<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948287682456555871</id><updated>2012-02-16T02:03:16.487-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Winter's Diaries</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Winter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04876828961266361792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoHA49zFWOI/AAAAAAAAAAg/L99G6DyUtTw/S220/IMG_3998.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>28</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948287682456555871.post-7560007288976103990</id><published>2011-04-16T05:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-16T23:59:12.600-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Opas moving</title><content type='html'>Today my opa(grandpa)  is moving!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Emma moved a few weeks ago and she moved further away from my family`s house. I didn't have that much fun at opa's house when they  were unpacking !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Because there were no toy's that they would let us play with.My oma(grandma)gave me a  beautiful  gray hat with a  bow .....and thats the end!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948287682456555871-7560007288976103990?l=wintersdiaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/feeds/7560007288976103990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2011/04/opas-moving.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/7560007288976103990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/7560007288976103990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2011/04/opas-moving.html' title='Opas moving'/><author><name>Winter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02944374416436475064</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948287682456555871.post-7474107435154473745</id><published>2011-04-13T10:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-13T10:25:27.520-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EbYX7KnmF4Q/TaXYnICLu4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/d-mjrRhJttU/s1600/WintersBunny.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 192px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EbYX7KnmF4Q/TaXYnICLu4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/d-mjrRhJttU/s320/WintersBunny.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595116278760848258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;On Monday I drew this.Dad said it was really good.I also thought it was good!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;I had to erase some of it every once in a while.I made the sun angry because it didn't"&lt;br /&gt;like bunny who teased  him for being  so hot !!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948287682456555871-7474107435154473745?l=wintersdiaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/feeds/7474107435154473745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2011/04/on-monday-i-drew-this.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/7474107435154473745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/7474107435154473745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2011/04/on-monday-i-drew-this.html' title=''/><author><name>Winter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02944374416436475064</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EbYX7KnmF4Q/TaXYnICLu4I/AAAAAAAAAAM/d-mjrRhJttU/s72-c/WintersBunny.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948287682456555871.post-569927891817086503</id><published>2011-03-30T01:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-21T02:32:56.566-07:00</updated><title type='text'>At  the woods</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FHkJLw3vM5s/Ta_ygAKqcvI/AAAAAAAAAAk/TxLV4Hv6ytU/s320/IMG_4318.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597959493459276530" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-size:11.1111px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF0000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;W&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-size:11.1111px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33CC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;e went to the woods while we were there we did many fun things. For instance we built a big fort that you couldn't see through.  We wanted to make our fort over the top of the tree stump, but there were bees inside. I almost got stung by one, because I stepped on it. When we were done making the fort, we got to eat our snacks and drinks. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33CC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: -webkit-xxx-large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-size:11.1111px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33CC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-size:11.1111px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33CC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Daddy also made a little fire inside the little fort&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HKDmWafZMck/Ta_zAN5Hf3I/AAAAAAAAAAs/ggFZv-xaBhI/s400/IMG_4319.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597960046899593074" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#33CC00;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-size:medium;"&gt;W&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;e &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;wanted to play hide and seek, but dad didn't want to. So we played marbles, because Sterling brought all of his marbles with him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-k9mG1TJkbq4/Ta_3xVceIrI/AAAAAAAAAA8/eAGMmYtV20E/s400/IMG_4321.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597965288787026610" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);  font-size:medium;"&gt; It was kind of chilly out there, and we didn't really bring our ja&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;ckets. All we had was our sweaters. After that, we went to a playground that I didn't really get to play on because Sterling needed to go home because he needed to go to the bathroom. Before that, dad tried to get a birds nest that was s&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" color: rgb(51, 204, 0); font-size:medium;"&gt;uper high in the air, in a super high tree. He said he could climb it, but he didn't want to. So he climbed  little bit, and then climbed back down. After he got down, we went back to the fort to see if anyone had taken it, and then we were going home and walked on a little bridge where if you fall in, then you will get soaked and be hard to get out. We eventually crossed it safely. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gWrUK6baGKI/Ta_zAX7ASxI/AAAAAAAAAA0/xGvOhbt7v5w/s400/IMG_4336.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597960049591864082" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" color: rgb(51, 204, 0); font-size:medium;"&gt;Sterling was the first one to try and go over the bridge. We also found a few hiking sticks, and a few burnt up places where other people had made their fires. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948287682456555871-569927891817086503?l=wintersdiaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/feeds/569927891817086503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2011/03/at-woods.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/569927891817086503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/569927891817086503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2011/03/at-woods.html' title='At  the woods'/><author><name>Winter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02944374416436475064</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FHkJLw3vM5s/Ta_ygAKqcvI/AAAAAAAAAAk/TxLV4Hv6ytU/s72-c/IMG_4318.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948287682456555871.post-5349153722308897879</id><published>2011-01-10T08:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-10T08:52:31.198-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We moved to Holland</title><content type='html'>2 weeks ago we moved to Holland. We moved to Holland because dad was going to school and mom wanted to move here. When we got to the airport we had to wait 1 hour for the plane to come. Mom said she would get us ice cream, but she didn't get it when we were in the airport. When we were on the airplane, I watched Peter Pan, 102 Dalmatians, Despicable me. Later on when my ears were popping, my mom wouldn't give me my gum. When we got off the airplane, mom brought us to get some ice cream like she said before. I thought the ice cream was better than the ice cream in America.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then we had to decide which cars to get in. I got to go in Opa's car, and Opa and dad got to go in the van. When we got to our new house, I started looking around. When I saw my room I almost screamed. Me and Ginger were fighting whether we got to sleep on the top bunk or not. I decided to sleep on the bottom, which is better because you can get out of bed faster when you need to do something. One week later we got everyone's bikes. We got mine first. We tried one bike that was a little bit too big for me. Then we looked at a different bike that was perfect. Then we went home so we could get mom's bank pas and me and mom rode home. A few days later I got something that goes on the back of my bike (saddle bags) and mom bought some for her bike too. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our new church has English teachers. Some don't speak English, but my teacher does. Sometimes she translates for me, and sometimes she doesn't. Hannah is my new best friend. We met each other on New Year's eve. We also know each other because we go to church and school together. Our church here in Holland is much smaller than the one in Texas. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I go to Dutch school now and I have lots of new friends there. I can't remember all their names, because there's lots of them. One of them can speak English and Dutch. Our teacher is very nice, because she teaches us Dutch and if we need help saying something, she'll help us. She lets us play games that have to do with Dutch and learn more Dutch and write it in a book. First we get a workbook, then we write something in Dutch and then in English. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When opa came over we were watching a movie. Right now I'm in my living room. It is bigger than our other living room. It has a cool light shade. We get heat out of the floor, and in the morning when it's super cold it warms our feet up. The kitchen is very small. It has a small freezer that's kind of like a box and opens from the top.  Our house is 3 stories high. The bathrooms are also very small. When you stand up, you bonk your head on the wall. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I miss the cheese from America. And I miss grandma and grandpa, and their house that they lived it. I miss all my friends from school. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948287682456555871-5349153722308897879?l=wintersdiaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/feeds/5349153722308897879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2011/01/we-moved-to-holland.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/5349153722308897879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/5349153722308897879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2011/01/we-moved-to-holland.html' title='We moved to Holland'/><author><name>Winter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02944374416436475064</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948287682456555871.post-3371508790423640272</id><published>2010-11-25T16:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-30T16:49:50.722-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Resources All Around US</title><content type='html'>Earth is filled with natural we use every day. If you open the faucet, water pours. Because it opens a plug that is holding water behind it. The water comes from the water towers. You can burn oil in the furnace to stay warm. If you plant a flower in some soil, it is helping the earth. Without water we can't survive. Without water, animals die. Soil helps provide things we need like vegetables. Oil is buried deep in the ground.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948287682456555871-3371508790423640272?l=wintersdiaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/feeds/3371508790423640272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2010/11/resources-all-around-us.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/3371508790423640272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/3371508790423640272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2010/11/resources-all-around-us.html' title='Resources All Around US'/><author><name>Winter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02944374416436475064</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948287682456555871.post-7701822599980446330</id><published>2010-11-16T15:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-30T15:35:13.209-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Rhyming Chant</title><content type='html'>There was a little eagle sitting in a tree. &lt;div&gt;He cheered for Third grade students and got stung by a bee.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He flew so very high and bumped his little head.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He fell to the little ground and when he got back up again, this is what he said&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Start, start, start, start&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you might eagles&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fight, fight, fight, fight&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you mighty eagles&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Win, win, win, win&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;you mighty eagles&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Start, start, start, fight, fight, fight, win, win, win!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;GO EAGLES!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948287682456555871-7701822599980446330?l=wintersdiaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/feeds/7701822599980446330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2010/11/my-rhyming-chant.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/7701822599980446330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/7701822599980446330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2010/11/my-rhyming-chant.html' title='My Rhyming Chant'/><author><name>Winter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02944374416436475064</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948287682456555871.post-5431817860960653596</id><published>2010-07-23T15:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-23T16:13:09.257-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The whole summer</title><content type='html'>My mom has been so excited lately, because 2 people want to buy our house at the same time. And 2 more people are coming to look tomorrow to see if they want to buy the house. She thinks they will make an offer, so she shakes me every time she gets so excited. I also like playing the Wii. But here's what I don't like about it. Before I can play the wii, I have to do the "Dutch game' (rosetta stone), which is so boring, because all you have to do is click the right answers and say things in Dutch. Here's the worst thing; sometimes I say things right, but they think I'm wrong. But I'm really not. I'm doing great at it. After I play the Dutch game, I'm allowed to play Wii. We have charts to say how many minutes we have. Right now, I don't have too many minutes. I've almost finished my chart. &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This summer we went to the waterpark, Hawaiian Falls, lots of times. Sometimes we invite Riley, Bailee, Brooks, Tucker, and Tracey (Sparks) of course over with us. Some of the rides I did were the "Pineapple Express". It's like this thing where you lay on this mat and hold on to a handle bar. Then, when the lifeguard says "go", you push yourself off, and you go down in a race. Whoever goes furthest, wins. Another thing I like, which is not really a ride, is the lazy river. There are floaties, where you can go down the river, and you can go out whenever you want. Something that Tracey was scared of, was not so scary for me. It's called the Torpedo. The floor drops out from under your feet, and you fall down this big slide. Those are some of the rides I like the best at Hawaiian Falls.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I got a quilt for Christmas that you have to put together. I'm still working on it. It's crazy, because I've been working on it a lot, and I'm still not finished. It has all sorts of colors you can use. You have to knot them together. The colors are: purple, blue, pink, green, orange, and yellow. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Whenever my mom takes care of great grandma, we get to sleep over at her house. And when we sell our house, we allowed to stay with grandma for the rest of the year, until we go to Holland. We're gonna do some redecorating of her kitchen and her living room. My mom says I can help with the wallpaper, but she says I have to ask grandma if I'm allowed to do the painting. Most of the time grandma isn't home, but we get to see her in the morning and at nighttime when we have dinner. She goes to work, that's why she can't be there in the daytime. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Great grandma has a sewing machine. Sometimes she helps me help make quilts, because she makes quilts for her great grandchildren. She made one for me too&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497243044367106546" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/TEohbFd9AfI/AAAAAAAAAF4/SfyIzt9e8b8/s400/IMG_8780.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I go to poetry class once a week at the library. But not all the time, because sometimes my mom doesn't want to drive to Allen. Some of the books mom picked out from the library this week, were kind of long, but I think they're going to be very interesting. Some of my favorite books are: "just Grace", "Diary of a wimpy kid", "the dragon tree", "the witches". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948287682456555871-5431817860960653596?l=wintersdiaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/feeds/5431817860960653596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2010/07/whole-summer.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/5431817860960653596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/5431817860960653596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2010/07/whole-summer.html' title='The whole summer'/><author><name>Winter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04876828961266361792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoHA49zFWOI/AAAAAAAAAAg/L99G6DyUtTw/S220/IMG_3998.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/TEohbFd9AfI/AAAAAAAAAF4/SfyIzt9e8b8/s72-c/IMG_8780.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948287682456555871.post-788085116645150111</id><published>2010-02-08T14:55:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-08T15:13:28.352-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Kitty and the Pie</title><content type='html'>Once there was a cat. She wanted to have a party at her house. She was going to make an apple pie, but she didn't know what an apple was. So she got what she thought was an apple, but it was actually hamburger. She got a mixing bowl, and a mixer. For the crust, she added baking powder, salt, milk, and yeast. She kneaded it into a pot, and put it in the oven. She accidentally forgot to add flour, so she took it back out of the oven after a minute, and stirred in the flour. After the crust was done, she put in the "apple" hamburger filling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her friends came over, and before dinner, they played wizard chess and swam in the pool. The cat heard the timer go off, and called everyone in for pie.  When her friends sat down, the dog noticed that the pie smelled different. This was a weird dog, he didn't like meat! He took off the top crust, and saw that it wasn't apple pie, but hamburger pie. He said: "I don't want to hurt your feelings, cat, but I don't think this is apple pie. I think you put in the wrong ingredient. You put in hamburger, instead of apples".  The cat was confused and insisted that she put in the right thing. But she promised to ask someone for help next time when buying ingredients.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The End&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948287682456555871-788085116645150111?l=wintersdiaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/feeds/788085116645150111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2010/02/kitty-and-pie.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/788085116645150111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/788085116645150111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2010/02/kitty-and-pie.html' title='The Kitty and the Pie'/><author><name>Winter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04876828961266361792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoHA49zFWOI/AAAAAAAAAAg/L99G6DyUtTw/S220/IMG_3998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948287682456555871.post-6459709431613188103</id><published>2010-02-01T13:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-08T14:00:01.728-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dinosaur adventures</title><content type='html'>Once there was a dinosaur, who lived on a beautiful island. The island had plants with cherries and the trees were filled with apples. The dinosaur lived in cave that was like a tunnel. He lived there with lots of bats. One day he decided to explore the cave. He got his flashlight, and went on an adventure through the tunnel. Deep into the cave, he saw a door. He tried to get in, but it was locked. So he went even further into the cave. It got colder with every step he took. All of a sudden he bumped into a big rock, that had a key on top of it. He wondered if it would open the door, so he grabbed the key, and ran back to the door. He used the key, and it did unlock the door. When he opened it, he was very surprised to see.......     you'll have to wait until next week to find out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948287682456555871-6459709431613188103?l=wintersdiaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/feeds/6459709431613188103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2010/02/dinosaur-adventures.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/6459709431613188103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/6459709431613188103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2010/02/dinosaur-adventures.html' title='Dinosaur adventures'/><author><name>Winter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04876828961266361792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoHA49zFWOI/AAAAAAAAAAg/L99G6DyUtTw/S220/IMG_3998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948287682456555871.post-3060100814156731093</id><published>2010-01-28T14:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-08T14:02:28.424-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mittens</title><content type='html'>Once there was a little girl named Bella. She was playing in the snow and she was wearing mittens. While she was playing, her mittens fell off her hands. Then something mysterious happened to the mittens. They came alive! They ran away quickly, up a tree. When they got to the top, they saw a caterpillar. He was a very friendly caterpillar. The mittens asked him how to get to the junkyard. He told them the way. So the mittens went the way the caterpillar had told them, but ended up in someone elses house. So they went back outside, and walked to New York City. They saw many things like the statue of liberty and Chinatown. They went into a restaurant in Chinatown, where they ate a hot tamale and noodles. When they were full, they went back to the little girl. Then, they were not alive anymore!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948287682456555871-3060100814156731093?l=wintersdiaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/feeds/3060100814156731093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2010/01/mittens.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/3060100814156731093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/3060100814156731093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2010/01/mittens.html' title='Mittens'/><author><name>Winter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04876828961266361792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoHA49zFWOI/AAAAAAAAAAg/L99G6DyUtTw/S220/IMG_3998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948287682456555871.post-3581432285059086910</id><published>2010-01-05T16:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-08T18:21:33.895-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Baptism</title><content type='html'>I was Baptized on January 2nd, in the Wylie 2nd ward. I wanted to get baptized with my friend and 2nd cousin Lille. She's like my sister. Aunt Barbara and Uncle Bill were there. Matt and aunt Katy Morphis were there too. Grace was also there. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/S3CG-iGW0nI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/M9FkLEfbJbA/s1600-h/IMG_6298BWweb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435993159099667058" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/S3CG-iGW0nI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/M9FkLEfbJbA/s400/IMG_6298BWweb.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/S3CG_Jk-k5I/AAAAAAAAAFY/Z_VAaqPSG-Y/s1600-h/IMG_6304web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435993169697084306" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/S3CG_Jk-k5I/AAAAAAAAAFY/Z_VAaqPSG-Y/s400/IMG_6304web.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;The dress that I got baptized in, is a nightgown that my mom made for me. The other white dress that I wore before and after I got baptized, had a stripe of colors. My grandma got that dress for me.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/S3CKUOb3SOI/AAAAAAAAAFw/c5NEOBIoDnQ/s1600-h/IMG_6295.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435996830313171170" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/S3CKUOb3SOI/AAAAAAAAAFw/c5NEOBIoDnQ/s400/IMG_6295.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;For the service, we were in the chapel. Great grandma Helen, grandma Ashurst, and Uncle Bill Benac talked at the microphone (actually not Liz, she directed the music). They talked about what we were going to do after we got baptized. That we should be nice, and help others. We should be nice to our enemies, and help them do things like; if they don't know math, we can help them with it, and how to do it. Aunt Barbara played the piano. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/S3CG_fR4WkI/AAAAAAAAAFg/iVldKo4t0I4/s1600-h/IMG_6333web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 313px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435993175522564674" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/S3CG_fR4WkI/AAAAAAAAAFg/iVldKo4t0I4/s400/IMG_6333web.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;All my cousins that were there went up on the stage, to sing a song. "When Jesus Christ was baptized". That's what we all sang. Some other people talked (the bishop), and then I got baptized. &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I got baptized in a tub of water. Dad said the prayer, and then he pushed my hand, and I bent my legs. Then he dunked me under and pulled me back up. I had to dunk under water 3 times, because my dad messed up on the prayer. Then I said to my mom: "But now I am a member of Lille's church!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;After I got baptized, it was Lille's turn to get baptized. She slid unto the floor, and stayed straight as a board. Then she got out, and we went back into the chapel. We sang some songs. Some men put their hands on my head, and I was confirmed a member of the Church of Jesus (what is our church called????) ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My favorite part was when he dunked me under, because the water was warm, and it felt good. Now that I am baptized, I can return to Jesus Christ and Heavenly Father when I grow old.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;My Testimony:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know this Church is true. Joseph Smith was a true prophet. Gordon B Hinckley was also a prophet. Everybody can be baptized when they're 8, or older. We can all return to Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ, if we obey His commandments. We should all read our scriptures every morning and night that we can. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the name of Jesus Christ Amen&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948287682456555871-3581432285059086910?l=wintersdiaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/feeds/3581432285059086910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2010/01/my-baptism.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/3581432285059086910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/3581432285059086910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2010/01/my-baptism.html' title='My Baptism'/><author><name>Winter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04876828961266361792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoHA49zFWOI/AAAAAAAAAAg/L99G6DyUtTw/S220/IMG_3998.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/S3CG-iGW0nI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/M9FkLEfbJbA/s72-c/IMG_6298BWweb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948287682456555871.post-497905899539431696</id><published>2009-12-31T12:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T12:25:43.781-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Turning 8</title><content type='html'>I was waiting a long time to turn 8. Finally I got there. I was happy, because I got lots of presents. A lot of people were there to look at my presents. One of my uncles, Josh, missed my birthday party. He had to go home, and take care of his dog Jack. He is a fun dog. Jack left 2 days before I was 8. I had the best birthday party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had my birthday party at my grandma's house. I got a purse made out of a little pair of pants from mom. I also got a pearl necklace, bracelet, and earrings from Kelly. Sterling gave me some littlest pet shops. I like them. My grandma gave me a build-a-bear card that had $50 on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the mall with my grandma. She was holding my card for me. We were having &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;a little&lt;/span&gt; bit of trouble finding the store, but we found it. I made a dog. It was white and brown. I picked out a big bed for her, and pink clothes. The skirt had a bow. The shirt had "Texas" on it, out of sparkles. They also gave me free bows for her ears and tail. They were red, green, and 2 light pink bows. I named my dog Sparkler.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grandma and I looked around the mall, because there were lots of other stores in the mall. We got to go on escalators. That was fun. I took my dog for a walk around the mall. My grandma took lots of pictures of me.  Grandma put me over a fence that was closed , and told me to stand &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;by&lt;/span&gt; the Christmas tree. There we presents under the tree, but they were not real. There were big BIG ornaments on the tree. I also got to see the chair that Santa sat in. Then we went outside, it wasn't very cold outside. We got in the car, and my grandma almost forgot to go to the store to get a cake, but I reminded her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got a cake that had rings on the sides that were shaped like flowers. There were 8 candles on the top. The frosting was really frosty! It even said on the top: "Happy Birthday Winter". I opened the presents before we ate cake. I ate the cake after my presents, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;because&lt;/span&gt; I wanted to open my presents first. I love presents. I love the cake too. There was lots of frosting! And you know, I like frosting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We stayed at my grandma's house for a long time. I almost forgot about my own house. As soon as we were on the road, I remembered my house. When we got home, we played a new &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Wii&lt;/span&gt; game, that I got for my birthday. But it was a little to hard, so we started playing Super Mario Brothers. There were lots of games, but they were really hard. My mom and dad were the best at them. They played more than us. But that was &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;okay&lt;/span&gt;, because I like watching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a great Birthday because I had the best day of my life!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948287682456555871-497905899539431696?l=wintersdiaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/feeds/497905899539431696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2009/12/turning-8.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/497905899539431696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/497905899539431696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2009/12/turning-8.html' title='Turning 8'/><author><name>Winter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04876828961266361792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoHA49zFWOI/AAAAAAAAAAg/L99G6DyUtTw/S220/IMG_3998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948287682456555871.post-2585844088298052886</id><published>2009-11-30T21:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-01T21:49:41.094-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Soap</title><content type='html'>Once there was a bar of soap just lying in the sink. Five seconds after somebody washed their hands the soap bar came to life. He climbed up and out of the sink. He jumped off the counter and hit the floor. When he did, a corner of the soap broke off, but he did not mind it. He just got up, and went into the living room. It was very dark. He started to get sleepy, so he went into a big bedroom. He saw a small bed. He ran and ran until he got there. He got into the little bed, and he slept all night. In the morning, he heard footsteps, so he got out of bed and went to the front door. Just then somebody opened the door. As the person went outside, the soap went out. He walked around the city. He was having a great time, when he slipped and broke another piece off. He didn't mind it though. He just got up, and kept on going. Then he got tired of the city, so he went to Plano and went into an office. It was dark and spooky. He was very scared, but he kept on going. Just then, the lights turned on, and the soap went and hid. The person just got some papers and left. But she forgot to turn the light off and shut the door, so the pack of soap was not scared at all. He kept on walking. Then he went into another room, and the lights were on. In that place there was a desk and a lamp, and it also had candy. Here were the types: gum, gummy bears, hershey bars and snickers. He got on the desk, and took a piece of gum. He ate it, and jumped off the desk. Just then, he saw a little chair. So he ran to it, and climed on and took a nap. When he woke up, he got out of the chair, and went into a crazy room. It had crazy stuff. The room was upside down, and it was filled with candy that was alive. There was a candy cane sleeping on the roof. There were dancing blocks. The soap was amazed. He started to dance with them. Pretty soon it was night time, but he was having too much fun to even sleep. So he danced the night away. The End.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;~Second Grade Creative Writing Story 5&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948287682456555871-2585844088298052886?l=wintersdiaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/feeds/2585844088298052886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2009/11/soap.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/2585844088298052886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/2585844088298052886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2009/11/soap.html' title='The Soap'/><author><name>Winter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04876828961266361792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoHA49zFWOI/AAAAAAAAAAg/L99G6DyUtTw/S220/IMG_3998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948287682456555871.post-7830233663630478263</id><published>2009-11-17T21:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-24T18:43:22.216-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Turkey and the Feast</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;It was Thanksgiving day, and turkey was getting ready. On his morning walk, he saw racoon. He asked her this: "Can I invite you to my feast?" "OK" said the racoon, so on they walked in cold air. They they saw a big bird, and the racoon asked him if he wanted to come to turkey's feast. "OK".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 324px; height: 223px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/S10EspHsgjI/AAAAAAAAAFI/RRJ6qtvYBGU/s400/1.On-Walk.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430501890677572146" /&gt; So they went back home and started to cook. They carefully followed turkey into his kitchen. They blindfolded the turkey because they secretly wanted him to be the dinner. They made him walk up the stairs, to go into the oven. He went in and they slammed the door shut.&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 324px; height: 163px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/S10EsQv0u7I/AAAAAAAAAFA/KtN7y3WYvus/s400/2.The_Push.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430501884134996914" /&gt; Fifteen hours later they go check on the turkey. When they open the oven door the turkey is inside. He is laying peacefully. &lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 324px; height: 204px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/S10EsUDaLeI/AAAAAAAAAE4/ignLlInh6uo/s400/3.WaitingByOven.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430501885022449122" /&gt;The racoon touches him gently to see if he is dead or alive. The turkey's eye pops open and he says: "You forgot to preheat!" Happy Thanksgiving!&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 324px; height: 364px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/S10EsLzTy2I/AAAAAAAAAEw/qwhIywkYfQc/s400/4.Laughing_in_oven.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430501882807438178" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;~Second Grade Creative Writing Story 4&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Illustrated by &lt;a href="http://www.anniepoon.com"&gt;Annie Poon&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948287682456555871-7830233663630478263?l=wintersdiaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/feeds/7830233663630478263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2009/11/turkey-and-feast.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/7830233663630478263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/7830233663630478263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2009/11/turkey-and-feast.html' title='The Turkey and the Feast'/><author><name>Winter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04876828961266361792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoHA49zFWOI/AAAAAAAAAAg/L99G6DyUtTw/S220/IMG_3998.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/S10EspHsgjI/AAAAAAAAAFI/RRJ6qtvYBGU/s72-c/1.On-Walk.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948287682456555871.post-4450899433247740117</id><published>2009-11-10T21:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-02T05:53:37.275-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Leafs</title><content type='html'>Once upon a time there were some leafs that were falling. Two of them came alive. When they did, they grew legs and arms. One leaf said: "When we get on the ground, lets walk around in the city." "OK", said the other leaf. So when they hit the ground, they started to walk to the city. When they were in the city, they looked around and they saw people. One of the leafs said, "come on, lets go to a big building". "OK", said the little leaf, and so they went to a big building. When they did, someone stepped on them, and that was the end of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;~Second Grade Creative Writing Story 3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948287682456555871-4450899433247740117?l=wintersdiaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/feeds/4450899433247740117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2009/11/leafs.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/4450899433247740117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/4450899433247740117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2009/11/leafs.html' title='Leafs'/><author><name>Winter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04876828961266361792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoHA49zFWOI/AAAAAAAAAAg/L99G6DyUtTw/S220/IMG_3998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948287682456555871.post-6246099791722380540</id><published>2009-11-03T21:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-02T05:54:50.115-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Spider</title><content type='html'>Once there was a huge spider. He was walking around the woods, and he saw a huge tree. He wondered if there were even more spiders in the tree. So he thought for a few minutes, and then he got so curious that he started to climb the tree. When he got to the top of the tree, all he saw was a little owl. The owl started to scare the huge spider, so the spider started to climb down the tree. As he was going down the tree, he saw a fluffy caterpillar. He said: "Why are you rushing?" "Because there is an owl that was scaring me. Why... because my uncle Fern got killed by an owl. And... I do not want to die". He started to walk down the tree some more, and then he was safe. The End.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;~Second Grade Creative Writing Story 2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948287682456555871-6246099791722380540?l=wintersdiaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/feeds/6246099791722380540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2009/12/spider.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/6246099791722380540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/6246099791722380540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2009/12/spider.html' title='The Spider'/><author><name>Winter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04876828961266361792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoHA49zFWOI/AAAAAAAAAAg/L99G6DyUtTw/S220/IMG_3998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948287682456555871.post-6918097923403052467</id><published>2009-11-01T21:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-02T05:56:10.634-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Cat and the Bubbles</title><content type='html'>Once there was a cat named Pinky. She had some bubbles. One time Pinky was playing with her bubbles and the bubbles came to life. They jumped out of the cat's hands and they tripped over a rock. The bubbles went inside and messed up my megaroom. By the time I got there, he was in the megabathroom. And when I got there, the pack of bubbles was up on the megaroof. Then he left, and the next day he came back. This time he came with a big machine and it was called the Zipacarda. It had 5067 arms and it almost drove over the cat, but she got out of the way. The pack of bubbles cleaned everything he had made a mess of. The cat said: "Thank you for cleaning this big mess". The pack of bubbles was never heard of ever again. The End.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;~Second Grade Creative Writing Story 1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948287682456555871-6918097923403052467?l=wintersdiaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/feeds/6918097923403052467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2009/10/cat-and-bubbles.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/6918097923403052467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/6918097923403052467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2009/10/cat-and-bubbles.html' title='The Cat and the Bubbles'/><author><name>Winter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04876828961266361792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoHA49zFWOI/AAAAAAAAAAg/L99G6DyUtTw/S220/IMG_3998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948287682456555871.post-5909486677900677607</id><published>2009-10-31T07:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-31T08:39:14.379-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rat Snake</title><content type='html'>This is my dad who is pretty funny and one time he caught a rat snake. I hope you do not scream&lt;br /&gt;when you hear this. The rat snake spit out a rat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SuxQkd401dI/AAAAAAAAAEA/MeFTs8Ny3Ew/s1600-h/DSCN3667.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SuxQkd401dI/AAAAAAAAAEA/MeFTs8Ny3Ew/s320/DSCN3667.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398778640738866642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948287682456555871-5909486677900677607?l=wintersdiaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/feeds/5909486677900677607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2009/10/rat-snake.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/5909486677900677607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/5909486677900677607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2009/10/rat-snake.html' title='Rat Snake'/><author><name>Winter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04876828961266361792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoHA49zFWOI/AAAAAAAAAAg/L99G6DyUtTw/S220/IMG_3998.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SuxQkd401dI/AAAAAAAAAEA/MeFTs8Ny3Ew/s72-c/DSCN3667.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948287682456555871.post-2736483992047585456</id><published>2009-09-02T14:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T15:09:05.698-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The cat of the day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/Sp7ptLeCT_I/AAAAAAAAADw/K3jDuHMzMZA/s1600-h/DSCN3533.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/Sp7ptLeCT_I/AAAAAAAAADw/K3jDuHMzMZA/s320/DSCN3533.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376991967509106674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I love the cat that I took a picture of because it is a cute cat. I like his tail, because it is so soft. I like his eyes too, cause they're green. And I like green. I love the cat the best. I like the colors on its fur.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cat likes to run around and when I come home from school, it comes to me, and wants me to pet it. Sometimes he is cuddling up with the littler cat that we have.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/Sp7s2q5XADI/AAAAAAAAAD4/mrWzrgqat2A/s1600-h/DSCN3630.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/Sp7s2q5XADI/AAAAAAAAAD4/mrWzrgqat2A/s320/DSCN3630.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376995429098913842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The cat does not like to get wet. I like it soo much that I want it to be my pillow, because it is so fuzzy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really know his name. When we got him, he had gooey stuff by his eye. It took a while to get it all off of his eye. But now he's grown up, and it's all gone away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948287682456555871-2736483992047585456?l=wintersdiaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/feeds/2736483992047585456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2009/09/cat-of-day.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/2736483992047585456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/2736483992047585456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2009/09/cat-of-day.html' title='The cat of the day'/><author><name>Winter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04876828961266361792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoHA49zFWOI/AAAAAAAAAAg/L99G6DyUtTw/S220/IMG_3998.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/Sp7ptLeCT_I/AAAAAAAAADw/K3jDuHMzMZA/s72-c/DSCN3533.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948287682456555871.post-2263269848736456274</id><published>2009-08-24T15:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T16:05:47.538-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Second Grade</title><content type='html'>Mom came back yesterday. It was lots of fun to see her in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was the first day of school.  I am in second grade right now. I love second grade a lot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SpMbozIW5XI/AAAAAAAAADY/NZhYerIemrM/s1600-h/IMG_4272.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SpMbozIW5XI/AAAAAAAAADY/NZhYerIemrM/s400/IMG_4272.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373669168117114226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We learned about a Ven-diagram. It is when you can put something, like a circle or triangle, together and one is at the bottom, and the other one on top of the other one, halfway. (like the circles on the olympic games logo)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like my new teacher. Her name is Ms Garner. She is the best second grade teacher I have ever met. I like her because she is nice to us.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SpMbp_avXXI/AAAAAAAAADo/Bv33rv7He5M/s1600-h/msgarner.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 304px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SpMbp_avXXI/AAAAAAAAADo/Bv33rv7He5M/s400/msgarner.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373669188595309938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The first day of school didn't seem too long to me. We had to do things that made the day seem shorter. We played with play-doh, and colored. And we put all of our stuff away, like our crayons, markers, and our pencils.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of my friends who are in my class, were also in my class last year. One of them is name Annie, Danna, Cameron, and Idreas. There are 15 kids in my class. Cameron, Annie, and Derin are sitting at my table.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SpMbpSyxBdI/AAAAAAAAADg/EHAo9ZIEC5U/s1600-h/IMG_4275.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SpMbpSyxBdI/AAAAAAAAADg/EHAo9ZIEC5U/s400/IMG_4275.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373669176616486354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948287682456555871-2263269848736456274?l=wintersdiaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/feeds/2263269848736456274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2009/08/second-grade.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/2263269848736456274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/2263269848736456274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2009/08/second-grade.html' title='Second Grade'/><author><name>Winter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04876828961266361792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoHA49zFWOI/AAAAAAAAAAg/L99G6DyUtTw/S220/IMG_3998.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SpMbozIW5XI/AAAAAAAAADY/NZhYerIemrM/s72-c/IMG_4272.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948287682456555871.post-5877228853585240079</id><published>2009-08-23T09:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T15:34:31.272-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Farm day's</title><content type='html'>We go swimming almost every day in the lake. our new boat is dirty but we still like it...... &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;mom is on a trip to Utah right now but that is ok because were having a fun anyway&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;once I thought I was going to fall  off the four-wheeler but I didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948287682456555871-5877228853585240079?l=wintersdiaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/feeds/5877228853585240079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2009/08/farm-days.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/5877228853585240079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/5877228853585240079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2009/08/farm-days.html' title='Farm day&apos;s'/><author><name>Winter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04876828961266361792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoHA49zFWOI/AAAAAAAAAAg/L99G6DyUtTw/S220/IMG_3998.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948287682456555871.post-8454016416150206388</id><published>2009-08-17T18:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T18:59:12.732-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Days in the Lake</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This boat is new and we are riding in it today.  I hope that tomorrow we get to go in the boat again.  It is a great boat.  The boat is in the middle of our lake.  I am having lots of fun because you can dive off of it.  I like how the water feels in the lake.  It feels like you are in a tub of bubbly water.  I don't like to swim in the seaweed so I stay near the boat where there is no seaweed because in the middle there is not very much seaweed.  There's lots of seaweed by the sides of the lake.  My dad, Sterling and my sister Ginger went in the boat and took a little ride.  Justin (our dog) came too.  With Justin it was a lot of fun because we got to pet him and we got to do lots of things with him.  I like diving off the edge of the boat.  Ginger and Sterling wore lifejackets, but me and my dad didn't because Ginger and Sterling don't know how to swim that well.  Sometimes I used floaty toys because sometimes I might have drowned and I just threw it in the lake so that if I needed it I could just swim over and get it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is a picture of me.  My dad took the picture.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SooG3548kGI/AAAAAAAAADQ/VtfgQWVSxjU/s1600-h/DSCN3608.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SooG3548kGI/AAAAAAAAADQ/VtfgQWVSxjU/s400/DSCN3608.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371113063094980706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SooGrgwziDI/AAAAAAAAADI/-C1CIjunkR8/s1600-h/DSCN3607.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SooGrgwziDI/AAAAAAAAADI/-C1CIjunkR8/s400/DSCN3607.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371112850191517746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I took a picture of my dad, Sterling and Ginger while they were in the water.  The dock is behind them if you look closely.  There is land and some seaweed too.  And if you look close enough you might see what holds the boat onto the truck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SooGrIFJspI/AAAAAAAAADA/7SP4CRaYlDI/s1600-h/DSCN3606.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SooGrIFJspI/AAAAAAAAADA/7SP4CRaYlDI/s400/DSCN3606.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371112843565970066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There is Sterling chasing my dad.  He likes to chase him in the water sometimes - lots of times he gets him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SooGqXL0ufI/AAAAAAAAAC4/CWqDE2I9PL0/s1600-h/DSCN3605.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SooGqXL0ufI/AAAAAAAAAC4/CWqDE2I9PL0/s400/DSCN3605.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371112830440618482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There is my dad's big splash.  I know you can see Ginger in the picture, but that is OK because she is cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SooGpzBjJuI/AAAAAAAAACw/Mjhvk7dOdgE/s1600-h/DSCN3604.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SooGpzBjJuI/AAAAAAAAACw/Mjhvk7dOdgE/s400/DSCN3604.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371112820733847266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My dad took this picture and you can even see the ducks and the goose.  Me, Ginger and Sterling were in the picture.  As you can see, the ducks and the goose are in the seaweed.  Behind the goose there is a big tree .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SooGpdNxSOI/AAAAAAAAACo/sBO21Ykl_B4/s1600-h/DSCN3603.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SooGpdNxSOI/AAAAAAAAACo/sBO21Ykl_B4/s400/DSCN3603.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371112814879525090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SooGMGLnPHI/AAAAAAAAACg/i52CEjYpltE/s1600-h/DSCN3602.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SooGMGLnPHI/AAAAAAAAACg/i52CEjYpltE/s400/DSCN3602.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371112310480256114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There is me and Sterling in the water.  My dad took this picture and it looks pretty good.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SooGLP2JaPI/AAAAAAAAACQ/CSeEjSXgjsU/s1600-h/DSCN3601+(1).JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SooGLP2JaPI/AAAAAAAAACQ/CSeEjSXgjsU/s400/DSCN3601+(1).JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371112295894706418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's Ginger.  As you can see, I am about to dive off the boat cuz that is my favorite thing to do.  I love to swim in the lake.  i think Ginger does too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SooGKaFCN7I/AAAAAAAAACI/RXNlFksVPVc/s1600-h/DSCN3599.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SooGKaFCN7I/AAAAAAAAACI/RXNlFksVPVc/s400/DSCN3599.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371112281461634994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There is me in the boat and Sterling is in the water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SooGJwrEtuI/AAAAAAAAACA/QaVT0xBbyTg/s1600-h/DSCN3597.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SooGJwrEtuI/AAAAAAAAACA/QaVT0xBbyTg/s400/DSCN3597.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371112270346893026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I like this boat alot.  It is so much fun.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948287682456555871-8454016416150206388?l=wintersdiaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/feeds/8454016416150206388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2009/08/days-in-lake.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/8454016416150206388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/8454016416150206388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2009/08/days-in-lake.html' title='Days in the Lake'/><author><name>Winter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04876828961266361792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoHA49zFWOI/AAAAAAAAAAg/L99G6DyUtTw/S220/IMG_3998.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SooG3548kGI/AAAAAAAAADQ/VtfgQWVSxjU/s72-c/DSCN3608.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948287682456555871.post-8919635277165420569</id><published>2009-08-11T15:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T16:39:17.625-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Swimming of the day</title><content type='html'>Today we went swimming we got wet and we  all had a lot of fun. we all played ball together it was&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as fun time for all of us. me, sterling, and ginger walked around the hot tub and in to the pool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                     it was the best time ever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoIA60ltPjI/AAAAAAAAABw/fhblJwpAnNc/s1600-h/DSCN3532.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoIA60ltPjI/AAAAAAAAABw/fhblJwpAnNc/s400/DSCN3532.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368854716328263218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoIA6jnUF0I/AAAAAAAAABo/1C1ZxCryLso/s1600-h/DSCN3530.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoIA6jnUF0I/AAAAAAAAABo/1C1ZxCryLso/s400/DSCN3530.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368854711771600706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoIA7UljXuI/AAAAAAAAAB4/MtmwIlKKW_s/s1600-h/DSCN3536.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoIA7UljXuI/AAAAAAAAAB4/MtmwIlKKW_s/s400/DSCN3536.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368854724917550818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948287682456555871-8919635277165420569?l=wintersdiaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/feeds/8919635277165420569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2009/08/swimming-of-day.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/8919635277165420569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/8919635277165420569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2009/08/swimming-of-day.html' title='Swimming of the day'/><author><name>Winter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04876828961266361792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoHA49zFWOI/AAAAAAAAAAg/L99G6DyUtTw/S220/IMG_3998.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoIA60ltPjI/AAAAAAAAABw/fhblJwpAnNc/s72-c/DSCN3532.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948287682456555871.post-672335334256526650</id><published>2009-08-11T12:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T13:10:50.660-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Brother</title><content type='html'>Sterling loves to be pirates.  sterling  loves to wear his hook and eye patch he is the  best brother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoHQLo_hY8I/AAAAAAAAABg/2aDyvSMLc3Q/s1600-h/DSCN3522.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoHQLo_hY8I/AAAAAAAAABg/2aDyvSMLc3Q/s400/DSCN3522.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368801129203327938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                  he is cool and great &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;some times  we play in the pool with sterling.  sterling is awesome&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948287682456555871-672335334256526650?l=wintersdiaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/feeds/672335334256526650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2009/08/my-brother.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/672335334256526650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/672335334256526650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2009/08/my-brother.html' title='My Brother'/><author><name>Winter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04876828961266361792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoHA49zFWOI/AAAAAAAAAAg/L99G6DyUtTw/S220/IMG_3998.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoHQLo_hY8I/AAAAAAAAABg/2aDyvSMLc3Q/s72-c/DSCN3522.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948287682456555871.post-8068043536075087540</id><published>2009-08-11T11:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T12:08:54.249-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pet Shops</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoG6WUQT4yI/AAAAAAAAAAM/c2ryTNUbAB8/s1600-h/DSCN3512.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoG6WUQT4yI/AAAAAAAAAAM/c2ryTNUbAB8/s400/DSCN3512.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368777123359351586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I took this picture of my pet shops today, with my new camera. The pet shops have their own home, and my favorite one is the wiener dog. The lizard is pretty fun too. One of the monkeys always falls down if you try make it sit. They are the only pet shops I have. They're really fun to play with too, because their house has a lot of fun stuff on it, like a skateboard. Sometimes I play games with my pet shops. And they're really good at playing, and they're lot of fun.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoHBuOD56nI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZIBiUOQZfWE/s1600-h/DSCN3513.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoHBuOD56nI/AAAAAAAAABI/ZIBiUOQZfWE/s400/DSCN3513.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368785230594959986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948287682456555871-8068043536075087540?l=wintersdiaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/feeds/8068043536075087540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2009/08/pet-shops.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/8068043536075087540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/8068043536075087540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2009/08/pet-shops.html' title='Pet Shops'/><author><name>Winter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04876828961266361792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoHA49zFWOI/AAAAAAAAAAg/L99G6DyUtTw/S220/IMG_3998.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoG6WUQT4yI/AAAAAAAAAAM/c2ryTNUbAB8/s72-c/DSCN3512.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948287682456555871.post-4777604161262381517</id><published>2009-08-11T11:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T12:36:30.497-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Farm</title><content type='html'>Hi my name is Winter and I live on a big farm and we have lots of animals. There are goats, 5 cows, chickens, ducks, and goose. My mom has a garden. In her garden she has squash and tomatoes, zucchini, and peppers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoHID60ObkI/AAAAAAAAABQ/3EWncXuVL3s/s1600-h/DSCN3514.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoHID60ObkI/AAAAAAAAABQ/3EWncXuVL3s/s400/DSCN3514.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368792200455810626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My dad works hard every day. Sterling and Ginger like to play with each other too. My mom is nice to each and every one of us. She is the best kind of mom anyone can ever have. She helps us sometimes, when we need help with our chores. Dad rides on the 4-wheeler with us, up to the goats and the cows, and we feed the pig and Justin. I think they're very happy after they eat.Justin's the best dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I read books, and sometimes I go swimming, because they're both my favorite thing to do. My favorite thing about swimming is that we have lots of diving sticks, and I can always dive in the pool to get them. I'm glad that Ginger knows how to swim now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes we even get to help dad work, which makes me happy. I like to jump on the trampoline, and go on the swing set. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoHIEWYYUaI/AAAAAAAAABY/uM6mk6pJ-yI/s1600-h/DSCN3518.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoHIEWYYUaI/AAAAAAAAABY/uM6mk6pJ-yI/s400/DSCN3518.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368792207855210914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Most of the time we do chores. I like the chores, because I get to pick them. What I don't like about my chores, is sometimes I have to clean the toilet. And the funnest chore to do, is to make my bed, and clean my room. My mom is the best.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948287682456555871-4777604161262381517?l=wintersdiaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/feeds/4777604161262381517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2009/08/our-farm.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/4777604161262381517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/4777604161262381517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2009/08/our-farm.html' title='Our Farm'/><author><name>Winter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04876828961266361792</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoHA49zFWOI/AAAAAAAAAAg/L99G6DyUtTw/S220/IMG_3998.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XCUbFhXJpMo/SoHID60ObkI/AAAAAAAAABQ/3EWncXuVL3s/s72-c/DSCN3514.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948287682456555871.post-7290177924151899649</id><published>2008-05-09T16:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-21T04:49:53.905-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My House</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 20px; "&gt;At home I play on my swing set, and my brother and sister play with me. When I play with my baby sister Ginger and my brother Sterling they are sort of nice.&lt;br /&gt;I like my house because it makes it so I don't get rained on. Every morning I eat breakfast, and I go to school. I love mom's lunch. I love mom's dinner. I eat my favorite food that my mom cooks.&lt;br /&gt;I love my family. I do Family Home Evening on Mondays. I watch movies sometimes, when mom is working on her computer.&lt;br /&gt;We have fun together at our new house, and we are trying to make it good. (renovations) We invite people to our house sometimes. I like to play with my mom and dad. My mom teaches me how to be nice.&lt;br /&gt;We have fun at this house playing with the goats and kittens. I hope my little tiny kittens will grow; some day they will be like their mother. We really like our animals a lot. Our dogs sometimes jump on us, then I smack them in the face.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948287682456555871-7290177924151899649?l=wintersdiaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/feeds/7290177924151899649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2008/05/my-house.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/7290177924151899649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/7290177924151899649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2008/05/my-house.html' title='My House'/><author><name>Winter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02944374416436475064</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6948287682456555871.post-189925114416507596</id><published>2008-05-08T16:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-21T04:45:42.543-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A day at school</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 20px; "&gt;My favorite thing at school today was playing outside. I played with Heidi. We played hide and go seek.&lt;br /&gt;My teacher's name is Ms Scott. "She bees nice to me every day". We have to do tests, and I don't like to do them.&lt;br /&gt;I had fun talking to my friends on the bus. "I have to sit on the bus for 12 hours I think, I'm not sure" (her bus ride is quite long: 45 minutes)&lt;br /&gt;My friend Angelic and I played together outside at school, during recess. I also went to the gym. We played basketball. I won the first and third game, but lost the second one.&lt;br /&gt;I saw a guinea pig in the nurse's office. It was in a little cage, running in his little wheel. Then I played with my bestest friends, Steven Key, Angel Luerda, Jacob Snotter, Heide Vibbort, and that's it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6948287682456555871-189925114416507596?l=wintersdiaries.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/feeds/189925114416507596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2008/05/day-at-school.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/189925114416507596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6948287682456555871/posts/default/189925114416507596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wintersdiaries.blogspot.com/2008/05/day-at-school.html' title='A day at school'/><author><name>Winter A</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02944374416436475064</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
