Homeschooled Teen
The place for homeschooled girls <3 November/December 2006
Homeschooled Teen is both a magazine and an online forum for girls 12 and up. A place where girls can share their stories, poems, and thoughts. It's written by homeschooled girls for homeschooled girls.
WELCOME—to Homeschooled Teen! A little letter from Mandi, magazine editor/publisher
So this month Homeschooled Teen got out late. Here’s how it happened: On November 2nd or 3rd, I said to myself “Oh my gosh! I’ve completely forgotten about Homeschooled Teen!!” and decided to start putting the magazine together as soon as possible. Unfortunately I had a horrible cold, with a pounding headache that really hurt if I sat at the computer. So the days slipped by. On November 5th, I told everybody on the forum that I was going to write the magazine the next day. So on November 6th, I woke up. I went downstairs and sat down on the computer. I opened notepad and started coding myspace layouts. After about 3 or 4 hours, I finished a layout, and opened Internet Explorer to check the posts on Homeschooled Teen. That’s when it hit me—I HAD COMPLETELY FORGOTTEN ABOUT WRITING THE MAGAZINE!! And I had already been on the computer for hours and hours! So at 5:00 PM I started putting all of the articles and everything together. Well, it’s four hours later, and I’ve finally completed it! So here’s your wonderful November/December issue. Remember that in January the magazine issues will start coming out once a month, instead of every other month.
This issue starts off with a little article about Ear Worms, from Victoria. This article was very interesting…I swear, there’s never a moment I don’t have a song stuck in my head >.< The next part of the magazine is a little guide to HTML codes, by Keavy. Keavy is really good at HTML codes and stuff, so she wrote up this really cool “how to do” list. The magazine then moves onto jokes by Alison, Megan, and Lily. These were really funny! Then, Alana, Lily, and Stacy express their views on vegetarianism. Next is a recipe on how to make Gingersnaps with Pumpkin dip, by Alana. These look really tasty! Next is a craft on how to make homemade clay beads. I’ve made this kind of “dough” before, only I sculpted it into a person =D That is followed by a story I wrote the day after my dog died, about my family’s life with my dog and what it was like to say goodbye to a dog that was such an amazing companion for 13 years. Then Lily wrote a short story. She said it was “the beginning” of a short story, so send the rest in, Lily! =P Next is the picture section—there’s a really good picture that Alison drew, and then a photo of Megan’s dog. Alison’s drawing is really, really good, and Megan’s dog is soo cute! Then Emily sent in a movie review for the movie Amadeus—I’ve seen this movie 2 or 3 times and it’s very good! And that wraps up the November/December issue—thanks for sending everything in, girls!! ^_^
The Interesting Corner Interesting articles, facts…anything interesting ;-)
Ear Worms By Victoria, age 13 I got this off of http://news.bbc.co.uk. It was really interesting.
Research in the US has found that songs get stuck in our heads because they create a "brain itch" that can only be scratched by repeating the tune over and over.
In Germany, this type of song is known as an "ohrwurm" - an earworm - and typically has a high, upbeat melody and repetitive lyrics that verge between catchy and annoying. Songs such as the Village People's YMCA, Los Del Rio's Macarena, and the Baha Men's Who Let The Dogs Out owe their success to their ability to create a "cognitive itch," according to Professor James Kellaris, of the University of Cincinnati College of Business Administration. "A cognitive itch is a kind of metaphor that explains how these songs get stuck in our head," Professor Kellaris said "Certain songs have properties that are analogous to histamines that make our brain itch. "The only way to scratch a cognitive itch is to repeat the offending melody in our minds." Professor Kellaris has presented the early results of his earworm research at a conference on Consumer Psychology. He said that virtually everyone suffered from a cognitive itch at one time or another. "Across surveys I found that from 97% to 99% of the population is susceptible to earworms at some time," he stated. "But certainly some people are more susceptible than others. Women tend to be more susceptible than men, and musicians are more susceptible to them than non-musicians." The research is of particular interest to both the pop industry - looking to boost sales - and to advertisers, who often use jingles to get their brand name stuck in the head of listeners. "For both advertising purposes and pop music purposes, you want something that once heard is not forgotten quickly or easily," explained jingle writer Chris Smith, adding that a good earworm was "Insidious - and often quite blatant". "One of the key elements of an earworm is repetition," he said.
"If you have something with a lot of varied content, it's not so easily assimilated. "So really, I would have thought that for practical purposes an earworm is really something that people can take on very quickly and then reproduce while walking down the street, much to everybody else's annoyance." "I compiled a top 10 list of earworms in the US, but the number one item is simply the category 'other' - which means that any tune is prone to become an earworm," he said. "It's highly idiosyncratic." And he added that there was also no guaranteed way of ever getting the song off the brain. "Replacement strategies rarely work, because as we search our memories for a replacement tune, we're likely to come up with another earworm," he admitted. "Some people swear by completion strategies - if you listen through a piece in its entirety, some times that will make it go away."
The Basics of HTML-Part 1 [Keavy-Age 13] Here are a few simple but effective codes that you are welcome to use around your sites or forums. If your confused, or need help with any of these codes, or other ones, feel free to send me a PM. Enjoy!! ---------------For Bold Text
TEXT HERE For Italicized Text
TEXT HERE For Striked Out Text <strike>TEXT HERE For Underlined Text
TEXT HERE To make a break in a line
To make an Image Link
![](IMAGE URL)
To Make Marquees <marquee>TEXT HERE Some People like to have text areas, so people who visit their site can copy texts or codes. <textarea>Text Here HTML Hearts ♥ Scrollbox Code
TEXT HERE
Jokes! Alison C. Age 12 A couple was newly married. The husband told the wife that he has treasures in a box under the bed so the wife is not to look inside it. The wife complied. Ten years passed by and one day the wife got curious about the box under the bed. Wife opened it and found $200 and four beer bottles. The Wife questioned the Husband as to her finding. Husband explained that the bottles are in the box because every time he cheated on the Wife he would put a bottle in the box as a reminder for his contrition. The Wife was furious but she forgave him because after all he only cheated four times during their ten years of marriage.
One day, the Wife remembered that Husband did not explain what was the $200 in the box about so she proceeded to question him about it. The Husband explained that every time the bottles got full in the box, he would redeem them for money. ---------------------------A blonde woman bought a brand new sports car. She was taking it down the highway when this monster truck stops in front of her and she's not paying attention and crashes into him. The truck driver gets really mad and gets out of his truck and draws a line in the dirt around the blonde. "Don't move from this circle or else!" So then he turns to the woman’s new sports car and takes out his jackknife and starts stabbing the leather seats. The blonde starts laughing. The truck driver glares at her. He gets into his truck and runs over her car! The blonde is slapping her knee laughing. The truck driver says "What the heck is so funny?" The blonde goes "when you weren’t looking, I stepped out of the circle!" -------------------------
Lily C. Age 15 A blonde and a brunette are walking down the street. The brunette says, "oh look. A poor dead bird!" and the blonde looks up into the sky and goes "where?!" ------------------------------------
Megan, age 13 A brunette, a blonde, and a red-head are stranded on an island and have to swim 100 miles to get back to land. the brunette goes 20 miles, gets tired, and swims back. the red-head goes 40 miles, gets tired and swims back. the blonde goes 60 miles, gets tired, and swims back.
Debate Club
Readers express their different views on subjects This month’s dabate: vegetarianism.
Alana G I'm a vegetarian and I don't believe in eating animals but I also believe that everyone has their choice on what they eat and what they don't. I think it would be nice if everyone stopped eating them but I don't really think that'll ever happen.
Lily C It used to be that people needed to eat meat to survive, but that isn't the case anymore. some people think that you miss out on a lot of important nutrients and stuff eating meat, but I have never eaten it and I am just fine. You can take some supplements to get things you might normally get in meat/fish anyway. I just could never stand the thought of eating the animals I saw walking around at farms and such. It creeped me out. it just seems like unnecessary killing.
Stacy P Meat is good for you. It has good nutrients and stuff. Plus it’s very, very tasty! I think if people want to eat meat, they should. Next month’s dabate: PG 13 movies. Do you think you REALLY, REALLY, REALLY have to be 13 to see them? Or do you think they’re a little strict?
RECIPES Try some of this delicious food!
Gingersnaps With Pumpkin Dip By Alana.G. Age 13 Gingersnaps 3/4 cup butter
1 cup sugar plus extra for dipping 1 egg 1/4 molasses 2 teaspoons baking soda 1/2 teaspoon salt 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon 1/4 ground cloves 1/4 teaspoon ground ginger 2 cups flour
Pumpkin Dip 4 ounces cream cheese 1 cup confectioner's sugar 1 cup canned pumpkin puree 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon 1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
To prepare the gingersnaps Pre-heat the oven to 375' F. Place the butter and sugar in a large bowl and beat with an electric mixer on low speed for 1 minute, or until creamy. Add the egg and molasses and mix on medium speed for 1 minute, or until combined. Add the baking soda, salt, cinnamon, cloves, and ginger and mix for 30 seconds. Add the flour and mix for 2 minutes, or until completely combined. Chill the dough for 30 minutes for easier handling. Place some sugar into a shallow bowl. Roll the dough into 1/2inch balls and roll them in the sugar. Place on a ungreased baking sheet about 2 inches apart and bake for 10 minutes, or until set.
To prepare the pumpkin dip Place the cream cheese in a medium bowl and beat with an electric mixer on medium speed for 2 minutes, or until smooth. Add the confectioners' sugar and mix for 1 minute, or until incorporated. Add the pumpkin, cinnamon, and ginger and mix for 2 minutes, or until completely combined. Refrigerate until ready to serve.
Place the pumpkin dip in a bowl, place it in the center of the plate, and arrange the gingersnaps around the bowl.
Crafts! Homemade clay beads! Sent in anonymously These beads are made from salt dough, and they’re really uber-cool!! Here’s what you need: •
two cups flour
•
1/2 cup salt
•
3/4 cup water
•
one tablespoon cooking oil
•
toothpicks
•
paint
•
string
•
newspaper
•
paintbrush
Here’s what you do: 1. Put the flour, salt, water, and cooking oil into a bowl, mix it up, and knead the dough for five minutes. 2. Shape the dough into beads. You can make them round, long or whatever shape you like. 3. Use a toothpick to poke a hole through each of the beads. Make sure the holes are nice and big. Put the beads on newspaper to dry. Let them air dry for a few days. 4. When they're dry, you can paint them any way you want. Be creative! 5. When the paint is dry, string your decorated beads. You can give them as a gift or enjoy them yourself.
Stories Saying goodbye to Barney By Mandi SK, age 13
My parents always had pets. From the time they bought 6 acres of land in the middle of New Jersey, up until yesterday. My mom worked with an organization called Animal Rescue Force, which found homes for homeless animals. That’s why my mom was always bringing home some dog to keep, and at one point my parents had 6 dogs. About a month before I was born, my mom’s friend Claudia (who lived near us, at the time) called my mom. “Isabel, did you get a new dog?” She asked. “No, why?” My mom replied, puzzled. “Well who was that white dog I saw on your land then?” Her friend questioned. White dog? What was she talking about, my mom wondered.
A few days went on, with my mom keeping herself busy around the house, when Claudia called her again. “Isabel, I saw that white dog again.” My mom was completely puzzled. What white dog? She didn’t have a white dog. Then, a few days later, my mom walked outside, holding my older sister Jessica’s hand. Then, my mom saw him. A small yellow lab came trotting around the house and stood on the driveway, looked at her, and sneezed. “Don’t go near him, he might be nasty!” She warned Jessica, who was 4 years old at the time. The dog suddenly seemed to realize that my mom was a person, and, according to him, he needed to give her a greeting. He walked towards he like she was his best friend, then gave her a big lick on the hand. This dog was not a nasty dog. My mom, who was always pretty soft with animals, decided that she wanted to keep him. Boy, was that the best choice she ever made. Of course, my mom would need to take him to the vet to get him examined for rabies and heartworm, and all other diseases that stray dogs carry. So there was my mom, 9 months pregnant with me, taking this wild dog to the vet’s office. When she got there, she let him out of the car and walked towards the building. He did fine until they approached the steps leading up to the waiting room. “Come on, boy!” My mom encouraged. The dog just stood there—then it hit her. He didn’t know how to get up stairs. My mom realized her only option was to pick him up and carry him up, so that’s what she did. One of the vets inside the building saw her and came running out. “Isabel! What the heck are you doing?? You’re going to kill yourself!” Because it’s not very wise for a 9-month pregnant woman to be carrying a 55 pound stray dog up stairs. Well, he was examined, and it turned out he had a bad case of heartworm. Luckily, they were able to treat it and he recovered. My parents decided to name him Barney. The name fit him perfectly.
He was about 3 feet tall at the head, and was a deep golden yellow color, with one little white stripe running up his face, from the tip of his snout to the back of his head. He was the perfect, healthy weight, and very muscular. He was a very handsome dog. When I was born, I would torture him. I was a baby; babies do annoying stuff like that to dogs. I’d hang on his back, pull his tail, purposely get him wet since I knew he didn’t like it…I was just a total brat. But the extraordinary thing about Barney was that he never ever barked, growled, or did anything aggressive. I’m not exaggerating, like he really did bark, but only once in awhile—Barney never. Ever. Barked. Not even once. Now, dogs are really cute and sweet and stuff, but when you’re trying to do something, and they’re in the back round howling and yelping and barking themselves hoarse, it gets annoying. We never experienced that with Barney. Ever. One of the highlights of my year each year is when my family travels to Cape Cod, Massachusetts, to camp for 2 weeks. What my family used to do would be we’d put Barney in a kennel, then go and stay in a motel. One day, when I was 3 and Barney was 4 (we actually weren’t sure how old he was, we assumed he was about a year older than I was, but it could have been 2, or even 3), my mom realized that whenever we were in Cape Cod in the motel, she would always be thinking about Barney, and missing him. That’s when my family decided to start camping. We bought a nice, popup camper and all camping equipment, and headed up to the Cape. Cape Cod turned out to be one of Barney’s favorite places in the whole wide world. Every year, he could sense when we were getting ready to leave to go camping, and he would get so excited. When we finally got there, he’d sniff every tree, bush, plant, person, and animal. We’d go to the Cape Cod bay, and let Barney off of his leash, and he would run and run and run, he’d be free, chasing seagull’s (which he never caught) and growling at horseshoe crabs. It was his absolute favorite thing to do.
Then, in our campsite, he’d have a really long leash on that tied him to a tree, and he’d lie down in the sun, and the sun would reflect off of him and he would look like an angel. Each year that passed I would love Barney more and more. Even when he was 11, 12, and even 13, he was in perfect shape. About a year and a half ago, we took him to the vet. The vet lifted him up on the examining table, took one look at him, and said “What a great dog you have here.” And I just stood there and beamed. My Barney was the most precious thing in my life. In August of 2005, we went to Cape Cod. Each year when we go camping, we make sure we arrange our camping trip to the same date that our friends from Canada are coming, since we’ve been meeting each other up there for 8 years. They have 2 dogs, one male white poodle, and one female black poodle. They were Barney’s friends. He would play with them for several minutes, but then when they started to annoy him (He’s much older than them, so he’s the adult and they’re the “kids”) he would growl at them and then walk away (Barney would growl when he was playing with his doggy friends, but he never ever growled at a human). That particular trip to Cape Cod was just like every other. Barney would go to the bay, run around, and have the time of his life. Of course, he hated water, so whenever he had to actually go in the water he’d get sad, but when he was running on the sand bars he loved it. I was noticing that Barney wasn’t running as much as he used to, but I just assumed that was (of course) because he was getting a little older. My whole family was positive that Barney would get to see the bay at least 5 more times in his life. Little did we know, that was the last time he would ever come camping with us. Things started to go downhill in November, ’05. As my sister (Who was 16) and I (12) sat eating breakfast, Barney walked in the room. “Hey Jess, does Barney look skinny to you?” I inquired. “A little bit, I guess we should just feed him a little more.” She answered.
Then one morning I woke up, and stumbled down the stairs, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. My mom rushed up to me. “Mandi, get dressed, we have to take Barney to the vet.” My mom said, fiercely. Confused, I rushed upstairs and brushed my teeth and threw on a pair of jeans and a turtleneck. “What’s wrong with him??” I asked her. “Last night, he wouldn’t lay down at all, and his eyes were so glazed over he didn’t even look like the same dog.” She answered. I got so worried that, crying, I found my sister. I told her everything, and soon we were rushing Barney to the vet’s office. A female veterinarian greeted us, saying she could see our dog now. She examined his eyes, his ears, and his heartbeat. “He looks OK to me, but if you want, I can take an X-ray to see if he has any broken bones or something that would cause him enough pain to not want to lay down,” My mom said yes. Five minutes later, she walked back into the room looking grim, leading Barney by his leash and holding the X-ray results. “Well???” My mom asked, frantic. “It appears he has a tumor, right behind his stomach.” I felt my heart jump into my throat. Tumor? Isn’t that the thing that one of mom’s friends died from?? “Unfortunately, it appears he doesn’t even have a week left to live, because the tumor has gotten too large to perform surgery on a dog his age.” Jess and I started crying. So did my mom. “No, we don’t want to do it, I’d want my husband to be there anyway…” My mom said. We all piled into the car, tears silently streaming down our faces. “Not again…” My mom moaned. I was so alarmed to see my mom cry like this, since I’ve never seen her do it before. “I’m sick of this! Every other dog has died, I don’t want to have to go THROUGH this again!” My mom said. I stroked Barney’s head. His eyes met mine, and he seemed to be saying “Am I really dying?”
That night, my parents sat down with Barney and thought about what a wonderful dog he was. My mom called a spiritual healer named Virginia Stephenson, who lives in Hawaii, and desperately asked her for help. Amazingly, Barney lasted a week. Barney lasted a month. He made it through Christmas. He got to see me turn 13. He was here to celebrate the Fourth of July when my friends Chris and Jules came over to celebrate. He had lived 9 months later than the vet had told us he would. We were convinced that he was fully recovered, and that our precious Barney was OK again. But then, mid July, this horrible heat wave came. It was well over 105 degrees, and Barney, with his old age, couldn’t take it. He became really weak. He started gasping for air and seemed to have trouble breathing. His hind legs couldn’t even support him anymore, they were always so bent over. When we would take him out for a walk (we have 6 acres of fenced in land, so when he was younger we would just have to let him out and he’d do his business on his own, but as he got older he would only do his business if somebody walked with him outside.), he would just stand there, too exhausted to even walk. He was suffering badly. My family knew that his time was soon going to be up. One night, my mom and dad called my sister and I into their room. “Girls, Barney’s not going to last very long” they told us. “And we think the only reason he’s staying here suffering so much is because he loves us too much to leave us and cause us lots of pain.” Jess and I nodded. “So just talk to him, tell him it’s OK to go if he wants to, that if he wants to die he can. He doesn’t need to stay here for us anymore, we don’t want him to be in pain.” I looked at my old dog with tears welling up in my eyes. He wasn’t the strong, muscular, magnificent dog he used to be. He was extremely skinny (even if we fed him a can of food ever 2 hours), his ribs were showing, his hind legs were so exhausted from standing up, but for some reason he couldn’t lay down, so his legs were so bent underneath him it looked extremely painful. He was panting like crazy, even if the AC was on high and I was freezing. Every breath he took his sides heaved in and out, and I realized my parents are right.
“Barney, it’s OK to leave us, go on boy, don’t stay just for us…” I told him, fingering his ear. His eyes met mine and I saw so many emotions inside of him by just looking into his eyes that I completely broke down. Barney wasn’t just an “animal”, he was part of my family. And I was saying goodbye to him. I had really expected to wake up the next day and have him be dead, that when I woke up and he was still alive I was shocked. He was standing in the kitchen, when suddenly his sore little legs gave way and he went crashing to the floor. He closed his eyes, but didn’t yelp. He never, ever gave us any hint that he was in great pain. Three days later, and also three days before we were supposed to leave for our annual Cape Cod camping trip, I woke up and came downstairs. My family’s life revolved around Barney, but we didn’t care. We loved him so much, and every second of the day was spent wondering “Where’s Barney? Is he OK? When was the last time he was fed? When was the last time he ate?” I walked outside into my garage and found Barney lying there, with my mom standing over him. I knew he wasn’t dead, since his sides were heaving in and out. “What’s the matter with him?” I asked her. “He fell…again. He can’t get up, he can’t walk anymore” She told me. I couldn’t believe it. This wasn’t fair. “I have to go on errands, you make sure you take care of him, OK?” She asked me. “Mm hmm” I replied. I started out by sitting there with him, stroking him. Then I fed him some chicken, and a veggie hot dog (he loved those things). When my mom came home, she looked at me with tears in her eyes. “Mandi, I called the vet. He’s coming to our house in an hour, and he’s going to tell us if Barney’s suffering or not.” “Ok,” I said. For the past few weeks, I had been convincing myself that Barney was just having a bad spell, and that he would get better. So when my mom told me that, I really thought that Barney was going to be fine. I stared out into the driveway. Barney had managed to get up, and was standing in the middle of the driveway, panting, his legs practically breaking under the exhaustion of supporting his skinny old body, too tired to even walk. Then it hit me. He wasn’t going to get better.
He was going to have to be uthinized. I picked the poor dog up and carried him over to a mossy patch right in front of our house, and laid him down in a little hole that he had dug many, many years ago. That mossy patch used to be his favorite place to relax on a hot day, and he would dig these shallow holes to lie in. Amazingly, that one hole had remained. Jessica and I pulled up lawn chairs and set them up around him, and sat there, staring at him. We noticed that his left ankle was extremely swollen, and realized he must have injured it falling. The poor little thing was so exhausted. He stared into our eyes, and I looked right back, and said “Barney, don’t worry, the vet is coming and he’s going to set you free, after he gives you the shot, you’re never going to feel pain again.” And, amazingly, he seemed to understand. He really knew what was going to happen to him, and for the first time in a long time, he set his head down and actually took a nap. My mom called my dad up while he was at work and told him to come home. Several minutes later his work truck came speeding up the driveway and he jumped out of it, looking really concerned. Dad was always Barney’s favorite, since Dad was the biggest and the toughest and the strongest out of all of us, and also since Dad loved Barney like a son. He sat down next to Barney and stroked his head. “It’s OK boy, it’s going to be all over soon.” He assured him. We all gathered around Barney and pet him, telling him he was the best dog ever. Soon the vet’s car came up the driveway, and a vet named Dr. Gloth came out of it, along with his assistant. Dr. Gloth had examined Barney numerous times before, so it was kind of special that Barney would be released by a vet who knew him and cared for him. “This is it,” I thought. Barney, my beloved little angel, was finally going to stop suffering. His pain was finally going to stop. He was going to go to Heaven. I smiled through my tears as I imagined Barney playing with all of the other dog’s my mom has had over the years. Dr. Gloth took out a stethoscope and held it against Barney’s heart. “Oh, wow” he murmured. “This poor little fella’s heart is slowing down, every breath he takes is a huge effort.”
Mom stared at me. Every breath Barney took was causing him pain? Well how come he had never yelped, or given us any sign that he needed help? Because he didn’t want to worry us, that’s why. I couldn’t believe it. People think of animals as below humans, that humans are better than animals, but that’s not true. Barney had as much depth to him as any human being, and looking into those wise, old, aged eyes made me realize that, as he stared at the vet trustingly. “Don’t worry,” the vet assured my sister and I, seeing that we had tears flowing down our faces. “This is a painless process, and Barney will feel so grateful to you once it’s over.” I nodded and wiped my eyes on the back of my hand. My family gathered around Barney. I had my arms around his stomach, mom was holding his paw, Jess was patting his head, and dad was stroking his hind foot. I bit my lip and kept whispering “I love you Barney, I love you, don’t worry, because I love you so much.” My whole family just kept saying that. “Don’t worry, we love you, we’ll see you in Heaven when we die too.” Then Dr. Gloth took out the needle, rolled a vein in Barney’s foot, and injected it. I gasped. This was it. My arms were around his body, so suddenly, I noticed his heartbeat getting slower and slower. Then it stopped. Barney was finally, finally free of his suffering. But I sure wasn’t. I looked as his body, rolled over, and started sobbing the hardest I’ve ever cried in my life. My parents thanked the vet and then he left. We wrapped Barney in his Yellow Blankie (his yellow blankie was a fake fur golden blanket that he’s had his entire life) and dug a hole in the ground. My mom found a fabulous picture of the whole family in Barney’s favorite place, Cape Cod, and stuck that inside Barney’s blanket too. We gathered all of his toys from around the house. Then my dad put Barney’s big bed in the hole, lay Barney’s body on top, and we arranged all of his toys around him. We all stood, holding hands, and sobbing. “Goodbye Barney, I love you….” I said. Then Dad filled the hole up with dirt, and now all that’s left is a little mound in the ground.
My heart is still raw and numb with disbelief. He’s dead. Barney’s dead. But then I remind myself that he’s not in pain anymore, and that he’s not suffering. But then I break down crying, remembering what an amazing dog he was. My family leaves for Cape Cod the day after tomorrow. It still won’t be the same without Barney.
And here’s a short story by Lily C. Age 15 The girl wove quickly through the crowd that filled the sidewalk. people passed her on either side, some coming, some going, some standing still and waiting for a traffic light to change. always, she kept her eyes fixed on the back of the man she was following. he was nondescript, dressed in stonewashed jeans and sneakers and a secondhand-looking dark red sweatshirt; with tan-colored, tousled hair. When he stopped, she felt that she was catching up; but whenever he began walking again she always seemed to fall behind. She had been tailing him for almost half an hour, and she was beginning to get a stitch. I wish he would slow down! She thought. She glanced around. Suddenly, something caught her eye and she glanced down. As her concentration on walking lapsed, she was stopped abruptly as she walked into the person in front of her. "Excuse me," she said, glancing up again -- and her mouth dried up. she had walked into the man she had been tailing! How did he get so close so suddenly? he was a lot younger than she had thought. she guessed he was maybe between sixteen and twenty; it was hard to tell. With slightly tilted, deep brown eyes and his tan hair, he looked somehow...foreign. "Why are you following me?" He said quietly. "You weren't very subtle. Who are you?" She tried to look him right in the eye and prepared to lie, but when her eyes met his deep, dark brown ones her confidence slipped. She looked away quickly. That intent stare of his was making her nervous. "I wasn't following you," she mumbled. "Don't play games," he said. "Look at me." She stared at her shoes, her mind racing.
What do I do? "Look at me." She looked up, and unwillingly met his gaze.
PICTURE SECTION
This drawing is by Alison C. Age 12
And here’s Megan’s dog! Sent in by Megan, age 13
MOVIE REVIEW: By Emily D.
Amadeus The incredible story of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, told in flashback mode by Antonio Salieri - now confined to an insane
asylum. Antonio Salieri believes that Mozart's music is divine. He wishes he was himself as good a musician as Mozart so that he can praise the Lord through composing. But he can't understand why God favored Mozart, such a vulgar creature, to be his instrument. Salieri's envy has made him an enemy of God whose greatness was evident in Mozart. He is set to take revenge. The movie was very entertaining. Very educational too.
Details about submitting articles: You can send in anything you want to share to:
[email protected]. Here are some ideas of what to send in: Drawings Jokes Riddles Debate club: whatever your view on the month’s subject is Recipes Fantasy stories (**Make sure all stories are under 10 pages**) Real life stories (like things that happened to you) (**Make sure all stories are under 10 pages**) Any other kind of stories Movie reviews CD reviews Crafts Photographs Book reviews Anything to do with being homeschooled Beauty advice, girl stuff, etc Most embarrassing moments Make sure when you send in anything you include your first and last name (I will only use the first initial of your last name, though) and a picture of yourself. And if you have a picture you think would be nice for the cover, email it to the usual email address:
[email protected].
SPREAD THE NEWS!!!!
Tell all of your friends that are girls ages 12+ and homeschooled about Homeschooled Teen!
Copyright 2006