Three Minutes Waiting for Spring

Normanday #69: The robins are playing hopscotch with the earthworms.

Write for three minutes about…

…the moment you realize it’s finally spring.

Email what you wrote to woof at bright dot net by the end of the day March 31 (put “Norman Beat the Easter Bunny in an Arm Wrestling Match” in the subject line). I’ll post as many of my favorite entries as I want next Monday. Include your first name (or, even better, use a pen name) and age (unless you’re tortoise-old). If you’re a published children’s or young adult writer, include a biography to be posted with your entry.

Here is the single entry from last week when I asked you to write for three minutes about…

…extinction.

Schae D. Lane

When I was in the 6th grade, our teacher gave the class an art assignment. We were to draw an insect. Not one we have seen before, not one from around our area. Her instructions were to imagine it and then draw it, color it and name it. 

I imagined my insect was a large flying one, at least 18 inches long, with a wing span of over two feet. The color of the double pair of wings, one slightly larger and rounder than the other, was iridescent with darker hues of blues, pinks, and purples along their edges. The three sections of the exoskeleton, head, thorax and abdomen, were enlarged and in varying shades of rich purples and dark greens. My insect’s eyes were large, oval and black. The antennae were fuchsia and stood up straight on top the head. Of course all insects have the standard issue of six legs, and the legs on my creation were yellow, short and slender, and had a dusting of fine brown hairs. I quickly got to work, trying my best to convey my mental image of the majestic insect to paper. 

When the class finished the project, our teacher told us that our insect most definitely exists or existed. Insects make up the largest group of animals on Earth and new species are being discovered every year. I believe my insect lived millions of years ago, searching for food, avoiding being eaten, darting quickly around large plant life and flying high above dinosaurs.

I remember that I named it. I believe it was a clever name, at least clever for a 6th grader. Sadly, both the name and picture have been lost.

Three Minutes in Pondering the Fate of the Dodo

Normanday #68: Here today, gone tomorrow.

 

Write for three minutes about…

 

…extinction.

 

Email what you wrote to woof at bright dot net by the end of the day March 24 (put “Norman is Charming” in the subject line). I’ll post as many of my favorite entries as I want next Monday. Include your first name (or, even better, use a pen name) and age (unless you’re tortoise-old). If you’re a published children’s or young adult writer, include a biography to be posted with your entry.

 

Here is the single entry from last week when I asked you to write for three minutes about…

 

…something you lost or something you found.

 

 

Tren Rewy Steb

We got a puppy. We argued what to call her. We all wanted her to sleep in our bed. One afternoon we couldn’t find her. We walked around the house calling her name. No puppy came running. We walked down the busy highway. No puppy there. I was glad for that. The cars moved so fast. We went down a dirt road. Evergreens along the side were surrounded by high weeds, sticks, and wrappers. Just the kind of place a puppy would love. We weren’t walking any more. We ran, calling and calling, but no puppy came running. I wanted to keep looking, but Dad said we had to go home. I walked slowly, peering into the brush, hoping to see the tip of a sweeping tail. No puppy. Home again and in a daze. The puppy had been a surprise. I never thought I’d have a dog and now she was already gone. How could I go back to being a person without a dog? Mom asked if we’d had any luck. She was sorting laundry. Jeans and dark shirts in one pile, wet towels and underwear in another. And there she was. Curled up, lost in sleep like only a tired puppy can be, curled in a tight ball under a pile of dirty laundry. Home the whole time.

Three Minutes in the Lost and Found

Normanday #67: Finders keepers, losers weepers.

 

Write for three minutes about…

 

…something you lost or something you found.

 

Email what you wrote to woof at bright dot net by the end of the day March 17 (put “Norman Can Whistle While Eating Crackers” in the subject line). I’ll post as many of my favorite entries as I want next Monday. Include your first name (or, even better, use a pen name) and age (unless you’re tortoise-old). If you’re a published children’s or young adult writer, include a biography to be posted with your entry.

 

Here is the single entry from last week when I asked you to write for three minutes about…

 

…a family vacation.

 

 

Tren Rewy Steb

We were staying in a cabin by a lake. We’d take little day trips sometimes. One of the trips was to a cemetery. We had to drive up a hill on a long dry dirt road to get to it. There was nothing else nearby. A bright white picket fence enclosed the little cemetery. I saw all those old tombstones and decided to stay in the car. I watched my family walk from stone to stone, reading the names and dates. They seemed far away. I heard sounds. Sounds that anywhere else would be normal. That constant summer insect buzz. The cooling engine popping. The movement of my leg making the vinyl seat creak. Here, alone in the car parked at the top of a county road next to a cemetery in the middle of nowhere, they were the sounds of the dead. I held still, hoping they wouldn’t notice me, convinced if they did they’d get in the car and hitch a ride back to the cabin by a lake.

Three Minutes on Vacation, Take Two

Normanday #66: I bought a salt shaker in the gift shop.

 

Last week I asked you to write for three minutes about a family vacation. You all must have been on vacation because I didn’t hear from anybody. Not so much as a postcard. So, once more, write for three minutes about…

 

…a family vacation.

 

Email what you wrote to woof at bright dot net by the end of the day March 10 (put “Norman Needs a Vacation” in the subject line). I’ll post as many of my favorite entries as I want next Monday. Include your first name (or, even better, use a pen name) and age (unless you’re tortoise-old). If you’re a published children’s or young adult writer, include a biography to be posted with your entry.