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Thoughts of a nine-year-old poet
don’t you know it


HO HO HO: it’s ChriStmAs quiZ tiMe

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Win a signed copy of HARRIET BRIGHT IN A PICKLE for:
* yourself
* or give it to your best friend
* or your favourite teacher
* or your special aunt
* or maybe even Santa (does he ever get any presents?)

All the questions come from the story ON THE FIRST DAY OF CHRISTMAS in the book HOLIDAY HULLABALOO. (Extra large hint: This means all the answers come from there too.)

1. What time did I wake up on the first day of Christmas?
(This is SO super easy!)
2. Which princess from Persia was I in the school play?
(Mrs Glossia said I was the BEST Persian princess she had ever seen).
3. How many presents did I have under the Christmas tree?
(HINT: more than 12 and fewer than 14).
4. What is a triple promise?
(You have to answer SOME of the questions on your own).
5. Who said BAH HUMBUG all the time?
(HINT: the Grinch who stole Christmas is NOT the right answer).

There are only five answers between you and a FREE BOOK.

Competition closes 20 December.
Just click on the post to leave your answers.
I’ll let you know if you’ve won the competition.

VERY IMPORTANT:
If you do win, check it’s okay to give me your address with your mum or your dad.

HAPPY HARRIET BRIGHT XMAS!

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This blog belongs to Harriet Bright

Thoughts of a nine-year-old poet
don’t you know it


Before we turn ten

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I was reading my book ‘The Lives and Times of Famous People’ (curled up tight with my cutest cuddliest cat, Pippy Polly Pat) when I got the most ENORMOUS SHOCK EVER!

I was so shockingly shocked, I dropped the book on the floor (and I NEVER EVER drop books on the floor. My favourite teacher Mrs Glossia says I have the finest appreciation of the printed word she has ever seen).

Are you ready to be shocked too?
Mozart (of the Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Mozart) wrote his first symphony (a really long piece of music with LOTS of gallivanting notes) when he was NINE.

Yes, NINE.
Whichever way you look at it:
8 + 1
7 + 2
10 -1
4 + 5
99 -90
4975-4966

= 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9

FAME ALERT!
Nine year olds of the world:
we need to start being brilliant.
T O D A Y.

Before we turn ten.

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Thoughts of a nine-year-old poet
don’t you know it


Curious word 1

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I’ve got so many favourite things in the world I don’t know where
to put them all.

Mum says my room is ONE BIG MESS and can I PLEASE STOP collecting chopsticks and teapots.

So, I’ve decided to focus on favourite things that don’t take up too much space (except brain space and that doesn’t need an extra drawer).

My favourite thing at the moment is curious words.

curious word 1     DISCOMBOBULATE

This curious word is positively overflowing with syllables and means ‘to confuse, puzzle, perplex, baffle, mystify, bewilder, confound’.

GOLLY MOLLY! That’s discombobulating.

And when I say the word aloud, it sounds all tangled and floppy – as if it’s knocking into teapots and chopsticks, and having so many messy mishaps you wouldn’t read about it.

Do you like any curious words?

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Thoughts of a nine-year-old poet
don’t you know it


WHO WOULD YOU BE?

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We were sitting in class today when Mrs Glossia said, ‘Who would you be if you weren’t you?

Mrs Glossia is my favourite teacher in the whole world and she’s always asking us super interesting things like this.

Sometimes I’ve got so many super interesting things leaping about in my brain I feel 120% dizzy.

Mum says Mrs Glossia’s trying to stretch our minds and that this is a good thing.

I hope my stretched mind doesn’t give me a big head.

Dad says this is not a good thing.

Reece Thomas said if he wasn’t Reece Thomas he’d be a famous footballer. ‘They stay in posh hotels and their photos are always in the newspapers,’ he said. ‘And they can order ice-cream at midnight.’

‘I’d be an astronaut,’ said Paul Picklebottom. ‘Lost in space forever and ever.’

Lily Lennox did some fancy footwork under her desk. ‘I’d be a ballerina,’ she said.

‘I’d be a princess,’ said Polly Manning, flicking her ponytail. ‘And I’d live in a castle on a mountain with a drawbridge. She looked at Melly Fanshawe and me. ‘I’d need some scullery maids too,’ she said.

‘I don’t want to be a scullery maid,’ said Melly Fanshawe.

‘I don’t want to be a scullery maid either,’ I said.

‘I want you to put yourself in someone else’s shoes,’ said Mrs Glossia.

‘That doesn’t sound very hygienic, Mrs Glossia,’ said Ruby Frost. ‘All kinds of bacteria lurk in shoes. And toes are very moist so they pick up germs really easily.’

‘NO WAY am I going to walk in Paul Picklebottom’s shoes,’ said Polly Manning. ‘He’s got smelly feet and probably lots of bugs because bugs especially LOVE warm, dark places like stinky boys’ shoes.’

Paul Picklebottom went bright red so the bit about the bugs must be true.

‘I don’t mean actually wear their shoes,’ said Mrs Glossia. ‘It’s just an expression – it means imagining what it would feel like to be in someone else’s skin.’

‘Did you know that skin is the biggest organ in the body?’ said Ruby Frost.

Then Mrs Glossia told us to ‘stop talking and start thinking’.

So I wrote in my notebook about all the shoes I knew but that didn’t help me one little toe.

Mum’s got hundreds of shoes but she can never find two that go together. Dad said it started with socks and spread from there. He said just as well there’s only one of him.

HELP! I really and truly need some excellent thoughts.

Who would you be if you weren’t YOU?

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