are shimmering gliffly,
We're sleeping all the time in our bed,
With a chicken pillow on our head.
Now I must say goodbye,
Because I'm running around here to fly.

Story: Clever Nothing

Once upon a time, there was Nothing. Nothing set out to do nothing. It was not surprising, because Nothing was a nothing. There was nothing in the land of Nothing. Of course, because we say nothing, nothing, nothing. So what would you expect coming up but a tree-making thing. It made the grass, it made everything. Nothing didn't know how to stop it, because it was nowhere, and it was a nothing. So Nothing didn't do anything.

The next day Nothing started on a vacation to find another nothing place for itself. It saw a tree that still had nothing on it. There wasn't even anything there. But for a nothing, there could be a mountain, a valley or a tree. But Nothing had been running so far it hadn't noticed that anything was looking at it for a long time. There was a tree-catching monster that ate and drank nothings. Being Nothings, they didn't have blood. Instead they had nothing in them. So the monster set out to find that poor little Nothing, but that Nothing had seen the monster and that Nothing tripped on a nothing, and then another nothing. Nothing slipped and the monster had built a cage, and slipped himself, and landed on his cage, while the Nothing slipped onto the cage. And that was the end of that tree monster.

The End

Patterns

I love doing patterns, because in the end when you're finished, you get something beau-ti-ful. But when you've only started, you get something not so beautiful. As it gets bigger, it gets more pretty and more beautiful. Really, it might take you three days, but we can do it still.

Poem

Blue patterns, red patterns, green patterns, purple,
Orange patterns, red patterns, pink patterns, ochre,
So many things you can make them out of them
Diamonds, triangles, squares and ovals
Hexagons, pipagons, all those stuff,
What you can do
The squares can be rough!

Diamond clouds in the sky

In the bath, this afternoon, I found lots of clouds. I wondered if any angels were on the clouds, or maybe there were some aliens hiding and playing peek-a-boo. But I just thought it was made with just water. Sometimes the clouds are made with crystals but I don't know which ones.

Poem:

The clouds high up, high in the sky,
I could touch them, yes it would be I,
But the clouds are made with water there,
Our hands go through that lovely air.
So if you found some clouds beneath
There's fish in clouds splashing leaves,
The water in the clouds makes a pool
For elephants, angels, fairies, cool!
But if all those things don't exist
Like elephants and pompapist,
Then all those things will be for me
Other folks too, and even he!
And that's the end of my lovely poem
Bye bye, with a sigh, I already said hi, bye bye!

Story: The People That Had Writing On Them

Once upon a time, people weren't quite like us. They were peculiar. They were all made of writing, even the cows and the trees, the ducks, the dogs, even the rivers.

Once a man came along. He looked at the grass. He said: "That's peculiar. This grass has writing on it." Then a tree came walking along. The tree was writing on its own branches. The tree tried to write on the man, but the man was going too quick, and the tree couldn't keep up with him.

So the next day the tree built a quick-catching machine. When he saw the man again, the quick-catching machine caught the man. But how would the tree write on him with the net in the way? He decided to make another kind of machine. When he had finished making another machine, the tree caught the man and drew all over him. He made a sun, two raincoats and a sheep, the dipper and the little dipper. He even made a rainbow, but with grey colours and with writing on of course.

When the man got home, he washed the writing off, and the next day, the man himself built a machine. The tree had troubles because he was in the trap. When the people saw that, they knocked the tree, they banged the cage out of the way, and the tree came back. Everyone was trying to get the man, even the houses. But the houses were eating too much so they were as slow as one little baby snail in its shell.

The man caught everyone in his machine and rubbed all the writing off them. He told the people he'd rather have them without writing just for once, because they looked good before, but a bit funny. And when the people heard that, they were sad that they looked funny. Now they do not wear writing, because they decided it was a bad fashion to wear. They put the tree in a cage and now this tree has been cut up and used for logs instead.

The End

My experiment

I had been making some chariots, some that people used long, long ago, and some that we saw used in India. Cows were pulling them. I put the animals around my chariots for decoration. My animals are very nice. They let me stroke them. I've got about a hundred of them, or so. Here is a poem about them.

Poem

A bear, a cat, a unicorn, a rabbit, a kitten, a dog, a penguin, a dinosaur, a panda too
So many toys, even a horse, even all my friends couldn't count them of course
If I cannot count them, then who can but me
And what about the other things you could possibly see.
If you want to have animals like me, like some adult penguins and a baby pony,
Now I will say goodbye, so don't ask me, don't ask why.

I've got a little baby rat, too, she's very sad because I forgot her in the picture. Little rat says "I hope you had a Happy Christmas. And I hope everybody got nice presents".

Rainbow in the valley

A poem

The diamond rainbow all and lovely, I wish it was I,
Even if it isn't me, I can still see
Little rainbow in the sky,
Pretty, pretty a bit like I
Little rainbow coloured too
Red, orange, yellow, green,
So many colours, it's on a screen.
Blue, indigo, purple too
And that's a colour of a rainbow dew.

The rainbow is really lovely. I wish I could touch it but it isn't really there. I met a rainbow one day, and I said "how will I meet you, let me play. I wish I was as pretty as you. I want to be pretty, me too! But if I can't what will I do. I'll just have to give up". "Me too!". The rainbow trotted off with me and we lived happy together, see, but when the rainbow started to faint away, I couldn't see him. Bye bye today.

The mountains

From my window, in the valley, I found some clouds that had come down to the planet.

The clouds were meeting the Earth,
The green, nice Earth.
They said "Hello", and wanted to look,
And so they took the stick and hook.
They came to see the green nice Earth
Who sat there bored and like an Earth
Who looked at the girls and boys.

The girls were playing on the slide
The boys were playing with mouth open wide
The clouds were singing and looking through
The beautiful planet, old and new
They said, "how nice I'll stay for a week
So I can look and I can seek."