Monday 19 November 2012

Marsden Bay Camp Song


Marsden Bay Camp Song- written and performed by the parents at the 2012 senior camp


We drove to Marsden Bay Camp
Cool wind in our hair
Some managed to get lost
At least the food truck got here
The bags were heavy
And the mood was light
Soon it grew dark
And we settled in for the night.

There he stood in the doorway
We heard his whistle blow
We were thinking to ourselves
Was that Steel Thunder
Or something else?
Then along came Mrs Salt
She had to put her foot down
There were voices in the cabins
And she said, “Quieten down!”

Welcome to the Marsden BC Camp
Such a slidy place
A flying foxy place
There’s plenty of fun at the Marsden BC Camp
Any time of year
You can find it here

Kirsty made her debut
In the kitchen for the first time
She made an apple crumble
Of her own design
Despite missing a few ingredients
It tasted rather floury
And it was F_ _ _ _ ine!

Then we called to Sir Greg
Cook all the breakfasts
And he said “I wann Ambrosia Yeah!
We have it every year!”
And still those voices were calling
From every room
Wake you up in the middle of the night
And that’s just Anton snoring!

Welcome to the Marsden BC Camp
Such a kayaky place
Such a broken arrow place
Plenty of fun at the Marsden BC Camp
Any time of year
If we’re allowed back here

Microwave Mike nuked the butter
He made a butter bomb
And he swept up the broken plate
Better than any mum
Tracy forget her toiletries
But offered then to Donna as a friend
She started charging for blankets
She didn’t need ten in the end

Leanne brought her horse truck
And all her dress up clothes
She brought a bum, a wig and hats
But forgot the clown’s nose
“Relax,” said Steffania
There’s plenty of veg
As she admired Vanessa’s baby cow photos,  
On her mobile phone
Rebecca ditched the walk
And helped make chocolate pud
That needed mathematical calculations
But still tasted really good

Cathryn turned up late
So did Vanessa, Peg and Pete
Don’t they know camp starts on a Monday,  
Not later in the week
“That’s fine,” said Jeanette
I’ll write a funny play
That makes you all look like idiots
And then I won’t stay.

But Tracy wouldn’t be Katy
She’d rather be the bum
So Rebecca had to put on the blue wig
She thought it might be fun
Welcome to the Marsden BC Camp
Such a damper place
A cooking damper place
Plenty of fun at the Marsden BC Camp
Any time of year
Can we find our way outta here?





Friday 2 November 2012

Lamb chops

Our car slowly creeps down the bumpy driveway.  We look out the windows at Crusader's paddock.  We can usually spot him wandering around munching on what's left of the crispy dry grass.  But today the cheerful horse is not in his paddock.  Clip, clop, clip, clop. The sound of hooves on hard ground startles me.  I look to my right and see Crusader's wet nose poking out over the fence.  He watches our car come to a stop before the big red door of our Nana's barn.

I leap out of the car and run up the crumbling steps towards the ranch slider.  I push open the door, step inside and kick off my boots.  I explore the house and soon find the only one home is Tiger, my Nana's pesky cat.  "Out of the way", I say as I ran across the midnight blue carpet towards the back door.  I shrivel up my nose at the smell of fresh dog poo.  "Jimmy", I say as I dodge a pile of steaming poo.

I go back around the house, grab my shoes and run down to the gate that leads to the main paddock.  I look through the hole in the gate.  Boque, Crusader's crazy girlfriend is standing beside a black and white blob that looks about the size of a small car.  The blob makes the most annoying mooing sound possible and looks in my direction.  "Moo to you too you stupid cow", I say.

I leap over the gate not bothering to try and open the latch that is far too complicated for me.  I squeeze along the fence so the cow won't spot me.  A soft fluffy forehead that I believe belongs to Crusader brushes against my back.  "Crusader you are lovely company", I say as I push him away.  "But I don't want a cow charging me right now." I sneak the rest of the way to the shed not wanting to blow my cover.  I look over the wall and spot an inside out sheep lying on the concrete.

I drag my brother and sister to the barn and show them the sheep.  "Maybe Nana was going to eat it," said my blood thirsty brother.  "Nah" says Rebecca, "That's a little too out of date."  Rebecca, Sean and Mum soon get bored and look for something to make a model for the technology challenge.  I scramble over the wall to get a closer look at the the sheep and trip over something that feels like a sticking hurt my knee.  I look behind me and see that it's not a stick it's a cut off sheep leg.  I look back around and find I'm face to face with a second sheep.  But what makes it even more gross is it's brown shriveled up tongue is hanging out.
I walk back up to the house and sit in my poppa's chair.  Finally the day is over.

By Claire

Thursday 1 November 2012

The Singing Competition

Tingle, tingle went my tummy as Ty, Molly, Tobin and I steadily stumbled up the stairs at the singing competition.  I got more nervous as I sat down and I felt like I was going to explode like a bomb!  I took a quick peek at the timetable book and I was second to sing in the whole competition.  Thousands of things were going through my mind, just breathing was something I couldn't possibly do.

Behind the curtains I was hiding with the pianist waiting patiently for my turn to shine. (Ring Ling) I heard a bell.  It was time for my turn.  I walked in a suitable pace to where I stood in a graceful manner to sing.  I gave a little nod to the pianist to tell her I'm ready and she started playing. (Who's afraid of the big bad wolf?)  Half way through the song my butterflies slowly flew away and by the end of the song I was a silver star.

The applause was amazing and I grew a gentle smile and bowed to show my gratitude to the audience  and the pianist.  I then scurried off the stage to where I got lots of high fives and well dones from family and friends.  Now I know it's not so scary once I'd tried it.

Nothing at all worried me after my first song, only probably when Ty went up I was scared for her but she did really well with her singing.   I now feel very proud of myself of what I did and I can't wait till next year.

By Danni

Monday 30 July 2012

Holiday Poems

Our learning intention was to include descriptive words to describe the places we had visited or the events we had participated in during the holidays.

 
My Holiday at my poppas


The lime green grassy hills roll like waves over the peaceful farm.

The smell of sweet mildew melts like butter into the frozen air.

I hear the crunch, crunch, crunch of crispy grass under the hooves of sheep as they watch my every move.

I taste the fruity sweet Skittles that are clutched tightly in my hand.

I feel Sugars fluffy wet wool as she brushes past my leg.
School Holidays
By Claire

Cape Reinga

Tall, white, beautiful lighthouse
Waves crashing and smashing together
Squawking, shouting seagulls singing their songs
Oily fish and greasy chips on a Sunday night
Wet, cold morning grass
The top of New Zealand

By Rhianna


Hot pools
Clear water sparkling in the sun light
 Potent chlorine filling the air
Screams of people zooming down the slippery slides
Yummy snacks filling my tummy
Popping bubbles tickling my skin
Hot pools
By Darcie

Sunny holiday!!!
Well groomed ponies cantering through the waves.
Bait as smelly as rotten fish wafting through the air.
Squawking seagulls all around us.
Salty sea waterspluttering from our mouths.
Nipping crabs biting.
Beach fun!!!
By Saffy







Thursday 26 April 2012

Speed Date an Author Competion Entries

The following three pieces of writing were submitted for the above competition:

The Sheep and the Turkey

Early one foggy morning on a rough tussocky hill a little bored sheep lay in the grass. He wanted to do something fun and exciting rather than eat all day.
There was a lonely pine on top of the hill, and he had always wanted to explore it but his mother said it was too dangerous and too far away.
He was so fed up he didn’t care, so he set off to the pine tree.
He waded through boggy mud and scratchy grass up the hill until finally he stood in front of the tallest pine tree he had ever seen.
“What do you think you’re doing” came a voice from above, he looked up in surprise and nervously asked “w-w-what are you?”
“I’m a turkey,” replied the turkey, fluffing up his feathers importantly.
“I’ve never seen a turkey before. You must have an exciting life.”
The sheep thought the turkey was so full of colour and out-of-the-ordinary, with his long wobbly thing that came down from his throat, the amazing tail feathers, the weird gobbling noise that he made, and even that the turkey could fly intrigued him.
 As he trudged back down the hill, something caught his eye, a red rubber glove. “This looks like the dangly thing that the turkey has on his throat” he said aloud.
“Could I become a turkey?” he wondered.
The sheep set out for the pine tree very early the next morning with the red glove tied to his neck. On the way he collected feathers and made his own impressive tail fan. When he got there he asked the turkey, “Can I be a turkey with you?”
“No sorry, you don’t sound or act like a turkey” replied the turkey rudely.
So the sheep leant back against the pine tree thinking of how else he might become a turkey. “I could practice my gobbling,” he said to himself  “gobble, gobble, gobble!”
“No sorry, you still don’t act like one” the turkey said now with a tone of anger in his voice.
The sheep thought long and hard about how turkeys act. “Well they can fly, and they sleep high up in trees.” So he decided to try and sleep up in the tree.
He had trouble at first climbing up the coarse bark but after an agonising struggle he made it up just before sunset. Perched on a branch with all the other turkeys staring at him the sheep felt like he didn’t fit in. “I guess that will all change tomorrow when I fly,” he thought to himself.
The next morning when all the turkeys had flapped down from the tree, the sheep was precariously perched on the branch preparing to jump. He launched himself into the air. “I’m flying!” he shouted, then realised he wasn’t.
He woke up, sprawled on the ground, to the sound of raucous, laughing turkeys. He carefully picked himself up, staggered sheepishly down the hill, tripped over, and buried his face in grass. Sweet delicious grass!

Oskar

Samuel
Chunks of black fly everywhere. Explosions ring out again and again. I can’t see anything. Shrapnel clouds my vision. A large hunk of flying metal hits me square in the chest and I fall to the ground. I have the sense to crawl forward just as another giant piece of bomb remnant hits the spot where I was only a moment before. I crawl through the tattered undergrowth and land face first in the dirt. I fumble around in the earth and find a latch. What was it? Someone’s basement maybe? But of course anyone with my luck will know it will probably be locked. I tug the handle upwards with the little strength I have left and manage to drag myself inside the metal chamber. This is the luckiest day of my life. I have found a bomb shelter. The last things I am aware of are a group of faces surrounding me and the sound of the hatch grinding shut before everything goes black.
My eyes fling open and I sit bolt upright grabbing for my gun. I can’t find it. It should be there on my belt with my knife and my water. My water. It’s not there either. At least I still have my knife. It calms me a little to know I at least have one thing. Then it hits me. No one else is here. I specifically remember seeing a bunch of people. I stand up knife in hand then put my other hand on the wall to steady myself as a wave of dizziness hits me full force. I stumble around and finally find the hatch again. How long have I been out? I don’t know. It could be anywhere between one minute and one week. I am suddenly aware that my throat is as dry as a desert and reach for the flask I no longer have. I knew my luck wouldn’t last. So they strip me of my provisions and take off. What nice people. My arm drops and I plop onto the floor. I reach into my back pocket and take out a drawing. A green and brown bug is sitting in complete blackness while a red one is in an oval of light eating all the black. My son drew it. I smile shakily as tears start to roll down my ashen face. I will make it through this war. Whether it’s for my country or my family it doesn’t matter. I stand up again and push open the hatch. I jump out of the hole with newly found energy and look around. I was in a camp. My team had made base. I run to the commander’s tent and proudly bring my hand to my forehead to salute my officer. “Reporting for duty Sir” I say. “Who the hell are you?” This is the wrong base. I’m in the tent of my enemy. “I am Samuel Jhones. Remember me? I’m your killer” I say before slitting his throat.

Tamsyn

Luke's Story

“Are you sure we should do this?” asked Ryan, “I feel bad lying to Mum and Dad.”
“Trust me,” whispered Josh, “We’ll be fine. Mum and Dad think we’re at the park, they’ll never find out we came here. C’mon! If we find the emeralds we can move out of the shack we live in, and into a proper home.”
“I suppose,” sighed Ryan, “But we have to be quick.”
The two boys crept across the stony beach, to where the shipwreck of the old freight ship lay in the shallow water, not far from the shore. Its hull, once painted black, was now a dirty shade of rust.
“I doubt we’ll find anything,” muttered Ryan through chattering teeth as they waded through the freezing water. “I mean, how many people have searched this ship and came up with nothing?”
“I know,” Josh said, “But the legend says that on board this ship was a chest full of emeralds; however it ran into these rocks and none of the crew members were ever heard of again. If nobody has found the emeralds yet, they’re probably still on board the boat.”
The two boys clambered onto the front of the ship.
“C’mon,” urged Josh, “Let’s check the cabin first.”
The boys strode across the deck of the ship and stepped through the doorframe of the rusted cabin. After searching their surroundings for about forty five minutes the boys stopped for a rest.
“It’s hopeless” sighed Josh, “We’ve searched everywhere and there isn’t even a trace of anything valuable.”
The pair sat in silence and stared at the grimy painting on the wall opposite them. It must have been beautiful once, but was now faded and peeling.
“Wait a minute...” mumbled Ryan, walking over to the painting, “Does this look like an emerald to you?”  
“Yeah” replied Josh, “But it’s obviously painted on, it’s not like it’s real.” 
“I suppose,” murmured Ryan, tracing his finger over the emerald, “But could it mean anything?”
“Of course not,” scoffed Josh, “I don’t know why you get your hopes up over something so insignif-”
He was cut off by a loud rumbling noise. The wall with the painting on it began to part, revealing a hallway. At the end, the boys could see a wooden chest.
“Okay,” Josh said, “Maybe that emerald does do something.”
The two boys walked forward and gingerly opened the lid on the chest. Inside were dozens of glimmering emeralds.
Eagerly, Josh reached in and grabbed one.
The ship began to rumble again.
 “Run!” yelled Josh.
They both grabbed a fistful of emeralds and sprinted down the hallway, and onto the ship’s deck. They reached the railing and leaped over the side, just as the ship crumbled and disappeared into the violent waters below.
Josh opened the door to find their parents waiting for him.
“How was your evening at the park?” asked their Mum.
“Eventful,” laughed Ryan, “In fact, can we come inside? We have something to show you...”

Tuesday 13 September 2011

A Day To Remember

A Day to Remember

“Got the picnic bag?” I yell over my shoulder.
“Yes mas-ter,” Hugo, my annoying older brother replied robotically.
“And have you got the compass?” Archie frowned, mocking my stern question to Hugo.
I nodded, chuckling.  So in walking boots, with rugs, food and a compass, we set off into the thick bush.
Pushing past green leaves, heavy with raindrops, we soon came to the first clearing that we identified as ‘The Den.’

Archie was the first to wander over to his favourite tree-stump and plonk himself down. Hugo was the next but unfortunately his stump was wet and soon the boys were arguing about who should sit on which stump! I gave a chuckle glancing across to the pathetically fighting boys.
“Oh for pity’s sake!” I shout at last, blushing as I realised how much I sounded like a bossy mother, “We’ll be off again soon, so Hugo why don’t you sit on the ground, or Archie,” I put in.
“It’s wet,” they both groaned in chorus with each other, then laughed all over again.

Bored of the two, I got up, brushed my hands on the seat of my jeans, then carried on walking through the bush. The boys soon caught up with me, still laughing like a band of mad hyenas!  Finally Archie recovered from his hectic giggles but typically Hugo went way over the top and fell over with his laughing!  Unluckily for him, he fell right into a bush with spiky leaves and landed on the other side in a dark pit looking thing.  Now he wasn’t laughing.  But Archie and I were cracking up!!  As we bent down to haul him up, I heard a distant noise.
“Did you hear that?” I immediately asked. Both boys nodded, frozen with alarm.
“Could it possibly have been a horse?”
Both boys looked at each other.
‘Yes it could have been.’  I could see them thinking. ‘But they certainly didn’t want me chasing after wild horses!’
  “It can’t have been”, Hugo said at last.  “Not way out here.”
But reading their nervous expressions it was plain clear to me that they were just pretending. But surely horses aren’t way out here in the bush?
I quickly began darting dramatically round bends and following the whinnies.

As I continued struggling past stems, stumps, roots and more, the whinnies finally appeared to be closer.  I slowly approached a large fir tree, then put my head on one side and glanced between thick, slanting branches ….. standing there was a beautiful chocolate brown pony with amazing eyes. 
It looked as though she were smiling as she lowered her head, almost asking me to pat her. As I took a step back, she followed me. The beautiful filly kept nickering and trying to nuzzle me.
‘She’s probably been abused and now needs help.’
I thought while glancing at her crusty sores.
“Come with me beautiful,” I whispered. “You need my help. You need a permanent home.”

Lily

Feedback from the Judge
I think you got caught out on the word count.  Your characters are real, your setting has atmosphere.  There's the tension there and then you find the horse and then it's over.  I felt that the story was just the beginning.  I wonder if you might go on to write novels rather than short stories.  The novel might be ' your thing'!  Worth a try. You might want to keek working on this one. There's so much more to tell. Who owns the horse? Why has it been so badly treated? What are you going to do with it? Take it home? What if the owner comes looking for it? There's the danger you might get accused of stealing it. The brothers - how do they fit in with the story?
There is so much more to tell and I'd love to read more.
The Puffin theme could  work in so easily - you could call the horse Puffin!
Autographed copy of your novel, please!

Feedback provided by famous author Dawn McMillan.

Wednesday 25 May 2011

Character Descriptions - General and Specific

General

He was a jolly man with a jolly face, a jolly smile and a jolly belly. He has cheeks as red as roses, a snow white beard and a mop of silvery-white hair on top of his head. He only wore red, a red top, a red coat, red pants and a red hat with a perfect puffed pompom on top. He4 wore big black boots and his large stomach hung over his big black belt because he’s been eating too many cookies. All his clothes have a fluffy white lining and a big brown sack was hanging over his shoulder.

Specific

A cloud of ash appeared as he came barrelling down the chimney like a massive cannonball. A figure appeared in front of me. He ducked to avoid the low overhang of bricks as he climbed out of the fireplace, pulling a big brown sack out behind him. His belly seemed to fill the whole room. His face was blackened with ash but you could still see his cherry red cheeks bulging out from the rest of his face. He had small wrinkles at the edges of his mouth that told me he had been smiling a lot. He had a long white beard and a mop of hair the same colour. His bright eyes had a twinkle in them and stood out against the rest of his blacky-brown face. He put something down by the Christmas tree and headed for the chimney. He seemed to fly straight up to the top without touching the sides. The magic in the room was gone.  

Luke - Room 6

Saturday 30 April 2011

STORIES FROM ROOM 2

RATS
I was asleep and I heard six rats in my drawers.  I let them go.  I got a box.  I put the box in the drawers and the little rats ran out.  I put the box in the garden.  They went under the deck.  They went back in the box. 
When I went inside they went back inside.  I got them a drink.  They drank and drank.  I felt happy.

By Chevy
aged 5

RUGBY
I went to the rugby.  South Africa Cheetahs got 22.  The Blues won.  The Blues got 29. 
A big scarecrow came out of the dressing room.  Sparks came out of the back of the scoreboard. 
My day was happy.

By Loyd Clark
aged 6

BUSY  WEEKEND
I went to school.  We did some work.  Then school was finished. 
Me and Mum went to the disco.  We were the first people.  Then it was time to dance.  I was thirsty and I was hungry.  I got a lemonade and a crunchy bar.  Then the disco was finished.
On Saturday we went fishing with Dad and Kate and Tom and me.  We put the boat in the sea.  We had to go slowly out of the harbour.  Then we went fast and we put the long line out.  Then we went to have a fish.  We caught 22 fish.
On Sunday we invited Zeph.  I felt happy.

By Sid Drinkrow
aged 6


A  GOOD  IDEA
The animals were hot.  And Rhinoceros thought of an idea.
"I'm going to find a shady tree."
And Zebra thought of grass.
Then they found shade and they went to the tree.  But Warthog got there first.
And Rhinoceros finally got there.  Then there was no room.
Then Rhino used his butt to make some shade.

By Jett McKelvie
aged 5

ITCHY BITES
I hate itchy bites.  I scratched it. 
Mum said, "Just give it a little more time."
I felt sad.

By Scott van Bakel
aged 5

Wednesday 13 April 2011

IT WAS A DARK AND STORMY NIGHT ...BY CLAIRE KEVEN

It was a dark and stormy night, the wind howled through a crack in the house.
“I’m bored” said the Chief “Tell us a story”
“How about” said Antonio, “It was a dark and stormy night.  The wolves slowly crept up…”
“I don’t like wolves, why can’t it be a beach?” yelled the Chief.
“It was a sunny day” continued Antonio, “The seagulls squawked”
“Stupid seagulls” growled the Chief
“How about” started Antonio, “Delicious fruit dropped down from tall trees”
“Where’s the ice cream?” said the Chief
“Fine” said Antonio
“Once upon a time the Chief and Antonio where lying on the beach”
“What about the chairs?” said the Chief
“You’re getting really annoying” said Antonio. 
“Once upon a time Antonio and the Chief,” started Antonio “Were sitting on their chairs”
“I want a book” said the Chief
“For goodness sake” said Antonio,
“Once upon a time” started Antonio, “Three dragons came and ate the Chief.  The End!!”


Sunday 20 March 2011

Room 5 have been learning to write limericks.  We know a limerick has five lines, a pattern of rhyming and a pattern of rhythm.  It tells a story and could be funny.  We wrote some swimming sports limericks.

We went to college to compete
My limbs felt just like jelly meat
I dived into the pool
And it was very cool
I'm glad I had hot food to eat.
Nicky



As I sat on a step looking down
Wrapped in my towel like a gown
I felt terribly cold
I was not feeling bold
But at least I'm not going to drown
Lily


One day our school went for swim
I hit my head on a rim
I tried such a lot
To stop the plot
But the pain would not give in
Saffron


Tomarata School went for a splash
With lane ropes so they didn't crash
They had lots of fun
And when they were done
They all put their waste in the trash.
Tamsyn


One day our school went to the pool
It was oh so very cool
I quickly jumped in
To have a quick swim
Now I don't feel such a fool
Abbey


The starter guns were very loud
My friends were cheering and real proud
I jumped high like a jumping bean
My face showed I was not so keen
When I won I was in a cloud

Rosa