Volume 2 Issue 2

Pumpkins By Minerva Bronte

Pumpkins are a great part of Halloween celebrations.  They are fun to carve and fun to eat.  Pumpkins originated in Central America and spread throughout the Americas. Explorers found pumpkins in America and brought the seeds back to Europe where they became very popular.

Pumpkin carving can be as simple as making a face out of triangles and a half circle.  An experienced carver can turn a pumpkin into a beautiful work of art.  This year you might want to try carving a spider or a hippogriff into your pumpkin.

The tradition of making Jack O'lanterns is said to have started in Ireland.  The Irish carved turnips and put coals or candles inside.  They placed them outside their homes on All Hallow's Eve to scare away evil spirits.  They also carved potatoes and rutabagas.  When Irish immigrants came to America they found that pumpkins were much easier to carve. 

When the carving is done, it's time to think about eating pumpkins.  Roasted pumpkin seeds are a fun snack.  They can be seasoned in many different ways from spicy to sweet.  The pumpkin flesh can be cooked and turned into pumpkin cookies, pumpkin muffins, pumpkin pie, and of course pumpkin juice!

Fun facts:

·      There are no words in the dictionary that rhyme with orange.

·      The world record for giant pumpkins is 1446 pounds.

·      The top prize for the biggest giant pumpkin is as much as $25,000.

Britain: What They Did Next By Alahna Petersen

The National American Wizard Security and Detection Center

Britain has struck again and all wizards of America are in danger. Britain has planted more aurors in America and no American wizards are safe.  Everyone must be on the alert for British aurors. Make sure to follow these security precautions until notified.  BE ON THE ALERT AT ALL TIMES. If you site a foreign auror send an owl immediately to the N.A.W.S.D.C.

To prevent home invasion:

Make sure wands are with you at all times.
Lock all doors at night and when away from home.
Establish a password with family and close friends.
Decipher who you can trust or not.
Stay in at night.

If your home is invaded:

Call the N.A.W.S.D.C.
If you are present hide your children and their wands.
Try to warn all friends, family, and any wizards in the neighborhood.


Thank you for your cooperation.

Prayer Pretzels By Anna Petersen

Pretzels were first made in a monastery in the early seventh century A.D. when a young monk discovered that he could use the scraps of bread dough and fold them in a way that resembled a child in prayer. (Christians of the time prayed with their arms crossed and each hand on a shoulder.) They named them pretiola, or little reward in Latin, and began using them to reward children for memorizing their prayers. Here is a recipe for you to make your own pretiolae.

Ingredients

• 4 teaspoons active dry yeast
• 1 teaspoon white sugar
• 1 1/4 cups warm water (110 degrees F/45 degrees C)
• 5 cups all-purpose flour
• 1/2 cup white sugar
• 1 1/2 teaspoons salt
• 1 tablespoon vegetable oil

• 1/2 cup baking soda
• 4 cups hot water
• 1/4 cup kosher salt, for topping

Directions

1. In a small bowl, dissolve yeast and 1 teaspoon sugar in warm water. Let stand until creamy, about 10 minutes.
2. In a large bowl, mix together flour, 1/2 cup sugar, and salt. Make a well in the center; add the oil and yeast mixture. Mix and form into a dough. If the mixture is dry, add one or two tablespoons of water. Knead the dough until smooth, about 7 to 8 minutes. Lightly oil a large bowl, place the dough in the bowl and turn to coat with oil. Cover with plastic wrap and let rise in a warm place until doubled in size, about 1 hour.
3. Preheat oven to 450 degrees F (230 degrees C). In a large bowl, dissolve baking soda in hot water.
4. When risen, turn dough out onto a lightly floured surface and divide into 12 equal pieces. Roll each piece into a rope and twist into a pretzel shape. Once all of the dough is all shaped, dip each pretzel into the baking soda solution and place on a greased baking sheet. Sprinkle with kosher salt.
5. Bake in preheated oven for 8 minutes, until browned.

(recipe found on allrecipes.com)

Ravenclaw Challenge

 Congratulations to Emma Palmer of Ravenclaw, who was the first to reveal the name of the author of The Road Not Taken... Robert Frost.


Solve this riddle
One, two, three
Fame and Glory
Unto thee


- Minerva Bronte


What animal am I?
[ex. a dull person = boar (bore)]


1. parts of a chain = ?
2. tellin' untruths = ?
3. a lamenting cry = ?


Musings


A Weekly Column BY Damarco Montoya


Pumpkins Gone Mad

I’ve seen green pumpkins turn a bright and beautiful orange, one turn a magnificent white, and even one that turned black.  What I haven’t seen or even heard of, is a pumpkin turning red, until now.  I’m telling you it happened, and what a terrible sight it was!

Here’s how it happened:  It was dark and cold.  I thought what I had was a great big deeply orange pumpkin ready for pie and to become a Jack-O-Lantern.  Many pumpkin carving designs were running through my mind.  I thought of the traditional triangles for everything design, a less than typical circular design with a smiley face, and then of carving the Mona Lisa (that’s right, I’ve got skills!).  I located my pumpkin carving tools, a pen, the regular orange-handled mini saw, the little scooper thing, and something that is used to poke the pumpkin for dots. 

Maybe I should’ve turned some lights on or something, to at least get a better look at the pumpkin I was about to carve.  It might have been nice to see what I was about to draw onto the pumpkin rather than deciding to tackle this project like a blind person might a steering wheel in a moving vehicle.  Instead, and for whatever reason I decided to sit lazily in the dark in front of what turned out to be an evil pumpkin while holding potentially menacing tools in my hands. 

Now this is where things get very strange . . . I took my pen and was successful in drawing Mona Lisa’s eyes, a sliver of a nose, and a very crooked smile when the monstrously large pumpkin took a big jump back and made a sound of “HMPH,” like it was a person who plopped down on his back side (polite word for bottom) a little harder than was anticipated.  I didn’t know what was going on.  What was making that sound though?  There is a thud sound when a pumpkin is dropped from a few inches off the ground (any higher than a few inches and let’s just say no pumpkin wants to know what happens when it’s dropped), but that sound was different, almost human-like. 

Wait a minute!  Did I just compare a pumpkin to a human?  In what way is this anything like a human?  Okay, it is a pumpkin!  It’s round and very large.  Was it changing colors, or had it been red all along and in poor lighting?  So it’s red and is a pumpkin with no identifying marks other than the very simple very crooked smile, very subtle nose line, and small human-like and shaped eyes.  Those eyes!  It looked like one just blinked at me!  How can an eye that I just drew not one minute earlier wink at me of its own ability? 

Maybe I’ve gone completely crazy but that eye just winked at me and I believe that mouth was what made the sound “HMPH”.  The impossibilities continued as I went to grab the enormous pumpkin and it hopped up in the air at my hands and with its pumpkiny smooth mouth bit me on the outside of my right hand.  My hand hurt as though someone with a wadded up sock hit me really hard.  There weren’t any marks on my hand other than a little redness on the top and bottom. 

When I stood up on my feet to take an aggressive stance towards this crazy red pumpkin it hopped up at me with another great loud “HMPH!”  Instead of taking an aggressive stance against the pumpkin, I found myself cowering back a few feet.  It saw my fear and hopped towards me with incredible speed (“incredible” considering it was a pumpkin and had no legs).  Having no legs didn’t stop it from moving so aggressively towards me.  I certainly made good use of my legs! 

I turned and started running away when I heard this abomination scream out in what must have been a call-to-arms scream.  There was more than just the one pumpkin now chasing after me.  I didn’t look back out of fear but heard more thumps than I could count even if I took my shoes and socks off and could also see my toes.  I’m running in and out of the rooms of my house trying to find a good hiding place from these monstrosities.  The “HMPH” coming from the crooked smile of Mona Lisa is now closely followed by what must be every pumpkin in the neighborhood.  “Why did I take it upon myself to carve so many pumpkins this year” I thought to myself.

Finally I found a closet with enough space for me to sit and cower.  I had my phone in my hand in case I needed to call for help.  Who am I kidding?  Of course I needed help only I couldn’t imagine how that call might sound to someone, “All my pumpkins have come to life somehow and are trying to kill me”.  I was able to peek out a crack in the door to see a most frightful sight.  The great red Mona Lisa pumpkin and her grand red pumpkin army held me captive in my own closet.  The closet door bumped as some of the smaller pumpkins got a little over anxious in their attempts to get me.  What did they want?

Imagine my utter confusion and FRIGHT from the preceding few minutes, and how quickly the situation became ridiculous.  A moment ago I was going to carve my masterpiece, and instead here I’m sitting under umbrellas and jackets behind a door that’s saving me from impending doom.  Their fresh cut pumpkin smell leaked into the closet from under the door.  The room began smelling like a pumpkin slaughterhouse.  I started to feel bad for cutting all those pumpkins and thought they wanted revenge.

As if my thoughts were out loud, Mona began speaking.  My giant read militant pumpkin can talk?!  In a much deeper voice than the real Mona Lisa could ever produce, she gave her conditions of release.  “My brothers and sisters,” she began (brothers and sisters?  Pumpkins can be boys and girls? 
Who knew?) “never desired to get cut and scraped, poked and prodded,” she continued.  “You had NO right to make silly and ridiculous faces out of their bodies!” Her deep voice continued to deliver what sounded more like complaints than demands.  “We promise not to eat you if you can feed us candles.”

The demands sounded simple enough.  If I give them candles they will not eat me.  The trade, though strange seemed pretty easy to agree to.

I slowly opened the closet door, told Mona Lisa I agree to the terms and will immediately search for candles.  While we walked to my candle cupboard she told me in her deep voice that her brothers and sisters turned red and went mad because they had been cut into and hollowed out but were deprived of the sweet taste of candle, and that candle wax has unique properties to soothe angry and shocked pumpkins.  She became angry and shocked simply because she grew so big and hundreds of people and kids passed by her in the pumpkin patch before she was finally chosen.  She had been happy until that silly design had been drawn with pen into her flesh.  The eyes were bad enough, but that crooked smile was the last straw, and pumpkins from pumpkin patches know about straw! Mona will live with the smile.  After all the hopping around, she got used to her appearance. 

Pumpkin pie and Jack-O-Lanterns are nice, but from now on they’ll be nice from a distance (except for the pie- how can I enjoy pie from a distance?).

Pumpkins By Emma Palmer

Plump

Uproarious

Messy

Palatable

Kids

Incandescent

Night

Scary

Acorn Spotlight By Jane Smith

Let’s take some time to get to know one of our QA Acorns, Sophie Morphis of Ravenclaw House!

Sophie was born just last year a few days after Thanksgiving.  She is approaching her very first birthday and she is extremely excited about it!  Giraffes are her favorite animals, so she is having a giraffe themed party.  It will be her first opportunity to eat cake and ice cream!

Some of her other favorite things include songs about her and evil laughter.  Her favorite game is Peek-a-boo, or as she calls it “Where’s Sophie?”

She likes to wear any clothes that don’t inhibit her ability to crawl, which is currently her preferred method of travel.  

Sophie's favorite food is you are eating, and she would like you to share.  But, she is not allowed to eat honey, citrus or sugary desserts.

A high earner of House Points, Sophie takes two naps every day and is often the first one ready in the morning or at bedtime.

She is good at providing other people with service opportunities.  Her older siblings get to play with her and keep her happy.  Her older cousins get to take care of her sometimes too. 

Sophie loves being a Ravenclaw because she gets to wear a tiara and she likes to spend time communing with like-minded ladies.

She also loves Quercus Alba and thinks her wand is yummy for chewing!

Volume 2 Issue 1

A House for Mickey Mouse

By William Petersen

I like Mickey Mouse because I like my Mickey Mouse stuffed animal. I got my Mickey Mouse for Christmas. I Like Christmas. My favorite show is Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. Mickey Mouse talks good. I like him in the movie. I also like Mickey Mouse books. He is nice and happy.  Mickey Mouse is in HUFFLEPUFF house!

 

One Determined Woman

By Bradley Palmer

In the early 11th century in the British town of Coventry there was a selfish Tyrant who raised taxes just to become rich because he only cared about himself and not others. But he was married to a beautiful and kind woman named Lady Godiva. She loved the people and wanted them to be happy.

Upon visiting the town one day she was sad by the state of the town. The people told her that because the taxes were so high they would work all day and still not have enough to buy dinner. So she went to her husband and begged him to lower taxes. Day after day she would ask powerfully and bravely, for it was a bold endeavor to change the kings opinion, to lower the taxes. Finally he said he would lower the taxes if she rode through the streets naked because he believed she would not do it.

But Lady Godiva loved the people and wanted to help. So she told everyone to lock up and stay inside for the hour. She then undressed herself and perched herself upon her horse. She then rode through the streets and only Tom the Tailor gazed out to look at her. Her husband then lowered the taxes because she had done what he asked her to do.

Ravenclaw Challenge

This author's name is in disguise.

The first to reveal it wins a prize!

Minerva Bronte

The Road Not Taken

 Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

By Frrott Robes

Thoughts... Just Thoughts

By Anna Petersen

Your going to die first, and soon

“Sup”, “Hey”, and “Hi” are all ways of greeting, so what if someone came up and said, “You are going to die first, and soon.”? You’d want to know what the heck they were talking about, right? You wouldn't tell your friend “I'm glad it has to be me, not you.’’ and stop her from grilling the spokesman (in this case spokes-girl) for answers, right? Or in any case, that's not what I’d do. Which is why I’m sitting here wondering with wonderment on the amazing ability to not show fear that Fang has. (For more information read Fang, a Maximum Ride novel, by James Patterson)

NO! WHAT HAVE I DONE!

You have just left your one and only love, leaving her a cute little note, to accomplish your mission, and you are amassing an army to help you out. Oh no,  you have made a big mistake. One of the generals of your army is the clone of your soul-mate! I mean seriously, what were you thinking! If you aren't regretting it now you are so stupid you shouldn't even have an army, let alone one with a clone in it! (For more information read Angel, a Maximum Ride novel, by James Patterson)               

It’s About Time

Let’s all join together in saying.... FINALLY.  Let’s say you have been into someone for a long time. You have been torn between two parts: wanting to just give in and see what happens between the two of you and sheer terror. Finally, you squash your eminent desire to run away screaming and make some progress. All I can say is, not congrats or anything like that, but... it’s about time (For more information read Max, a Maximum Ride novel, by James Patterson)

Musings

By Damarco Montoya

The Sock Bandit Strikes Again!

 It was a dark and gloomy night.  Everyone in the house was ready for the movies except for me.  All I had left to do is put on my socks and shoes- a simple task, right?  The whole house was staring at me while I earnestly searched the clean clothes pile for a matching pair of socks.  When I say the “whole house,” I mean every knick knack, every table and chair, every DVD jacket, and certainly every toy.  In fact the toys were the worst, since many of them were life shaped enough to have eyes with which to mockingly stare while saying, “What’s wrong?  Can’t find your socks?  I have mine; in fact they’re sewn to my legs.”  

I found striped ones, solid print colorful ones, black dressy ones, and even some polka-dot ones, but no two that were a like.  Would people notice if I wore a stripy sock with a polka-dot one?  Do I want to be noticed for that?  “Hey, look at those socks!  They don’t match!  He must not know what he’s doing, he looks ridiculous!”  Even if they didn’t say it out loud I’m sure that’s what they would be thinking. 

Just how many different types of socks could I possibly have?  Let’s see, there’s one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight- no, that’s not mine so it doesn’t count.  I have way too many different types of socks. Why do I have so many different types of socks?  What could I possibly need five different colors of striped socks for anyway?! 

There’s only one excuse for all the missing socks.  The Sock Bandit has struck again!  I’ve heard legend about the sock bandit.  It is neither boy nor girl, and is mostly a giant gaping mouth almost two feet wide and four feet deep, and it has an insatiable hunger for nothing but socks.  It has neither skin nor bone and is yet so ravenous to socks we almost always invariably end up satisfying its hunger by giving up the would-be never ending search parties to buying more pairs of replacement socks.  I’m certain this enormous mouth of a Sock Bandit lives in the laundry room and either in between or behind the machines.  I even think this diabolical creature could live UNDER the machines! 

One day I decided to look for this monster in order to recover one of my favorite, one might say (okay, I might say) lucky socks.  I took out a bright flashlight.  This flashlight was so bright it gave the sun a run for its money.  That’s a ridiculous saying, so how about this one: This flashlight rivaled the brightness of the sun (better).  I took my Sun flashlight (wouldn’t that be a good brand name for a flashlight: Sun?  Please don’t steal my idea) to the laundry room.  I shined light in every direction, chasing shadows away hoping to finally uncover the great mystery that is the Sock Bandit.  I wanted to see what it looks like and finally uncover all the missing socks. 

Just imagine discovering a great mountain of socks in a secret void somewhere around the washer and dryer.  Maybe this Bandit has the ability to move seamlessly between two worlds and the other world is fueled by socks.  Maybe in the other world all other Bandits hang socks from the corners of their big gaping mouths and swagger down their streets or paths hoping to outdo all other Bandits.  Maybe for them the weirder socks are the better socks, and if one of them comes back from a laundry room with a basic white sock it is laughed at and mocked for the simplicity.  Is that why I have all these ridiculous-looking socks?  I’m helping MY Sock Bandit fit in amongst its peers? 

I looked and looked with my Sun-Bright torch (that’s what English people call a Flashlight) for at least two minutes before hearing an odd sound.  The sound came from the back corner of the room behind the washing machine.  It sounded eerily like the cottony drooling of a big gaping Sock Bandit mouth.  Of course I don’t know what cottony drooling might sound like but I didn’t want to chance it, so I quickly walked out of the room. 

Since I knew the Sock Bandit existed, I knew there’s no better explanation for my missing socks than the Sock Bandit has decided to use my ridiculous socks to boost its popularity in his world.  One thing’s for sure.  Okay, two things are for sure:  1. I will now limit myself to boring white socks, and 2. I’m going to wear flip flops to the movies.

Harry Potter goes to School By Matthew Morphis

Harry Potter goes to school and does something to fly.  He's Gryffindor and then Ron fell down.  And then his lightning bolt scar is like his lightning bolt shoes.  He runs really fast, he run, run, run.  Dumbledor get his wand and Expelliarmus and Harry Potter Expelliarmus.  Harry Potter's in a red Hotwheels and Ron is in a green one and they fly.  The end.

Three Kids

By Jane Smith

Three kids

Freshly tubbed

Teeth scrubbed

Read to

Sung to

Prayed with

Tucked in bed.

Is there anything more satisfying?

Evil Pumpkin By Robert Petersen

Prayer By Natalie Morphis

Prayer is talking to Heavenly Father and Heavenly Father can hear.

We need to talk to Heavenly Father or if something is wrong we need to tell Him.

We have to be reverent.

We have to fold our arms while we pray.

We have to close our eyes.

Prayerful means you have to pray.

Praying makes me feel happy.

When I pray it makes Heavenly Father happy.

In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

Volume 1 Issue 4

RAVENCLAW WINS THE HOUSE CUP!

By Jane Smith

One thing was on the mind of QA students at the end of term banquet held on Friday October 7, the House Cup. 

Throughout the year, the Ravenclaws were high points earners and were found each week to be leading the other two houses.  Hufflepuff House was consistently in the middle.  But, it was the Gryffindors that were the real surprise in this contest. 

All three Gryffindor boys were prone to great acts that would earn them large scoops of House Points.  Unfortunately, all three were also prone to great acts of rule breaking that would lose them House Points almost as quickly!  Consequently they were each week found to be the House with the fewest points.

But, during the last week of the term, the Gryffindors rallied!  They did everything they could to earn points and to keep them!  They worked so hard that they almost tied with Ravenclaw.  The three heads of house had to confer and determined that it was very close, but Ravenclaw did have slightly more points.

Great job Ravenclaws!  And great job to all QA students!

Monday, the new term starts and so a new race for the HOUSE CUP!

Witches on Halloween Night By Alahna Petersen

Once, long ago, there were three witches. They were wicked witches, and if a young child of 7 or younger ever came across the witches they would feed the child a special potion. Then they would suck the youth out of the child to keep the witches young. For if the witches didn't take someone’s youth on the night of Halloween they would die.

On Halloween night more than one thousand years ago a small girl named Lily, youngest of a family of 10, was out to get firewood for the stove. The witches caught her in the woods but one of her brothers, the second oldest who was 16, had been playing in the trees when he saw his sister being kidnapped by the witches. He ran after them and tried to save her but when he arrived his sister had already been given the potion.  The witches turned him into a black cat (for he was too old to take his youth) that would live forever unless a child the age of his little sister said a special incantation from the witches' book of spells that would free him.  Once it was said he would die after ten minutes.  A mob of 40 people that their father had gathered after he realized his children were missing arrived to get rid of the witches once and for all, but it was too late.  The boy was already a cat and Lily was dead.  The mob hung the witches but they never found out what happened to the boy.

981 years later a girl that had been taking care of the cat for 4 years found the book.  The girl had felt a special connection with the cat, and had been the only one that ever came close to being able to talk with the the boy, who was almost 1000 years old, while he was a cat. One day, the girl read the spell with out knowing that she would kill the cat she had owned and loved since she was 3.  In the 10 minutes the cat had before he died, he explained everything and thanked the girl for taking care of him.  He died peacefully and rejoined Lily and the rest of his family in heaven.  The little girl was sad that her cat had died but happy that he was free from the spell.

QA Staff Takes a Hint 

By Professor Hunt

Thanks to a recent article in The Leaf, students at Quercus Alba should have no reason to complain about empty stomachs at school gatherings. From Olympic cake rings to an onion ring Tower of Babel, school fare recently has been top notch.  

 

Students have also been contributing to the happy state of our taste buds.  We have sampled Hagrid's rock 

cakes, ginger snaps, magical banana bread, and a pyramid made of Rice Krispie treats.

A new school year begins in just a few days. I wonder what scrumptious foods we will have the opportunity to eat?

 

Play Dough Wars 

By Emma Palmer

 My friend Alexandra and I like to make play dough.  Then we go outside to the backyard, and throw it at each other!  It's fun because it hurts.  Our first play dough war was in the kitchen, but my mom won't allow that any more.  We get play dough in our hair and all over our clothes.  I'm still picking play dough off a shirt I wore in our last war, and Wednesday I found play dough on my shoe.  We actually miss a lot.  It's hard to hit someone with a play dough ball.

    

 First, we make the play dough from a recipe my mother got from my brother's kindergarten teacher.

3 cups flour

1 ½ cups salt

3 cups water

3 teaspoons cream of tartar

4 Tablespoons vegetable oil

food coloring of your choice

1 small package of koolaid to match the food coloring (We like to add double the koolaid. It makes the play dough smell really good. One time we rebelled and did not match the food coloring with our koolaid.  We made turquoise play dough with lime koolaid.)

Combine water, oil, and food coloring in a large pan. Mix flour, salt, koolaid, and cream of tartar in a separate bowl.  Add to liquid.  Cook on low heat, stirring constantly.  Mixture will begin to bubble and get thicker. (Keep stirring, as it may scorch.)  When it forms a ball it is done!  Allow mixture to cool completely, then place it in a Ziploc baggie and seal tightly.

 After we make the play dough, we take the big ball and we split it into two balls.  Then we pack it tight, so that when we stand up and throw it on the floor it doesn't break.  Then we go outside and start the war!  What's bad about doing it outside is if it gets into the grass, and it will, then dirt and grass will be in your play dough.  We tried picking it out, but it took too long.  Still, we always have a great time!

Musings

A Weekly Column by Damarco Montoya

UFO Pizza

Standing by a car, leaning up against it (I think), late at night I noticed an unidentified flying object appeared over head.  Who would’ve thought a strange triangular-shaped flying object would have chosen ME as his audience?  I was thinking over and over as to what that was and figured it was simply unidentified, flying (yes, it was in the air so I assumed it was in fact flying), and it was or seemed to be an object. 

At the time I was discussing important matters with my nextdoor neighbor just before calling it a night.  Maybe it was what we were discussing that prompted the visitation from the land (or galaxy) of flying objects.  I can’t for the life of me remember what we were talking about that night.  Oh NO!  My memory must have been wiped clean by those who inhabit the flying object, which is unidentified.

What does that mean anyways, to be unidentified, flying, and an object really?  So, lots of things are unidentified in this world.  I can find maybe half a dozen things in my fridge right now that are considered by me and probably all who take a gander to be unidentified, though they aren’t or can’t possibly also learn to fly (I suppose if thrown really hard . . .).  For something to be flying (of its own capacity rather than being propelled- which would be rather easy, just ask any of my younger siblings) is a bit tougher since now we’re talking about technology and science.  In order to fly, one must have an engine of sorts (preferably the sort that causes flight) and a means to power the engine, like a battery or something equivalent.  An object is pretty easy to come by, since we are all objects (the definition of NOUN: person, place, or thing covers a lot of ground).

I’ve got it!  All I need to do is wear a strange costume and sprout wings and I will qualify as a UFO. Wouldn’t it be funny to see pictures labeled as UFOs but are shaped more or less like weird people in an unidentifiable costume rather than the overused or cliché flying disc?  An observer might say, “There it is again, that crazy weird flying thing.  Do you know what that thing is?” Another observer might say, “Nope, it’s unidentifiable to me, it’s an object alright, and it sure is flying.  Let’s give it a label and put it in the books!”

So my UFO was shaped like a triangle and had some lights on the corners.  I guess how it seemed to fly was what was remarkable to us.  The fat pizza slice-shaped thing seemed to fly quickly to right above us (really high in the sky of course- no, it wasn’t a neighborhood prankster hanging a piece of pizza overhead from a tree, unless he too was able to fly in which case he could’ve qualified as a UFO as well), and then it seemed to hover momentarily before flying quickly away.

We scratched our heads and continued with our conversation.  I’m sure it must’ve been our conversation that drew it nearby.  What were we talking about?  I know, we were talking about Pizza.  I came home with pizza and we were talking about different types of toppings.  I guess they were hungry!

At the time I was discussing important matters with my next door neighbor just before calling it a night.  Maybe it was what we were discussing that prompted the visitation from the land (or galaxy) of flying objects.  I can’t for the life of me remember what we were talking about that night.  Oh NO!  My memory had been wiped clean by those who inhabit the flying object which is unidentified. . .