Three Minutes Squeezing Oranges

Normanday #105: Orange you glad for oranges?

Write for three minutes about…

…the woman examining oranges in the produce department.

Email what you wrote to bigfootreads dot wernert at gmail dot com by the end of the day December 8 (put “Norman Sleepwalks on Friday Nights” 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).

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

…what it feels like to fly.

Tren Rewy Steb

Flying is loud. I’m not sure if it’s the engines running or if there’s air being pumped into the cabin, but whatever it is, it makes it hard to hear the music through my headphones. And I want to hear the music very badly because I need something to take my mind off the enormous metal wings I can see out the window. If I look at them long I can’t help but think how heavy they must be and how it doesn’t make sense that they will be able to lift the plane. I know there’s science to explain why those wings will lift the plane, passengers, and all that luggage (and the carry-on the lady next to me has—it seemed full of bricks when she set it down on my foot). I remember that cartoon coyote who would step off a cliff, but not fall until he looked down. I try not to think about the plane suddenly realizing how absurd it is for it to be flying and, once looking down, falling coyote-like to the ground.

Three Minutes Flying

Normanday #104: My cape is dry clean only.

Write for three minutes about…

…what it feels like to fly.

Email what you wrote to bigfootreads dot wernert at gmail dot com by the end of the day December 1 (put “Norman is Green, But Never With Envy” 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).

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

…what the cat dragged in.

 

Bigfoot

Lucky dragged it in. I wasn’t sure what it was exactly. It had fur and stringy bits that could have been whiskers or strands of dried up spaghetti. The only thing I was certain about was that it was dead. Lucky was proud of the dead thing. She placed it on the doorstep and stood next to it with her head held high and her chest thrust out as if she were waiting for me to pin a medal on her. I guess what she really wanted was a little appreciation. And isn’t that what you’re supposed to show when somebody brings you a gift, whether or not you like it? So I did. I thanked her and I made over the dead thing. Then I placed it in my curio cabinet along with all the other gifts the cat dragged in.

ReRunday: HUCK RUNS AMUCK! (Picture Book)

Originally posted on July 2, 2011.

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by Sean Taylor, illustrated by Peter H. Reynolds

Dial-Penguin, 2011

A Book Review by

Violet the Telekinetic Puppy

I’m Violet and I’m going to tell you about a funny picture book called HUCK RUNS AMUCK. HUCK RUNS AMUCK is about a goat named Huck who runs amuck. Amuck is a funny word and Huck is a funny goat and funny things happen when Huck runs amuck and that’s why HUCK RUNS AMUCK is a funny picture book.

Huck is a special type of goat and that type of goat is a mountain goat. That means Huck is good at climbing. It’s good that Huck is good at climbing because the other thing about Huck is that his favorite food is flowers and the flowers Huck wants to eat are all in high-up places. Huck is a good climber but when he sees flowers he gets excited and he goes amuck and then he isn’t a careful climber.

Huck does a lot of climbing in this book but he doesn’t do a lot of eating because every time he gets close to flowers something happens to keep him from eating the flowers. One time he gets close enough to eat some flowers when he climbs way up a tall cliff that has flowers on top of it. But Huck doesn’t get to eat those flowers because he falls off the tall cliff and that might sound sad but it is really funny because the picture of him falling off the tall cliff is so funny that you won’t be sad. And Huck doesn’t get sad either because right away he sees some more flowers to try to eat and that is another funny part because the flowers he sees aren’t the kind of flowers that grow in the ground they are the kind that are just pictures on underwear. Huck climbs a clothesline to get to the flowers that are really just pictures on underwear but a funny thing happens to keep him from eating the underwear flowers. I won’t tell you what the funny thing is because you will want to find out for yourself.

There are other funny parts where Huck gets close to flowers but doesn’t get to eat them. But there is one time he does get close to flowers and he could eat them if he wants and those are the flowers on a lady’s hat and the hat is on top of a church tower and Huck climbs the tower to get to the hat. But do you know what? Huck doesn’t eat the hat flowers because everybody in town thinks Huck is being a nice mountain goat and that he is climbing the church tower to get the lady’s hat for her. Even though he really wants to eat the hat flowers he doesn’t because he doesn’t want everybody to be mad at him and also because even though he is a hungry mountain goat he is also a nice mountain goat and so he doesn’t eat the hat flowers. The lady is happy and wants to give Huck a reward and you probably think you know what his reward is but if your guess is flowers you are only sort of right. If you think I’m going to tell you if Huck gets to eat flowers at the end of this book you are not even a little bit right.

The pictures in this book are fun to look at and I like the colors and I like the funny way Huck’s eyes look hungry and googly when he sees flowers. I also like the little bird that follows Huck around and I didn’t notice the little bird the first time I read the book but I liked this book so much that I read it a second time and that’s when I noticed the little bird. I don’t know why the little bird follows Huck around but I think maybe Huck ate his nest. That might sound strange but at the beginning of the book it says that goats can eat birds’ nests so maybe Huck ate the little bird’s nest. Except maybe Huck didn’t eat the little bird’s nest because the little bird doesn’t look mad. Probably the little bird is following Huck around because it is fun to watch Huck run amuck.

Here is a list of who will like this book:

Flowertarians.

Little birds.

Readers named Billy.

Three Minutes with Whiskers

Normanday #103: Thanks. I never think to get mice on my own.

Write for three minutes about…

…what the cat dragged in.

Email what you wrote to bigfootreads dot wernert at gmail dot com by the end of the day November 24 (put “Norman is a Top Notch Hula Hooper” 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).

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

…what you see when you look out the window.

Tren Rewy Steb

Looking out the window is like watching a TV show without the sound. It’s my show. I decide what’s happening. I write the dialogue.

A man in a hat is talking to an old lady hunched around her giant blue purse. The hat is a disguise, but not a good one. She recognizes him.

“I told you, I don’t have it,” the old lady says. Wrinkled hands clutching purse straps, she turns away.

“Give me the bag, you old bag,” Hat Man says.

She turns back to him. She hesitates only a moment before opening the bag. She rummages through it. Looking for what? Pepper spray? A phone to call for help? The money she owes him—money she planned to take to the track?

It’s a slip of paper. A secret code. The name of a criminal. The number of a safe deposit box containing a formula for invisibility. A breath mint.

She hands him a breath mint.

He goes on his way. She goes on hers.

I change the channel to a more exciting show. In this one a dog chases an alien. The alien has disguised himself as a squirrel.

COALTOWN JESUS (YA)

by Ron Koertge

Candlewick, 2013

A Book Review by Bigfoot

Let’s imagine something terrible happens. This terrible happening makes you feel sad, guilty, and confused. I’m not talking about your average everyday frustration, like forgetting to use deodorant on gym day or dropping your phone in the toilet. I’m talking crushing, hit-you-like-a-band-of-gorillas, question-the-point-of-everything terrible.

For your average everyday frustration, a glazed donut might cheer you up a bit. It does me. But for those really terrible happenings, donuts aren’t going to cut it. You need somebody to talk to. A good listener. A compassionate and empathetic guide. A sense of humor wouldn’t hurt either. And to answer those big “why” questions, it would be nice if your new confidante is in the know.

You could do worse than Jesus.

After the death of his brother, Walker is visited by Jesus. Jesus is patient, understanding, and kind—he’s basically everything you’d hope Jesus would be if he showed up unexpectedly and started hanging out with you. He’s also kind of a smart aleck.

Walker and his mother are having trouble coping with their loss. Mixed in with Walker’s grief is a heavy dose of guilt, although the reason behind it isn’t revealed at first. With gentle coaxing and humor, Jesus helps Walker acknowledge the guilt and move past it. Jesus may not give Walker pat answers to his big “why” questions, but he helps Walker get back to living.

COALTOWN JESUS is a short poetry novel. It won’t take you long to read, but it’ll take you an eternity to forget. If you’re ever faced with a terrible happening (or even a bunch of discouraging everyday frustrations) that has you questioning the meaning of it all and searching for reassurance, you could do worse than COALTOWN JESUS.

Three Minutes with a View

Normanday #102: Somebody should really clean this pane.

Write for three minutes about…

…what you see when you look out the window.

Email what you wrote to bigfootreads dot wernert at gmail dot com by the end of the day November 17 (put “Norman has Perfect Vision” 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).

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

…something you would never do in a million years.

Tren Rewy Steb

Practice? No, why would I? I’m sure some people would, but not me. Tightrope walking isn’t so hard. I don’t think so anyway. It’s like walking on the ground except up high. If you don’t think about how high up you are, there’s no problem. So up I go. One foot in front of another. Am I wearing a sensible outfit? No, of course not. I have on a flashy, sequined pant suit with a purple feather boa wrapped around my neck. I may look funny, but how else are all the people below going to see me? And the boa blocks my vision so I can’t see the long drop to the hard ground. This may be the best idea I’ve ever had. I don’t know why I’ve never walked on a tightrope while wearing high heels and swim goggles before. When I’m done with this, the next thing I’m absolutely-why-shouldn’t-I going to do is go skydiving while grooming an Angora rabbit.

ReRunday: GUYKU: A YEAR OF HAIKU FOR BOYS (Picture Book)

Originally posted on May 16, 2011.

~

by Bob Raczka, illustrated by Peter H. Reynolds
Houghton Mifflin, 2010

A Book Review by

Violet the Telekinetic Puppy

I’m Violet and I’m a girl puppy who likes a book called GUYKU. GUYKU is a book with lots of haiku poems about stuff boy people do outside in the spring and summer and fall and winter. Haiku is a kind of poem that has three lines and each line has a certain number of syllables and if you don’t know what a syllable is I will try to explain a syllable to you. I will try to explain a syllable to you by comparing a syllable to something else and the something else I will compare a syllable to is a tail wag.

A tail wag is when a tail goes back and then when a tail goes forth. If a tail wags back and then forth that is two tail wags. Sometimes I wag my tail back and forth when I am happy and sometimes I wag my tail back and forth when I am curious and there are other times when I wag my tail back and forth but I will tell you more about that another time. Right now I want to tell you about syllables and about how syllables help us count parts of a word and about how a tail wag is like a syllable.

Here is a picture of how a tail wag is like a syllable:

Now it is time to wag tails. Imagine I am saying a word and that the word I am saying is “frisbee” and for each part of the word “frisbee” I wag my tail once.

fris • bee = wag • wag

If each tail wag is one syllable then the word “frisbee” has two syllables.

I’m a puppy, so let’s see how many tail wags “puppy” has:

pup • py = wag • wag

It takes two tail wags to say the word “puppy” just like it takes two tail wags to say the word “frisbee” so the word “puppy” has two syllables just like the word “frisbee” has two syllables.

I’m a puppy but I am also telekinetic so let’s see how many times I wag my tail for the word “telekinetic.”

tel • e • ki • ne • tic = wag • wag • wag • wag • wag

Five tails wags means the word “telekinetic” has five syllables.

Do you understand? I hope you understand because I tried hard to explain syllables to you by comparing them to tail wags and I hope I did a good job. If I did a good job that would make me happy and I would wag my tail.

In haiku the first line has five syllables and the second line has seven syllables and the third line has five syllables again and the fourth line has zero syllables because in haiku there are only three lines.

In tail wags a haiku would look like this:

wag • wag • wag • wag • wag

wag • wag • wag • wag • wag • wag • wag

wag • wag • wag • wag • wag

In Guyku all the poems are haiku and they are all about boys doing stuff like fishing and flying kites and climbing trees and skipping stones and looking at stars and roasting marshmallows and throwing snowballs. There aren’t any girls in this book. There is a dog in this book but because this book is called GUYKU I bet the dog is a boy. There is also a seagull and another bird who isn’t a seagull but I don’t know what kind of bird that bird is and a squirrel and a fish and I bet they are all boys. It’s okay that there aren’t any girls in this book because it is still really good. The poems are really good and they make you see ordinary things in a special way like when the boy and the dog who is probably also a boy are looking at the stars and they think the stars look like a connect-the-dot puzzle or the boy who thinks a melted snowman has a spring allergy and he thinks the snowman’s allergy made the snowman melt. By the way, it is a snowman who melts and not a snowwoman.

I like the poems a lot and I also like the pictures that go with each poem. My favorite picture is the boy who is fishing and he doesn’t want to use worms for bait so the worms are squiggling away and the worms are probably boy worms. And my other favorite is the boy who is thinking of jumping into a puddle to get his sister wet. I just remembered there is one girl in this book and the one girl in the book is the sister of the boy who might jump in the puddle to get her wet. I just remembered something else. There is a girl mosquito in this book. A boy tries to splat her. I have lots of other favorite pictures but I won’t tell you about all of them because you can see them for yourself when you read GUYKU and you can read GUYKU even if you are a girl person or a girl seagull or a girl other type of bird or a girl fish or a girl worm or a girl telekinetic puppy.

Here is a list of who will like this book:

Boys.

Girls.

Amoebas.

The best part of this book is that it makes you want to try to write your own haiku. I wrote a haiku for spring and summer and fall and winter just like the author of GUYKU did but my haiku are not about boys. Here are my haiku:

My Spring Haiku

Rainy day odors:

wet grass, wet leaves, wet dirt (mud).

My nose is happy.

My Summer Haiku

It’s a sunny day.

Come out and play with me, Cat.

I won’t bite. Promise.

My Fall Haiku

I’m howling tonight

at the biscuit in the sky—

Yummy harvest moon.

My Winter Haiku

Bone, dead fish, or ball—

what’s hiding under the ice?

I’ll find out next spring.

Good-bye.