Music Makes Everything Better

I've noticed lately that music is very powerful. I'll be feeling stressed or up-tight or tired, and when I turn on Coldplay or Adele or some T-Swizzle, it all seems to melt away. So I'm taking today's blog post as an opportunity to share some great music with you.

First of all, some new Coldplay.



Recently I've gotten Adele's 21 album. My favourite song:



And what I'm listening to right now:



And finally, my favourite artist:



Music is amazing. So I double-dog-dare you to go turn on some tunes, whether they be my recommendations or some of your own favourites. Here's to music.

It's Thanksgiving!

Thanksgiving.

Homemade pumpkin pie. Roasted turkey filled with stuffing. Harvesting the last of a veggie garden. Happiness and thankfulness shared together with relatives.

That is what I think of when I think of Thanksgiving. Now you may be thinking, “But Thanksgiving is in November!” Well, in Canada, we celebrate it on the first Monday in October (Columbus Day in the US). Why? Canada has an earlier harvest season than the US, so it makes sense for us to celebrate it in early October rather than late November.  We also celebrate a bit differently. Generally, in Canada Pilgrims are not mentioned in Thanksgiving celebrations.

Thanksgiving in Canada was supposedly started by Martin Frobisher, an explorer who tried to find a northern passage to the Pacific Ocean (which was later discovered and is now called the Northwest Passage). His Thanksgiving was a formal ceremony giving thanks for his safe return home. Canadian Thanksgiving origins can also be credited to the French settlers who came to New France in the early 17th century with Samuel de Champlain. Their Thanksgiving was like modern Thanksgiving in that it celebrated a successful harvest. On January 31, 1957, the government announced “A Day of General Thanksgiving to Almighty God for the bountiful harvest with which Canada has been blessed – to be observed on the 2nd Monday in October.”


Thanksgiving is an opportunity to give thanks for the many things which we are so lucky to have and to share our joy and happiness with others. It is also a time to remember those who are less fortunate than us and do not have a safe place to come home to. Many foodbanks and soup kitchens also hold special dinners for Thanksgiving.

Although you may not be celebrating Thanksgiving this weekend, you should try to be thankful all year round! Some ideas to celebrate are donating to food banks, volunteering at your favourite non-profit organization and just being thankful for all you have!

What’s your favourite part about Thanksgiving? How will you be thankful? Share your thoughts in the comments below!

(This is an article I wrote for Newmoon.com.)

Writing-- Unexpected Findings

Just a little piece about finding something unexpected. I wrote this today at a writing workshop I attend. I'd LOVE if you'd let me know what you think (be honest!). Thanks for reading it!

Unexpected Findings

I curl my fingers around the rusted doorknob. The door is cracked and the off-white paint is peeling in long strips. I can see the swirly knots in the wood through the thin paint. As I open it, the door creaks like an old man getting up in the morning. Inside I find something I never thought I would ever see again. It is the old sweater my grandma had knitted for me as a starting school present. I wore it every day for 297 days (yes, I counted) until my mother ordered me to take it off. It had became so ratty that when I put it on I could never find the arm holes, as there were too many other holes which I mistakenly thought were the ones meant for my arms. I was definitely a weird kid. Other kids had stuffed animals and special ‘blankies’. I had my sweater. On the first day of kindergarten, while everyone else squeezed their mother’s fingers so hard they nearly broke them, I put on my sweater and flopped down on the couch with a book. I had loved that sweater. But what was it doing here?

I was sure my mom had thrown it away. I remember kicking and screaming and finally collapsing in hopelessness as my mother tossed it out. So how did it get here, behind the old door in the apartment building my dad runs? The responsible, adult part of me lectures me on the importance of letting go, and tells me that I should close the door and move on, but this voice was quickly defeated by the sentimental part of me. I stumble through the doorway, leaping the distance in only a few steps. I snatched the sweater up from the dusty floor and pressed it against my chest. I took a deep breath, letting the familiar scent of the sweater remind me of those happy days my 5-year-old self had enjoyed so long ago. I laugh as tears began to stream down my face. What a silly thing to be get so emotional over! I knew nobody would ever understand my attachment to this sweater. But it was a part of me, a part of me I certainly didn’t expect to find behind the old wrecked door in Dad’s apartments.

“Unexpected findings are the best.” I whisper to myself.

Things That

Hi guys!
I'm at school right now, and we were on Blogger making blogs about The Trojan War book we are starting to study. The blog is trojanwarhanna.blogspot.com, if you are so bored that you actually want to read me rambling about the book. It doesn't have anything yet, anyways.

On other blog news, I'm in the process of making a book review blog. The URL is betweenthestacksya.blogspot.com. Again, it doesn't have anything yet, just a cool header. Let me know if you have any ideas or thoughts on the blog!

Well, the bell just rang for lunch (yay!), so I gotta go.
"Blog" to ya later!

City of Bones Review

City of Bones by Cassandra Clare

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


Best book evaaaar! I finished it this morning and couldn't bear to wait until the next day to read City of Ashes so I bought the sequel right away. Cassandra is an amazing writer and I am looking forward to reading more of her fabulous writing.



If you are wondering, City of Bones is about a teenage girl named Clary Fray. She heads to Pandemonium, a club, with her best friend Simon expecting a murder-free, normal night. But this night turns out to be not normal at all. She witnesses the murder of a demon and is thrown into the world of Shadowhunters and demons. She discovers secrets whispered about behind backs, mysterious creatures and much more. Join Clary as she journeys into the dangerous Shadowhunter world.



I encourage all lovers of YA books to head to their local bookstore or library IMMEDIATELY and pick up a copy of this amazing book.








View all my reviews

Reflections

Dear 11,
It's been wonderful having you as the age I can call my own for the past year. 11 is an in-between age. Still not quite a teen, but much older than a child. I  really got into teen fiction with you. Now that I'm 12, 11 seems so young. But I know that if you had asked me what I thought of the ages 11 and 12 a few months ago, I would have told you something rather different. I hope the next year will be filled with photography and writing and reading and other pleasurable activities. I don't want to get lost in boys and makeup and fashion. I want to stay true to myself, doing what  I enjoy. If I stray off this path, you have permission to torment me. Let the next year be filled with the sense of freedom and eternal happiness that comes with wind blowing through long hair, beautiful sunsets, refreshing lake water, inside jokes, and so much more of this beautiful world we live in. Don't let others take over your life and force you to change. Do what makes you happy. Learn lots. Read lots. Soak in all the information that life has to give you. Be that 12 year old you've always wanted to be, the one who climbs trees and takes photos and writes and reads all day long. Live in your own little world, but make sure that little world stays connected with Earth. Be a day dreamer, in other words, but always keep your feet firmly on the ground, unless you've gotta leap to reach your dreams, which I strongly encourage you to do. I'm a confusing one, aren't I? Well, just go for your dreams and be in your world and try not to think too much about what the rest of the world is doing (unless it's essential to avoid losing this wonderful life altogether). Run around and play games and be the epic being that you are.

Don't lose sight of who you used to be and who you can be.
Love ya,
Hanna

Well that wasn't really much of a letter to 11, but a wonderful letter it was anyways. Photos to come once I get home in a week or so.

New Look and Some Writing

You may have noticed that this blog has a new look! Thanks to Kati for the wonderful new header. Hope you enjoy the new design!

I've decided to post a non-fiction writing piece of mine today. I wrote it one day when I was feeling insightful. Please read and comment! Here it is.

Memories: Who I Am

               

There is an old cardboard box under my bed. Inside are many photos from past years. Every once in a while I take it out. I am reminded of who I am. This is what I discover.

The photo of me at a photography class (I took such amazing photos!) reminds me of how I was uncomfortable, or so I remember, because everyone else was older than me. I am reminded of the part of me that is determined to do something, the one who is way ahead of her age. The matureness I have.

There is the photo of me in my Brownies uniform, proudly holding up two fingers in the Brownie sign. It reminds me of the awesome times with Dolly and my fellow Brownies, my 3^rd year of being in Guiding.  The feeling I remember for Brownies is indescribable. It is uncomfortable, determined and crazy all at the same time.

The numerous photos of me, smiling my buck-teeth smile, reminds me of what a unique, special person I am.  I didn’t care much for that smile, or how weird I may have looked. I was beautiful inside, whether I knew it or not.

The photo of me next to a dog, eyes as far sideways as they will go, tongue lolling out. I imitate the dog so playfully and yet well. It reminds me of the animal lover inside me the one that cuddles my cat for hours just to feel her fur. The one who knows that when all else fails a pet or other animal will always listen.

Under my bed is not the only place I find myself. There is the old writing book on my bookshelf, which I filled out when I was just 6 or 7, although the book was aimed at tweens and teens. My writings were so expected and basic, but yet had the unexpectedness and creativity that draws you into a good book. I didn’t answer the question about when I realized I was no longer a child, because I was still one.

 I have an odd memory of thinking that the moment I realized that would be something so simple and dumb, like getting an adult-priced haircut, or reading YA books. But coming of age is so much more than that. It is about discovering who you are, growing in all different directions, and being stretched to the breaking point before being allowed to relax again. Becoming who you are isn’t about what books you read or who old you. It’s about finding yourself among the swirling storm of who you want to be and who you should be. I’m just starting that, and have a long journey ahead of me. I’ll see you on the other side.

It's raw writing (un-edited) so it's not perfect. But I like it. Thanks for reading!
♥Hanna♥

P.S. I've got a poll asking what you think of this blog on your right, so please take it and tell me how to improve this blog! Thanks again!