Favorite School Project_Canvas_Rain-Lock_The Devil Came Down to Indiana
Catalog Guide:
Favorite School Project
It was 1983, but not quite the version you remember.In third grade gifted class, we made these little terrariums. I thought they were the coolest. Mrs. Manchester lined us up in front of a formica table covered with newspaper, a bag of potting soil, and a box of gravel. We each got our own fishbowl and filled it up, added a lonely jade plant, spritzed water on top, and behold, we were gods. My fishbowl was green and tumbled like sea-glass, not smooth and transparent like everyone else’s. “The pet store didn’t have enough new bowls,” Mrs. Manchester said. “Sorry, Eileen. I found this one in Mr....
Canvas
I love to wander around arts and craft stores, to see the perse supplies available to create with. Easels, sketch pads, molds, paints, leather crafting, wood, ceramics and countless other mediums. The main item that always interests me the most, are the canvas’. They come in all sizes, some variety of colors, material they are made from and thickness, but the one thing they have in common is, they are all blank. I stare at them and wonder, who will take this one home? what medium will they use on it? pastewww.onedoor.ccls, watercolor, oil or acrylics or charcoal? But most of all I wonder, what will this c...
Rain-Lock
Rain-Lock“Official rain warnings have now been issued for all of Suffolk, Essex, and Kent counties,” the reporter's voice blared from the TV. “Public transportation stopped at midnight last night and police will begin issuing lock-violation tickets from half-ten this morning. The rain-lock is expected to last into --”The reporter's voice was cut off abruptly as Mum muted the TV, shooting a worried look at the radar map on the screen before returning to the kitchen. As she walked by Otis she leaned down and kissed the top of his head, the way she always did. Otis considered telling her that he ...
The Devil Came Down to Indiana
Cara climbed up to her studio apartment between the gun shop and the chicken hatchery, along Indiana’s scenic Elkhart River. The door opened with the usual spine-chilling squeal, although the landlord had lubricated the hinges a half dozen times.“Hello, dear,” her mother’s ghost said. “How was school today?”“Don’t bother her, Dorothy,” her father said. “She’s clearly exhausted. Don’t mind your mother, Cara.”“Supper is almost done,” her mother said, slipping into the navy wool coat she’d died in. “Ten more minutes should do it. Don’t worry about us. Your father and I will pick up something whi...