Finally! What The Heck My Goats Look Like!

If you bothered to read the title, then you know that this post is probably about my two dairy goats, Batha and Macha... I mean Padma and Amelia.

The brown one is Padma, and the black-and-white one is Amelia. Please don't ask what gender they are (but I'll give you a hint: they're both dairy goats).

Padma is an Oberhasli. She's sort of pushy and eats a lot.

Amelia is an Alpine. Or French Alpine, if you want to get technical. She is really, really sweet and follows you around. But she doesn't like little kids.

The last time Amelia came into contact with Trelawney, my baby sister, she butted her to the ground.

I have no idea why Amelia hates Trelawney so much.

In other news, tonight was Halloween. I dressed as Scarlett March (fictional character in one of Jackson Pearce's books). I've officially eaten too much sugar for the night. Anything (Kit Kat, Butterfinger, Twix, Snicker) sounds pretty unappetizing to me-- except for Pixie Stix. I can't seem to get enough of them!

In a Somber Mood

I should be happy, because my 14th birthday is on Wednesday, because Halloween is on the 31st, because NaNoWriMo starts shortly afterwords.

But I'm not. In fact, I'm sort of somber. And tired.

Mostly because I watched 30 Rock last night, the one where Kenneth confesses that he ate his role model (which is a pig, by the way) in a pork eating competition.

I'm also feeling sad for my fellow writer Avi, whose dog Kenaii was pretty much stolen from them a few days ago. The person who stole him has chained Kenaii in her backyard.

And also, because I made cheese the other day, and it didn't stretch like it was supposed to. I'm a failure!

Why I like Coloring Books

This evening I was going through the living room, taking out the kittens for the night, and Ainsley was on the Wii, playing the Wonder Pets on Netflix.

Lizzie was carrying a kitten in front of me.

"Lizzie, I'm playing Save the Bengal Tiger." Said Ainsley.

"Wait for me, okay?" Lizzie replied.

"Ugh, you guys, I already know what happens in that episode. I read the coloring book." I said in a bored tone.

Basically, here's an overview of what happened in Save the Bengal Tiger: The Wonder Pets travel to India, where there is a white bengal tiger (surprise!) who has a thorn stuck in its paw. I don't know why it couldn't get the thorn out itself, but for some reason, a lot of the animals in this show are helpless.

This is where the details get sketchy (haha, get it?) for me.

There is a dancing, talking mouse with a funny accent, a baby elephant who can also talk, and a camel who can't talk, or doesn't talk. What is a camel doing in India? I don't know.

They all do a musical number at the end, and the mouse and the tiger become friends or something.

Anyway, Lizzie and Ainsley both sort of gave me a weird look.

"They leave a lot of stuff out in the coloring book." Lizzie said.

"Okay, sorry then."

What the Posts About Drawings Mean

Recently I've been posting some... posts about drawings. That pretty much all there is to them. Drawings, and a whole bunch of mishmash words you probably don't understand.


 Well, recently I've started stalking (I mean visiting) this website called ywp.nanowrimo.org. Which basically translates into: The Young Writer's Program.

Truth be told: It's a pretty cool website. I only ran into it because of the adult version of The Young Writer's Program, NaNoWriMo.

I checked it out, and I had to admit that the forums were WAY better than the ones on the other website. So I posted here, posted there, and I got hooked.

But anyway, on the forums is a section labeled 'art class'. It's a place for people to advertise, and ask for, character drawings, signatures, and book covers.

Immediately I started an art shop. I thought I was doing pretty well. Still am. It's just that I've seen a dramatic decline in customers, and I'm starting to get bored.

That's  the meaning of the drawing posts. I just had to post the pictures somewhere.

Drawings 2

Here are your photos, YWP people! Sorry it took so long!

Rosie311:

Daisychains:

Dezzay:

I love this one. 

Creative.nerd19:

Rue:

Zanna:

Anyway, hope you like 'em!

Why I Don't Read Books on Buses Anymore

Back last year, around winter, I took Middle School basketball.

Just warning you: I was terrible at it. Awful. I stunk. Bad.

I still did basketball, though. And that meant that I rode on the school bus.

Oftentimes, I sat alone on the bus, because I wasn't all that popular. And I have no idea why. I sat at the bus alone. But that didn't mean someone didn't sit in the seat across from me.

On this occasion, we were traveling about forty minutes out. I didn't have an Ipod. I had a book (which, in my opinion, is way better). I was bored of people ignoring me, so I took my copy of  the Kane Chronicles out of my backpack and started reading.


About two minutes later, the girl who was sitting in the seat across from me said, "Is that a book? Whydo you have a book?"

She said it like I was committing a crime.

My insides curled up, and I gently closed the book (I was re-reading the book, by the way). "Yeah, I do have a book." I said gently, if not slightly embarrassed.

The girl scrolled down her Ipod Touch and selected a different song.

"No one reads outside of school." she said matter-of-factly.

I do. I thought. I remember being really upset. Upset because, hey, I just distanced myself even farther from the popularity line. And because no one reads outside of school.

I put the Kane Chronicles back inside my backpack and tried to forget about what the girl said. But I can't forget it, no matter how much I try to.

It's not because I was told off for reading a book, it's because I pity the people who think that reading is just for homework. Just something teachers make you do in school. Not something you want to do for pleasure.

Maybe it's because these days, kids have come to think of books as something related to school. And they are, but so many books aren't. They don't have any idea.

And after that, I never took a book on a bus again. Or, if I did, I'd make sure no one was sitting in the seat across from me.

I had a few friends who were pretty understanding of my hobby, though. I think I got Daisie hooked, at least.

Well, good. Huzzah! One saved!

Harry Potter

Can you see what that says? I think it's Harry Potter.

Harry Potter, one of the awesomest series. Ever.

There's so many subplots and subplots and subplots and subplots. The series is like an onion. You peel back one layer at a time.

That truly is an awful picture up there, isn't it?

By far, my favorite book in the series was the Half Blood Prince, even though (SPOILER ALERT) Dumbledore dies. And Bill gets malled by Fenrir Greyback.

But I still loved it. A lot.

Does anyone else love Harry Potter?

Probably.

But some people think that Harry Potter clashes with religion. They believe that just because the characters in the book twirl their wands and have birds spurting out of the end, that it's wrong to read the series.

I won't disagree with you people. I don't want to cause conflict. Because, truthfully, my schedule is flogged enough right now.

But I'm a Catholic, I love God, I read the books, and I still love God (shocker!). That's it. I mean, it was just a set of books. I'm not going to think that because I read them, my religious views were jeopardized.

Characters

This is for Ellenar Ride:

Swirl-Girl:

Angela.Harkness (you get two, just because I messed up the first one):

I hope you guys like them!

C- Section Kittens (WARNING: This post contains Images that may or may not cause you to gag)

Today I see the need to finally tell you about how Percy, Fred and George were born. I've put it off for too long. But I must Warn you: This post contains some VERY bloody images. So if you're one of those gag-easy people, skip over this one, please.

Okay, then. Don't say I didn't warn you.

So where to start...

Oh yes. I came home from Middle School one day this March, and my Mom was in her bedroom, with Katie.

"She's ready to give birth, Hannah." Is what she whispered.

"No way! Cool beans!" Is what I think I said.

Katie indeed, did appear that she was about to give birth; her belly was the size of that of a blue whale, and she had her milk in.

We eagerly waited for an hour. We waited, and waited, and waited.

"What's that bag thing sticking out of her--?" Ainsley asked me.

"Well, I think that's the baby kitten, Ainsley." I tried to respond scientifically, but failed.

By then. my Mom and I had begun to suspect things were going wrong. We Googled, Youtubed, and called people, trying to figure out what was going wrong.

Skipping over some important details, we ended up at the vet's office over and hour-and-a-half later, trying to call a vet to try and look at her. Dr. Vet answered the call, along with Dr. Vet 2's daughter, and fiance, who lived on the premises for the vet office.

Katie was looked at, and it was determined that she would have to have an emergency C-section done. Immediately. I knew that the kittens inside of her were most likely dead, so we were just doing the surgery to save Katie's life. I know. Pretty selfless of us.

My Mom took the next several pictures (I was in the waiting room, trying not to listen to what was going on where all of the other people were). I was utterly repulsed about the whole cutting-open-cat ordeal. But that doesn't mean it wasn't necessary, PETA people.

Katie, before the C-section. Her life was more painful then. Just look at her.

I don't know what's happening in this photo. Wait! Yes I do! That thing Dr. Vet has in her hand is called a kitten. A kitten covered in a placenta.

That's a kitten, not a rodent-thing. I can't really tell which one it is.

This one gets to be extra small, because it's the bloodiest. I probably shouldn't be putting this in here. I expect that that organ is the Uterus, as this was an emergency C-section.

That kitten is either Fleur or Charlie. We gave those two kittens away, when they were old enough. It's not because we didn't like them, it's because someone asked for them, and we said yes.

After the C-section. Five squirmy, undead kittens. And Katie.

So all of the kittens (surprise!) survived. There was Fred, George, Percy, Charlie, and Fleur. That rat looking thing on the left end is Percy, for sure.

Just to show you what he looks like now:

He is such a gorgeous cat.

And here's Fred:

Ignore Susan. She's awesome.

And here's George:

Such a wonderful belly.

And Fleur and Charlie (before we gave them away):

Charlie. Ignore the eyes. They weren't like that.

Fleur.

Apologies

First off, I'd like to apologize to the Pioneer Woman, for poking fun at her in every other (maybe more often than that) blog post. But the thing is, you make it so easy to poke fun at, what with your flowy tops, and your need to reuse pictures in every post, and the need to photoshop all of your kids so that they look like aliens...

That's not much of an apology. Sorry, Ree.


I'd also like to apologize to Steve Jobs, for not buying any of his products while he was still alive. Truth is, though, I'm not rich enough to buy one of his products yet. But I will! If I ever have enough money, I'm going to buy a Mac! One of those big computers. Not a laptop.

That's also not much of an apology, Steve. Sorry.

And lastly, I'd like to apologize to Fred, my cat. I feel bad for using him in my photo shoot (this traces, once again, back to the pioneer woman. You need to visit her website). I was being a jerk.

                                                        That's a penguin. Three penguin to be exact.

The wind is nailing us at 100 miles an hour right now. Ah, Kansas.

Yo! Test Post!

This is a test post, to see if the tab button worked or anything. So if it doesn't, ignore this!

Let's Put Clothes on Animals!

I actually did what the title implies.

Why? You may ask. Why'd you do it, Hannah?

Well, I did it for a specific purpose.

You see, I finished my manuscript a few days ago (I really need to get that in to my agent-- a.k.a, my Mom), so I saw the need to put clothes on my cat Fred.

When you finish the manuscript that you've been working months on, grab the camera, the cat, and some clothing. Mix and match! BTW: the cat can't take photos of you in the clothes.

It started out as just a scarf. The fun colored, zebra striped scarf. But then I started rounding up all the cute doll clothes I could find, because hey, I finished my manuscript.

The socks stayed on for a total of 0.02 seconds. So when I dressed him up in other rad articles, they weren't on anymore.

It's Friday, Friday
gotta get down on Friday
Everbody's lookin' forward to the weekend, weekend--


Sorry. Rebecca Black made me do it.

I like the bag. Rock on, freaky bro!

Remember, I can do this, since I finished my manuscript.

(No animals were harmed in the making of this blog post)

Noveling, Running, and Some Oreos

I went on a run this morning. It was pretty fun. I didn't start to feel the side-affects of running for the first time in a month until after my run, when my legs started feeling like jelly. This is my karma getting back at me for eating junk food. I knew it would get back someday.

But there's more. Yes, much, much more.

After my run, I had this.

Yep.

Knock off Oreos and raw goat milk.

I'm not sure about the goat milk, but I know that Oreos, even if they are knock off, are not very healthy.

I've also decided that the manuscript I spent months over-- and just finished-- is pretty lame. I don't know how that could have happened. I mean, me? Write something lame? It doesn't really make sense to me either.

No one would want to buy it.

Well, I'm sure there's someone out there who'd want to buy it.

Someone way out there, like in Germany.

Or in Pawhuska, Oklahoma.

I'm sorry, for being negative. I'm still kind of sad that Anthony Ryan went home last Thursday on Project Runway. He wasn't even my favorite person there (that spot is saved for Anya, if anyone watches Project Runway and cares).

NaNoWriMo is next month. Is anyone signing up and doing it? You should. I love NaNoWriMo. It's the coolest thing since sliced white bread.

Done!

I've done it! I've finished my first manuscript! Huzzah!

I love writing. It's so much fun.

I got, like 74K down, which just barely squirms inside the boundaries for the title Adult Novel (not like it's gonna be an adult novel. I'm thirteen). And technically, it about reaches the deadline for YA.

Just wait till I get into revision, though. I hate revision. I hate it with a passion. I always think, why can't the first thing be good enough? Why do I have to spend yet another batch of late nights going over countless lines of this part needs taken out. Add-- thirty minutes minimum or I didn't get this part because I was tired, and I wanted to go to sleep. Make it easier to understand. Add more action. Add-- an hour of hard labor.

I'm already getting geared up for all those denied query letters from publishers I'm bound to get, too. That's the pains of being an author, though.

Ciao!