It seems like I had something really inspired to blog about this morning, but I didn’t write it down, so, of course, I’ve forgotten.
In lieu of that inspiring bit of whatever it was, I’ll treat you to a story Elijah wrote in language arts today:
Once upon a time, there was a nice family living together. One night, Joey was walking home when he suddenly saw an alien ship invading from outer space. He never saw an alien ship before. He was excited to see an alien ship. Then Joey saw the alien ship kidnap two people, one from his house and one of the neighbors. Then, the alien ship landed and then the aliens came out. And then, he was interested and not scared. Then, also his father had never seen an alien ship ever. Then the son told his father. And then he looked outside the window. And then he was also interested when he saw the alien ship there. Then the aliens took off and flew around the city; and then, at the airport, landed on a runway. Then they had a plan to trap the aliens. He planned to make a ground trap, kind of like a gun; except it shot kind of like an arrow and little grapple-hook thingies and then it pulled the alien ship down. Then, after the aliens were down on the earth, then he went outside and got the trap ready. And then the alien ship appeared again. Then he put many grapple hooks in the gun and shot all of them up at the alien ship. And they were also connected together. And then, they got it to come down. And then, the aliens came out. And then they shot grapple hooks at the aliens to tie them up, and then they lived happily ever after. The end.
This is a surprisingly non-violent piece of writing by my first grader. Which reminds me of what I think I was going to blog about. It wasn’t that inspired. It was about the other story that he wrote today.
Well, actually he didn’t write it. It was an activity where we took turns telling a story. I would give a few sentences of the story, leave off at some dramatic point, where he would pick it up and give it a few twists of his own, and so on. I started the story innocently enough; it was about a girl named Jenny and her missionary father traveling by canoe down a river in South America to visit another missionary family. I did introduce the mild trauma of a hole in the boat that required some bailing. Then Elijah had his turn. For a while, the story was progressing nicely. Somewhere, however, it took a dark turn. By the end of the story, there were 13 Indians hacked to death by Jenny’s dad’s machete. Jenny’s father himself lay in a pool of blood on the trail with an Indian spear in his chest. I swear that we do monitor what our sons watch on TV; I think this stuff is innate in them. I don’t remember any Mickey Mouse Clubhouse episodes with that exact plot line.
On a brighter note, I ran across a few more familiar lines in Alexander Pope today, especially in “Eloisa to Abelard.” First, there was “Thy eyes diffused a reconciling ray/And gleams of glory brightened all the day,” which inspired a line in Charles Wesley’s “And Can It Be.” Then, about 50 lines later, “How happy is the blameless vestal’s lot!/The world forgetting, by the world forgot:/Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!” And then, in Epistle I of “Essay on Man,” “Hope springs eternal in the human breast:/Man never is, but always to be blest:/The soul, uneasy and confined from home,/Rests and expatiates in a life to come.” As Tiffany commented, “This man is a poet’s poet.” I don’t really consider Alexander Pope a household name, but I’m beginning to think the number of his maxims that have entered modern conversation rivals that of Shakespeare.