YEAH, JOJO, YOU'RE WAITIN' FOR THIS ONE. (BY JONAH)

                                          PROLOGUE




                             |  sorry grandmas, for the delay,     |
            | but before we begin, I must say;   |
            |  especially Jojo, don't be a hog,  |
            | I need some of my time,            |            
            | I can't always blog!               |


    

        JONAH BLOGS PRESENTS----
   THE TIME I BARELY SURVIVED
    MY OWN BACKYARD ---by Jonah Mays

It all started when Jojo came to visit and wanted to explore the forest in our backyard.
(oh, and btw, she thought that 2 miles flat was 5 and a half miles.) 
We walked up to the creek, and she wanted to go to the end of the property. 
When we got there, I was ready to go back. Jojo wasn't. Or Caroline.

Joj: oh, we'll just explore this one more thing!
C: yeah!
Jon: we've already done that 86 times.
Joj: come on!

then, I started walking back. alone. "No, wait for us!" "You'll get lost!" (as I was walking on the right path).  So, I stopped. Caroline thought that the other path was the right one, so we started walking on Caroline's path. eventually, we came to the creek. WITH NO BRIDGE.  Caroline, after walking into a bunch of thorns, (like, thousands of thorns, we were all walking through them but Caroline had sandles)  burst into tears, I, trying to keep from sinking to the ground, trudged on into the forest, Jojo was freaking out, and Miriam, not exactly understanding the grimness of the situation, was frequently asking me if we could go home now. (oh, and strongly stating how she hated 'pookys')

  I think I was fine (as I had been many, many times in the forest before) until Jojo said she wished she had brought her phone. After that, I went




             WHAT???!!!!!!!!


Yeah, everyone was sinking into despair. We had been in the forest about 45 minutes and walking through a forest with no bridge to the other side of the creek. We were pretty sure we were to far left, but the creek- at least we thought- had ended (it had actually gone underground). Then, we heard the most beautiful sound of the world, the glorious cry of heaven--


     "JONAH? CAROLINE? ARE YOU GUYS OKAY?"




                             EPILOGUE   


well, my point proved that we should never trust Jojo, we were driving home. Thinking to myself, I tried not to laugh that I am usually the big scaredy cat, then keep calm as Jojo and Caroline are walking into a sea of thorns. (And then my mom who I got my cautiousness from saves the day).
But, evil-villain-who-never-has-any-fun-and-then-turns-out-to-be-the-superhero or not, I got rewarded with a wonderful meal from Sonic. And then slept like a log. Then made a blog.

Once there was a boy named BallFoot.
You will never guess what sport he played...!
AUDIENCE: FOOTBALL!

uhh...golf?

AUDIENCE: no, FOOT-BALL!

well, er, I don't know what you mean, basketball!

AUDIENCE: NOOOO! F-O-O-T-B-A-L-L! FOOT-BALL!

hard to argue with that. But, no! wrong! he played fùtball!

AUDIENCE: hmph.

well, he was called Ballfoot because....uh....Drumroll, pór fávor....

DRUMMER:............................................................................................................................................

Fine. Because he was horrid at football. I mean, fútball!

AUDIENCE LEAVES

aaaw, great.

DRUMMER: sorry, I was gone. One drumroll, coming right up!

drumroll
hmmmph.

Anyway, ballfoot got teased a lot. 'you'll never be a good player, butterfingers!' they said. Then, One day, he DROPPED THE BALL.....and because of his horrible footing, he fell right unto the ball....

AUDIENCE RETURNS

RANDOM MAN: and kicked the ball for a touchdown!
WHOOOOHOOO! good story, man!

Uhh, no. that's not how it works. Mississipi fumbled the ball and his team lost.


AUDIENCE  LEAVES 

Miriam says

Every time we run anywhere: First one there gets a rotten egg!

When she asks to do something that's dangerous or complicated: I know when I can do this. When I'm a mom! When will I be a mom? When I'm five?

Only to me: Mommy, you are my horse. Here. I will feed you carrots.

Anytime I talk within an hour of the horse game: Shhhh! Mommy. Horses don't talk.

When discussing Halloween costume ideas: I could be a wolf, or a pig, or a witch, or a bee bush, or a fence. Or I could be a road sign or the sky!

When trying to get me to guess something she's thinking of: It starts with mmmm....mmmmm....like Miriam! (Then she whispers the word to me so I can guess.)

Every single morning, right when the sky turns barely blue: The sun is up now, Grandma*. Will you make me some cereal?

*She likes to pretend that Caroline is her mother, which makes me the Grandma. When I'm not the horse, of course.

gearing up for new baby chicks!

Our poor chicken flock is down to two hens. We lost Pecky (the family's very favorite) to an unknown predator over a month ago. Buffy and Nevyn still stick together while they forage in the yard, but they hardly make up anything you would call a flock. Since most feed stores around these parts only sell chickens in the spring, we've decided to order some online. (Thanks, Mom, for the idea!) In the end, we went with an egg-laying assortment. In theory, this will be an assortment of female chickens from a variety of different breeds. This will give us the chance to see all kinds of pretty chicks and save us a few dollars.

The hatchery we've gone with guarantees at least five different types of chickens from the following list: Australorps, Brahmas, Cornish, Black/White Giants, Orpingtons, New Hampshire, Rhode Island Reds, Barred/Partridge Rocks, Delaware, Sussex, Turkens, Wyandottes, Red/Black Stars. For those of you who haven't spent the weekend looking at chicken catalogs, Pecky and Pig were Rhode Island Reds, Buffy is an Orpington, Nevyn is a Barred Rock, and Penguin was a Wyandotte. We'd be happy with just those breeds again, but I'm really hoping for an Australorp, Sussex, or Delaware this time. Those are breeds I would choose if I was picking chickens in person. Aren't they pretty?

What I do not want is a Turken. I almost decided against ordering from this particular hatchery just because of the possibility of getting a Turken. I have no idea what we'll do if we open the box and there are 5 Turkens inside.

I can already see it now: a box full of Turkens and children who love the ugly things too much for me to accidentally feed them to the neighborhood cats and snakes. Heaven help us if I have to look out the window at my majestic flock every day and see a bunch of naked necks running around the yard!
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