Susanna Leonard Hill's ValenTINY Contest - Grumpily Yours

It's almost Valentine's Day--time for love and hearts and flowers and cards and Susanna Leonard Hill's annual ValenTINY contest.

Story requirements?
❤ Be written for children
❤ Have a Valentine theme
❤ Contain a character who is hopeful
❤ Be no more than 214 words long

Easy-peasy.

Nope.

But fun. Give it a try. Just make sure it's in by Valentine's Day. And only 214 words. :)

Grumpily Yours
214 words

Miss Springtide chirped cheerily.  “Today we’ll create coffers of cordiality, crates of consideration…”

Crickets.  

“We’re making Valentine’s mailboxes.”

“Ohhhhhh.”  Her students smiled.  

Except Vern.

“Gross,” he grouched.  

“Utilize your superior skills to appraise the dimensions of your receptacles to ensure felicitous fits,” Miss Springtide directed.

Crickets.  

“She means measure so your paper fits,” Vern grumbled.

“Ohhhhhhh.”  They got busy, choosing cheery colors.  Vern chose grey.

“I hope no one gives me anything,” he muttered while measuring.

“I’m not giving anyone anything,” while cutting and complaining.

“Hmmph,” he groused as he glued.

All week, the class created their  cards.

Vern ignored the bustle but noticed when classmates delivered their creations.  

He grudgingly helped a few kids whose boxes were falling apart and those who forgot how to spell a word for their valentines.  

He started to hope they wouldn’t notice he hadn’t made any.

The day before Valentine’s, Vern asked Miss Springtide for paper.

“Indubitably,” she said.

On Valentine’s, the children dumped out their boxes and looked through their cards.  

The room quieted.

Vern felt his classmates’ eyes.    He looked up.  Each student held a beautiful card made with a rainbow of different-sized hearts.

“I hope you like them,” Vern said shyly, but meant “I hope you like me.”

Their smiles told him they did.

© Rebekah Hoeft February 2018

Edited:
Not a finalist but thanks for the fun, Susanna!

Writer Wednesday -- In Honor of a Snow Day

Winter Fun

Gloves and hat and boots and coat,

Loop a scarf around my throat.

Ready for cold winter fun,

Out we go to snow and fun.

Build a snow slide up so high,

Up we climb then down we fly.

Angels snowy dot the yard,

All around our fort they guard.

Watch for snowballs flying past,

Run and dive, be very fast.

Tromp inside, get warm, get dry. 
Back outside, there's more to try.

© August 2008 Rebekah Hoeft

Sweet Hopeful Hymns We Sing

Yesterday and the day before, I posted about Susanna Leonard Hill's Annual Holiday Contests.  Today, guess what?  I'm posting about Susanna Leonard Hill's Annual Holiday Contests. 

This entry was from last year's contest--a Twelve Days of Christmas-esque Christmas hymn homage.  Say that 12 times fast.

Again, not a winner.  Again, fun to write.

Sweet Hopeful Hymns We Sing

In the days before Christmas, sweet hopeful hymns we sing
Preparing for the Advent of Our King.

In the days before Christmas, sweet hopeful hymns we sing:
Come, Emmanuel
Preparing for the Advent of Our King.

In the days before Christmas, sweet hopeful hymns we sing:
Savior, Come
Come, Emmanuel
Preparing for the Advent of Our King.

In the days before Christmas, sweet hopeful hymns we sing
Lift Up Your Heads
Savior, Come
Come, Emmanuel
Preparing for the Advent of Our King.

In the days before Christmas, sweet hopeful hymns we sing
Hark the Glad Sound!
Lift Up Your Heads
Savior, Come
Come, Emmanuel
Preparing for the Advent of Our King.

In the days before Christmas, sweet hopeful hymns we sing
Come, Expected Jesus
Hark the Glad Sound!
Lift up Your Heads
Savior, Come
Come, Emmanuel
Preparing for the Advent of Our King.

In the days before Christmas, sweet hopeful hymns we sing
In the Bleak Midwinter
Once in David’s City
Come, Expected Jesus
Hark the Glad Sound!
Lift Up Your Heads
Savior, Come
Come, Emmanuel
Preparing for the Advent of Our King.

In the days before Christmas, sweet hopeful hymns we sing
Away in the Manger
In a Little Stable
In the Bleak Midwinter
Once in David’s City
Come, Expected Jesus
Hark the Glad Sound!
Lift Up Your Heads
Savior, Come
Come, Emmanuel
Preparing for the Advent of Our King.

In the days before Christmas, sweet hopeful hymns we sing
Oh Come All Ye Faithful
Joy to the World
Away in the Manger
In a Little Stable
In the Bleak Midwinter
Once in David’s City
Come Expected Jesus
Hark the Glad Sound!
Lift Up Your Heads
Savior, Come
Come, Emmanuel
Preparing for the Advent of Our King.

©2016 Rebekah Hoeft

Sneaky Snoop: A Cautionary Christmas Tale

Last year, Susanna Leonard Hill, blogger and author of the Punxsutawney Phyllis books (among others) hosted her 6th Annual Holiday Contest.  It was a challenge to write a children's story of 300 words or less using the basic concept of the 12 Days of Christmas.  

Super fun.  And challenging to use that form to tell an actual story.  In 300 words or less.  

Better than 250, which is this year's challenge.  You can find more info about this year's challenge here and my entry here.  Hurry if you want to enter--your story is due by 11:59 p.m. tonight!

This was one of my entries from last year-not a winner, but fun to write anyway.  Possibly hard to sing correctly.  Also, I should point out, 292 words---waaayyy under the word limit!  Though I might have been pushing it using whoopity-whoop as one word instead of two.

Sneaky Snoop: A Cautionary Christmas Tale

Ten days before Christmas, I snuck a sneaky snoop:
Found a gift that made me whisper, “Whoop!”

Nine days before Christmas, I snuck a sneaky snoop:
Bright bicycle!
T’was a gift that made me whoopity-whoop!

Eight days before Christmas, I snuck a sneaky snoop:
Yellow yo-yo!
Bright bicycle!
T’was a gift that made me whoopity-whoop!

Seven days before Christmas, I snuck a sneaky snoop:
Wooden slingshot!
Yellow yo-yo!
Bright bicycle!
T’was a gift that made me whoopity-whoop!

Six days before Christmas, I snuck a sneaky snoop:
SIX PAIRS OF SOCKS??!
Wooden slingshot!
Yellow yo-yo!
Bright bicycle!
T’was a gift that made me whoopity-whoop!

Five days before Christmas, I snuck a sneaky snoop:
New underwear.
SIX PAIRS OF SOCKS?!
Wooden slingshot!
Yellow yo-yo!
Bright bicycle!
T’was a gift that made me whoopity-whoop!

Four days before Christmas, I snuck a sneaky snoop:
Ugly scratchy sweater.
New underwear.
SIX PAIRS OF SOCKS?!
Wooden slingshot!
Yellow yo-yo!
Bright bicycle!
T’was a gift that made me whoopity-whoop!

Three days before Christmas, I snuck a sneaky snoop:
Rocks wrapped so nicely.
Ugly scratchy sweater.
New underwear.
SIX PAIRS OF SOCKS?!
Wooden slingshot!
Yellow yo-yo!
Bright bicycle!
T’was a gift that made me whoopity-whoop!

Two days before Christmas, I snuck a sneaky snoop:
Two lumps of coal.
Rocks wrapped so nicely.
Ugly scratchy sweater.
New underwear.
SIX PAIRS OF SOCKS?!
Wooden slingshot!
Yellow yo-yo!
Bright bicycle!
T’was a gift that made me whoopity-whoop!

The day before Christmas, I snuck a sneaky snoop:
Found a note from Mother,
It said, “You think you’re sneaky,
But you are not really.
Your gifts are all rehidden
Might not find them until
FIVE DAYS FROM NOW!!
It’ll be fun
Since you like
Hunting for your gifts
Merry Christmas, son! I love you, sneaky snoop!”

©2016 Rebekah Hoeft

Susanna Leonard Hill's 7th Annual Holiday Contest - Travelin' Blues

Susanna Leonard Hill, author, blogger, friend to the groundhog, and lover of chocolate, hosts a writing contest a few times a year at her blog.  I've entered a couple of them and find her challenges very...challenging.  Because there's a word limit.  A teensy-tiny limit.  

This year, her challenge is to write a children's story of 250 words or less centered around a holiday surprise.

250 words.  She thinks that is better than her Halloween challenge that was 100 words or less. 

Yes.  250 words is better than 100.  But still. Fitting a complete-ish story arc with a main character-ish into 250 words is a wee bit of a challenge.  

I  wrote and cut and felt cruel and my poor little story was screaming but I showed no mercy and did the necessary and ended up with a 250 word story.  Whew.  

Don't you feel inspired and full of Christmas cheer after that?

Happy Christmas.

Travelin' Blues

We’re travelers.  

Mom writes books about different cultures.  We’re home for a bit while we catch up with friends and school work.  Then -- off again!

The only time this is a problem is Christmas.  Every year, a new place.  I just want to be home.

This is how it goes before Christmas:

“Mama, can we go home for Christmas?”

“Not this year, Kels.  This year we’re going to [insert name of faraway country].”

And then we’re off. 

I’ve gotta admit we’ve been part of amazing Christmas celebrations.

When I was seven, fireworks and ice cream in Brazil:  spectacular!

Thirteen desserts in France.  YESSS!

A sauna on Christmas Eve in Estonia:    interesting?!

Last year, two Christmases.

Iceland in December:  books and pretty fried bread.  Perfection.

Ethiopia in January:  4:00 a.m. candlelight procession.  Intense.

This year, I’ve had it.  I wanna go home.

We’re in Australia.  I say, with grump:

“Mom.  Let’s go home for Christmas.”

She just gave a tired smile and kept typing.

Grrr.

Today we’re off to wherever we’re going.  Don’t care where.

We’re late, rushing to get settled with our flight standbys:  earbuds, neck pillows, books.  Mom pulls out a gift bag.

“Open it.”

I know it must be her buttering me up for another traveling Christmas. 

As the flight attendant says “...and then straight to the States,” I read the words “DTW” at the end of the printed itinerary that was in the bag.  Detroit.  Michigan.  Home.  Heaven on earth.

“Surprise,” Mom says quietly.

Best. Christmas. Ever.

©2017 Rebekah Hoeft

Edited:
I was a finalist!!  Out of the 10 finalists, I came in...10th.  

😁

I was very happy to recieve  a set of "What's the Story" cards from Susanna--thank you!!  

There's a desription and pictures of them on her site here.  You can order them by emailing her.  They would be great for classrooms or for writers who sometimes need a little push to get started.  My package also arrived with chocolate, because Susanna.  

Friday Fun...Except It's Saturday Again...And I'm Still Poeming About Breakfast Treats...So Maybe Sweet Saturday?!

Cinnamon Rolls
Last night
I dreamed
of sweet and buttery
and cinnamonny cinnamon rolls,
fluffy fragrant bites of bliss
to fill each crevice in my week-worn self
     --I know, I know:
     my tummy and true heart
     tangle terribly
     confusing culinary comfort with     
     healthy happiness.

And so
this morning
a slave to the sweet reward
of sugary buttery cinnamon solace,
     I sift and I measure
     and mix and knead
     and roll and slather
     and roll and slice
     and grease and place
     and rise
     and wait
     and bake
     and wait
and savor the smells
     of flour and butter and sugar
but not
     the cozy
     and comforting
     sweet and so spicy
     the dreamed of
     the thought of
     the absently-mindedly
     forgotten
     forsaken
     scent of the cinnamon.

©2017 Rebekah Hoeft

Friday Fun..Or Not...Because No Doughnut...Plus It's Saturday

Over at Jama's Alphabet Soup, she's talking about doughnuts.  Don't go there.  It's not delightfully doughnutty at all.

I've got muffins coming out of the oven in a minute, hot and surely yummy and smelling good but not nearly as tempting as a delicious doughnut would be.

Unfilled
I have this yearning:
   a gnawing
   a yawning
   a yelling;
   it's deep.

It shouts for
   those fulsome, superior sweets;
   for fine
   and so fatty
   and sugary treats.

Because like likes like,
this crevace needs a cruller.

A holey confection would fill me much  fuller;
   this abyss
   needs the kiss
   of sweet doughnut bliss.

©2017 Rebekah Hoeft

Friday Fun ~ 15 Words or Less ~ Wise Owl

It's Friday and it's gray and cool and damp and leaf lovely if you look in the right spots.

You could also say it's grey and cool and damp and drab because some of the leaves (a lot of the leaves) are a little sad looking--kinda crispy AND bedraggled, which doesn't seem possible to happen at the same time but I'm telling you that yes they can if you live in Michigan and it's been too hot for an October and then really rainy for a teensy bit and still really not very cool.  So you could say that if  you REALLY wanted to.

But I say find the color.  It's there.

Also, head over to the Laura Salas's page and try out her Fifteen Words or Less picture prompt today--a bright and colorful picture to brighten up your grey day.  Also there's an owl.  Who doesn't like owls? Besides mice, I mean.  It's a great way to jump start a poem idea.  Or write a nice and short complete poem.

Here's my little brainstorm; I really do feel like maybe owls may feel a little stressed.  So much wisdom expected of them when really they just want a snack: a tasty morsel of mouse or a flavorful hare.

15 Word or Less About a Horned Owl;
or Existential Owl Crisis;
or Owl Introspection
So much pressure
     to expound
I'm really
   not that wise--
I just want a mouse.

 ©2017 Rebekah Hoeft

Writer Wednesday ~ Spooked

Michelle, over at Today's Little Ditty, interviewed Carrie Clickard last week.  Carrie challenged the Today's Little Ditty readers to write a poem about a person, place, or thing that spooked you as a child.

There were PLENTY of things that spooked me as a child.  Basement stairs (oh, the shivers), a creaking house, shadows that looked like  shadows of evil but were actually shadows of coats, doors, toys, books...it was rough.  I sympathize with all the scaredy cats in the world because I was (AM) one of them.  Why be scared when you can be happy?!  I mean really--wouldn't you rather NOT have your heart thumping in fright?

Be sure to check out the other poems on Michelle's padlet, especially if you like spooky, creepy, heart-thumping poems.  I assume they are there.  I don't have the nerve to check.

Chores Are Fine. It's Fine. We're Fine.

On hard-packed, shaded, friendly road,

Our wheels were sure, we never slowed;

We moved in sync, with joy, we were a team.

We ventured farther down the lane,

Our goal a simple one to gain:

Avoiding chores at home was our sole scheme.

Our carefree ride was sweet but short 

For soon our habitat would thwart;

Our joyful jaunt was changed when past the stream

Our wheels found dusty washboard track;

We thought that we might double back 

As shade became a gloam; no sun did gleam. 

The houses took a cheerless turn,

The lawns were junkyards. Faces stern

We pressed on, moxie pushed to the extreme. 

With legs that shook and palms that sweat, 

We made it past that unkempt threat.

Our confidence the sunlight did redeem.

Now languid, rolling past a field

Our haste forgotten, jitters yield

To summer's warmth and ease but then our dream

Becomes a nightmare as a shriek

Is heard and heard again; we freak;

Our wheels they skid and legs run out of steam. 

But then we're supercharged with fright

For menace lurks just out of sight;

The farm with monstrous mischief-makers teem.

We peddle fast but tangle, THUD!

Our nerves are shot by curdled blood;

We race with dents and scrapes.  Relief supreme

When home is reached, our chores a sport 

We relish as to Mom report,

Who laughs (she gloats?!): "'Twas just a peacock's scream!"

©2017 Rebekah Hoeft

Miscellany Monday ~ How Now Brown Cow

My nephew was visiting this weekend (he very nicely brought along his parents and brother). 

We saw a cow.

He named it.

Nephew:  This cow is kinda light, like a mocha.  If I had her, I'd name her Moocha.

Ba-dum-dum.

Kids are funny.

Not Moocha.

Thankful Thursday ~ Fall Nights, Ice Cream, and Two Parts of My Heart

Thankful for a Saturday night:

A corn maze, not scary, at one of my favorite places, with some of my favorite people; a sunset that made me stop; and sitting on a rock in the cool dark eating ice cream with the two kids who have my heart