Quote Of The Day!

"Common looking people are the best in the world. That is the reason the Lord makes so many of them." ~ Abraham Lincoln


For once in my life, I have only one word to say.


"AMEN!"

*WARNING THIS POST CONTAINS THE DREADED WORD!!*

Algebra, yes the dreaded word. The dreaded subject. The dreaded everything else and the worst of all horrible school subjects. "It pierces my soul!!!"

He he, no, I'm not that bad, and that last quote is a joke. Just so everyone knows it's from Persuasion. Today I started Algebra I. Finishing Pre-Algebra with an A on the final test helps boost my confidence in my brain. But I know the actual Algebra will be harder, but I think I can do it. I don't know if every knew, but last fall I knew as much math as a fifth grader (no pun intended.) 7 months later (the present) I am now almost where I should be in math knowledge. I don't know quite how it happened. God must have done something to my brain to make it more hmmm.... smarter, I guess. Mom also found this cool math program called Math-You-See that is easy to understand and kid-friendly. Thank you to every one who encouraged me all year, I couldn't have made it through those rough spots with out you. I would have given up. I still can use prayers and encouragement as I attempt Algebra I!!! So keep it up.

Hope you all aren't bored with my description of my brain-impediment. Just wanted to express my thanks!!!

Cheerio,

~Me~

The Job at hand

"America was not built on fear. America was built on courage, on imagination, and an unbeatadble determination to do the job at hand."

~Harry Truman

Sweet Home... Wisconsin???

This is portions of a Wisconsin State Journal article about what our new state slogan should be. They were all sent in by Wisconsinites. Most of them only make sense to Wisconsin citizens. Sorry to Kourt, Erica, Tyson, Merill and all the other who visit my blog who aren't my family. If you DO understand it, maybe you have a bit of the Wisconsin red neck in your heart of hearts:-)
Enjoy!

Lydia

P.S. I added a page element to the bottom on the page.

All should be proceeded with "Wisconsin -

"Not Too Bad a Place"
"We're All Up North"
"Whine Not"
"Why Not?"
"Heart of Flyover Country"

"Ya Sure, You Betcha"
"European-Like, But We Speak English"
"Good Schools and Stuff"
"A State of Bliss"

"Wisconsin - Enter at Your Own Risk"
"Wisconsin - No Opposing Views Allowed"

"Wisconsin - More lakes than Minnesota!"


"Wisconsin - Due North, East, South and West of Madison."

"Wisconsin - Open For The Seasons!"

To many laws?
"If you liked Leviticus, you'll love Wisconsin."


"Wisconsin - Good folks, Good times!"


It's all about the cows
Wisconsin - More Happy Cows Than California
Wisconsin - Cows Are Happier Here

Great Story!

I don't know if this is true (we got it in a forward.)If it's not, it's a cool story. If it is true what an awesome testimony!!!! Especially to someone who likes History it's amazing.
Enjoy!
Lydia

His name was Fleming, and he was a poor Scottish farmer. One day, while trying to make a living for his family, he heard a cry for help coming from a nearby bog. He dropped his tools and ran to the bog.There, mired to his waist in black muck, was a terrified boy, screaming and struggling to free himself. Farmer Fleming saved the lad from what could have been a slow and terrifying death.The next day, a fancy carriage pulled up to the Scotsman's sparse surroundings An elegantly dressed nobleman stepped out and introduced himself as the father of the boy Farmer Fleming had saved."I want to repay you," said the nobleman. "You saved my son's life." "No, I can't accept payment for what I did," the Scottish farmer replied waving off the offer. At that moment, the farmer's own son came to the door of the family hovel. "Is that your son?" the nobleman asked. "Yes," the farmer replied proudly. "I'll make you a deal. Let me provide him with the level of education my own son will enjoy. If the lad is anything like his father, he'll no doubt grow to be a man we both will be proud of." And that he did. Farmer Fleming's son attended the very best schools and in time, graduated from St. Mary's Hospital Medical School in London, and went on to become known throughout the world as the noted Sir Alexander Fleming, the discoverer of Penicillin. Years afterward, the same nobleman's son who was saved from the bog was stricken with pneumonia. What saved his life this time? Penicillin. The name of the nobleman? Lord Randolph Churchill. His son's name? Sir Winston Churchill.

Check this out:

http://spentcasings.blogspot.com/

Please comment! When you get there scroll down to the first post to read what exactly Spentcasings is, then read!

Cheerio,
Lydia

P.S. Even shorter!!

Someday MY Prince Will Come...

This quote is my philosophy pertaining to the whole waiting-to-meet-my-prince-court-him-and-get-married-thing.

"He's coming from somewhere or other, I suppose, and he's coming someday or other I suppose, I don't know any more about him at present!"

I add:

"So I'll just wait patiently till that day comes!"

Laugh at me if you wish, I'm used to it. That's Jenny Wern from Dickens Our Mutual Friend by the way.

Cheerio Chaps,
Lydia

Gal. 2 scripture

Erica and I are doing a Bible study together reading Galatians. This is just a thought I had about being a light to the world. Maybe I'm way off with it... you can decide.

Gal 2:14 b says
If thou, being a Jew,livest after the manner of Gentiles, and not as do the Jews, why compellest thou the Gentiles to live as do the Jews?

Sounds like "be ye in the world, but not of it." It's true, if we look, act, talk, dress, like the world and have their same problems why would they want to be like us? How am I a witness for Christ if people look at me an see someone just like them. Why would they want to be like me? How can my light shine? How could we tell people that it's better to be God's child, if we are not?Or at least don't look like one?

Lydia

P.S. Shortest post to date I think!

Solution to The Case of the Rough Rider

Since Debbie, Rebecca and Erica read The Case of the Rough Rider, I've revised it. So you three don't know everything as you suppose you do. I changed it from 3 to 2 mistakes. One of them was the same and I added a new one. Below is the solution.
You all get your wish, a short post.
Cheerio,
Lydia

Solution to The Case of The Rough Rider

Wilford’s two mistakes were:

1.) San Juan Hill and Kettle Hill are really in Cuba not Mexico as indicated in the letter.
2.) Even though it carries the same effect, Theodore Roosevelt’s actual quote is, “Speak softy and carry a big stick.”
When faced with this proof, Wilford admitted that he didn’t have a great uncle much less one who knew Teddy Roosevelt. He had written the letter himself, but hadn’t bothered to do his homework on President Roosevelt.

I can't think of a name for this post

OK, I got the message, boring post. Only ONE person commented. I know I can't rhyme, and therefore am no poet. But I didn't think it was that bad... I do promise that I will never ever again post any poem I write. *everyone sighs in relief* Which shouldn't be hard, considering, I've only ever written 2 in my entire life that I can remember, the other one you don't want to hear. BUT...(yes, there's always a but..) that promise doesn't apply to something I've written that ISN'T poetry!*everyone groans again, I laugh evily*

Have any of you ever read The Encyclopedia Brown books? Encyclopedia is a 10 year old "boy detective" and really smart. One of those people who never forget anything. His Dad is police chief in their town, and Leroy (his real name) helps his Dad with unsolvable cases that he solves, usually during dinner. Encyclopedia also has his own detective agency in the family garage where he solves cases for the local kids with his sidekick Sally. There are two kids in town who are always trying to cheat his friends, Encyclopedia stops them of course. The books aren't brilliant works, but I used to really like them so I wrote a case. You are all VERY privileged, you get to read my one and ONLY finished piece of work. Enjoy!







The Case of the Rough Rider
Encyclopedia and Sally were sitting in Brown’s Detective Agency one afternoon in late August.
“Bugs haven’t been up to anything in nearly a week,” sighed Sally.
“Yeah,” agreed Encyclopedia, setting down The Spanish Life of Theodore Roosevelt, the book he was reading.
“With him not making trouble, nobody needs detectives.”
“Uh-oh,” murmured Sally under her breath. “Here comes your trouble.”
She pointed up the street. Lucy Fibbs was whizzing by on her bicycle.
“What’s wrong? Was Hambone stolen?” Sally called out.
Lucy lived on a farm. She loved animals, but pigs were her favorite. Hambone was Lucy’s prize pig. Lucy screeched to a halt.
“I hope not!” She cried, “I am going to be rich!!” dropping her bicycle on the sidewalk with a crash. “I could hire you full time for Twenty-Five Dollars an hour! Or a minute!!!!”
“Thanks,” said Sally.
“What did you do? Win the lottery?” asked Encyclopedia.
“I could sponsor the lottery with what Wilford said I will make,” Lucy cried excitingly.
“Who said?” Sally said sarcastically.
“Wilford,” replied Lucy meekly.
Encyclopedia sighed, “I should have known.”
Wilford Wiggins was a high school dropout and very lazy. He spent the day in bed dreaming up ways to cheat little kids out of their life savings, this must be his newest scheme.
“What’s Wilford up to this time?” queried Sally.
“I don’t know,” admitted Lucy, “All he said was to meet him at the dump with my money at five o’clock if I wanted to be rich.”
“I didn’t get an invitation,” Encyclopedia commented dryly.
“I’m not surprised, we’ve stopped his fast deals once too often,” returned Sally.
Lucy was looking troubled.
“I hope this isn’t a trick. Will you come with and tell me if Wilford is telling the truth? But, I will only be able to pay you twenty-five cents an hour.”
“We’ll come. Don’t worry,” Sally assured Lucy.
* * * * * * * * *
The three children arrived at the Dump in time. Wilford stood on a makeshift platform, next to a pile of tires.
“He’s wearing black,” whispered Sally, “and his eyes are red and puffy.”
“He didn’t look that way this morning,” Lucy pointed out.
Lucy turned to Fifi O’Brian. “Do you know what’s wrong with Wilford?”
“Uh-uh,” said Fifi. “Nobody does. Doesn’t he look like he’s been crying?” She sighed sympathetically.
Encyclopedia spied Bugs Meany and Spike Larson, one of his tigers, elbowing their way to the front of the crowd.
“What’s with the get up?” sneered Bugs. “Did you get a job as a’ undertaker?”
Spike and Bugs laughed and elbowed each other.

Wilford turned toward them, a sad look on his face.
“I am mourning the death of my great uncle,” Wilford said with a tragic air. He wiped away a tear that was sliding down his cheek and swallowed to regain his composure.
“My great Uncle, Wilford the First who is…” Wilford gulped, “was, 104”
Wilford stated the name and age proudly.
“He died of natural causes at his home in Texas, three days ago.” Wiford paused, as if unable to go on. He swallowed bravely and continued. “He was the last of Teddy Roosevelt’s Rough Riders.” Wilford sniffed, so did Lucy. “Some of my earliest memories are of him taking me on his knee to tell me about the. …Rough Riders and the charge of …(Gulp) San Juan Hill. He told me that while Teddy Roosevelt ….lived every year at New Years he would send him a …letter.”
Wilford was now openly sobbing, most of the girls were dabbing their eyes. Wilford straightened his back and began again.
“In his will he left to me the bundle of letters from Teddy Roosevelt. The Smithsonian Institute is interested in the letters and is willing to pay one thousand dollars for each letter.
A murmur ran through the crowd. “How can you prove you have these letters,” called out Sally.
“I have one right here,” replied Wilford with a smug face. “I‘ll read it to you.” Wilford took a piece of paper out of his pocket, opened it, cleared his throat and read:


The White House
January 1, 1905
Dear Wilford,
As promised I write you again. I hope the last year has been agreeable to you. How is your little nephew, Wilford?
As you have no doubt heard I have been elected in my own right to serve a term in the office of President. I will endeavor to serve the county we fought for to the best of my abilities. Speak quietly, but carry a big stick and you will go far.
I have been thinking a lot about the Rough Riders lately. The charge up San Juan Hill was unforgettable. I hear that a monument will be erected on San Juan Hill, Mexico commemorating the Rough Riders. The Mexicans obviously don’t hold a grudge against us.
I hope all is well.

Sincerely,
Theodore


Silence had fallen over the crowd of children.
Bugs called out, “What’s this have to do with us?”
“I need money,” cried Wilford despairingly. “I gave all the money I had to pay for the burial arrangements of my great uncle. Yet to get the money from the Smithsonian I have to be there in two days. The only way to get there quickly enough is to fly, and I don’t have enough money to pay for a plane ticket. If you, my loyal friends, help me I will give you 10 dollars for every 2 dollars you give me. I have 15 letters from Teddy Roosevelt. That is $15,000 right there that I can pay you back with a lot of interest. Loan me ten dollars and I will pay you back $20. But I can’t pay you till I get the money from the Smithsonian. Will you, my friends, help me buy my plane ticket?!
“Yes,” cried the enthusiastic children. They lined up to give Wilford their money.
“I wouldn’t help him,” spoke up Encyclopedia.
“Why not!” said Lucy. “He needs our help!”
“Because,” said Encyclopedia, “he made two mistakes.”


What Were Wilford’s Mistakes?



I'll post the solution tomorrow... Any Guesses?????????????

Since I like posting pictures here's one of me and Joe, Susie needed us to pose for a picture she was drawing...here's the result

Cheerio,

Lydia

An Unoriginal poem and a Original poem

Here's a poem I wrote last year. Yes, I'm no poet, but it sums up my mood most school days. (It doesn't rhyme.)

History

Old, but newer each day,

Slow, but fasted paced.

Full, but missing parts here and there.

Sad and happy, (but usually not in the end.)

It's not a fairy tale, it's not a novel;

It's life, now and then.

I learn from their mistakes;

I share in their joy.

History can be fun!

Now Math's a different matter...

~Lydia Sigwarth

(If you are wondering, I don't really like Math, I'm not good at it.)

I'm posting this next poem because I'm sick of doing all the talking here, so I'm going to challenge you all. This Poem is called The Riddle, and that's what it is. One of those "Who Am I" riddles . I'm looking forward to your guesses!

A Riddle

We are little airy creatures

All of us different voice and features

One of us in glass is set

One of us you'll find in jet.

T'other you may see in tin,

And the forth a box within.

If the fifth you should ppursue,

It can never fly from you.

~Johnathan Swift

Cheerio,

Lydia