The daily create for March 20, 2015, was to write a poem about a rainy day. It’s really pouring here in Vancouver, so this was perfect for us. I asked my 7-year-old son to help me write a poem. He came up with the ideas and some of the lines; I turned some of his ideas into rhymes. Here is the result.
Oh, and as we were trying to rhyme something with rain, he was being silly and said “the number 84.” After we chuckled about that, we decided to put the number 84 into the poem. He said we should call it poem 84.
I don’t like rainy days
in so many ways:
they’re cold, they’re wet,
and they make me fret.
I’m like a cat, I hate water
rain’s too cold, I like it hotter.
And once you hear the story, can you blame me? It’s bad enough for folks to wrap their heads around having ghosts in their town, but ghosts who have been abducted by aliens? Why, I figured that might just be too much. And after having been nearly run out of town once, I didn’t want to risk it again.
But now with the other stories of alien abductions, including that of Don Burgeron, well, I think people are just scared enough about the aliens in general to not worry about us in particular. And I gotta say I’m real worried too, because though I don’t remember what happened to us up there in that spaceship, I do have an inexplicable dread whenever I come close to a cow. Which is a real problem here in Bovine, I can tell you. And Little Boo? Well, let’s just say he doesn’t enjoy stories about and spaceships and rockets and aliens like lots of other little boys do. Won’t get near a book about the planets or the stars, no sirree.
I’ve got a huge sense of relief that the story has finally come out, like I don’t have to hide anything anymore. But boy am I worried about the rest of the folks here in Bovine. Why are the abductions starting again? We haven’t had any here since Little Boo and I became the Boos. I thought those aliens had left us for good, but I guess they really like us here in Bovine County. Or maybe it’s a different set of aliens, doing different things to people? I shudder to think just what is going on.
I only hope turning people into ghosts is the worst they do.
Mama Boo here, working on my first assignment for the family computer classes.
Here we are in the first week of computer class, and we’re talking about storytelling. One of the things I liked best about this week’s computer class is the “story spine,” which you can use to build all kinds of stories. Basically, you set up the story with a narrative of what usually goes on, setting the stage with the normal, as it were, and then you have a “then one day” section that introduces the event. What’s the event? Whatever you want it to be! Then the characters have to react to that (“and because of that…” “and because of that…” etc.), until the climax portion of the story (“until finally …”). Then it ends with some kind of resolution or change and there’s a new normal (“and ever since then…”).
So here’s the Boos’ story using the story spine.
Once upon a time there was a mother and son, who lived happily in Bovine County, milking the cows and feeding the pigs and raising hay and such. The boy had just started school and he was very excited about learning, especially about animals and bugs, and soon he didn’t want to milk the cows any more but just read books. Etc.
Then one day... [well, this is the part I’m not going to tell; this is the mystery part and you can try to figure how how and why] … they became ghosts.
And because of that,the family got real scared and tried to get rid of them, thinking the ghosts were something that needed to be purged, something frightening. But the mother and son just tried to show them that they were just as friendly as before, no need to try to exorcise them or burn down the house or move the whole farm. It took quite a bit of convincing, and the kids were the ones to first take a shine to the ghosts. Well, especially Little Boo, whom they had missed so terribly and were excited to play with again. Eventually nearly everyone decided that the Boo’s (as they now came to be affectionately known) were a welcome re-addition to the Burgeron family. Those that didn’t like it, well, they just had to hold their peace because the Boo’s were here to stay.
And because of that, Mama Boo and Little Boo continued to participate in the daily life of the Burgeron family through the generations, each child growing up thinking that ghosts were just a normal part of life. They felt bad when they discovered at school that other kids weren’t so lucky as to have ghosts living at their house. Some of the neighbour kids told their parents, who told the sheriff, who told the state police, who said “ah heck, Marty, we know the Boo’s from way back. Lighten up a little. It’s the 20th century, and it’s time to welcome ghosts into our communities.” Sheriff Marty wasn’t really convinced, but he knew enough to keep his head down and go along with it.
Until finally … the county commissioners got involved. Someone in Bovine had read an obscure article in an even more obscure medical journal from across the globe suggesting that a community with ghosts living in the open, visiting different buildings with impunity, had seen a jump in the death rate from unexplained causes since the ghosts came out of hiding. And boy if that didn’t cause a ruckus at a public meeting called precisely to discuss the issue. The Burgerons and their friends defended the ghosts, but the tide seemed to be going against them. It looked like the ghosts may be run out of town. The county even called in the Texas Daredevils, the motorcycle dispatch.
But before the final vote, the flood came. No, not the big one of ’57, but one bad enough to take everyone’s mind off the ghosts for a bit. And wouldn’t you know it, Mama and Little Boo became heroes. At least for a time. They were able to warn a family who was sleeping through the flood that the water was rising quickly under their beds and they’d better get to the top of the house, quick. Which they did. And after the flood, no one much felt like bringing back the no-ghosts-in-our-backyard issue.
And ever since then, the Boo’s have lived quietly with the Burgerons, occasionally venturing out into the wider world, but mostly happy to stay at home. The people of Bovine County know the value of a bit of spirit activity here and there.