Emma asked:

It was a freezing cold night in the middle of winter. A strange little boy, around the age of ten, lay under his old blue blanket in the most scummy orphanage in the country. All the children in the orphanage were shivering but he was most of all . The little boys name was Thomas. Everyone called him Tomato though because his face was round and became as red as one when he was embarrassed, and that happened a lot. Thomas was small, clumsy and wasn’t talented at anything. Until one day when everything changed.

It was the morning after a big storm. Thomas sat on the side of his bed trying to tie his shoe laces when the old hag, who was running the orphanage at the time, stormed into his room. She looked angry. Very angry. And when she is angry it’s not good. “Who used my toothbrush to clean the toilet!” He turned to look at the small five or so year old sitting on the bed next to him finishing off her homework. Obviously the other girls in her room had pushed her out to do their make up but Johno, the boy with the bed across from him let her sit there. She was new. She turned her head up to him and a terrified look quickly slid onto her face and the black eye that she had received yesterday twitched. He quickly turned to Mrs. Brute, cleared his throat and trying to sound guilty said “It was me,…… Mrs. Brute.” Thomas closed his eyes and prepared for an onslaught of insults and an horrible punishment to be yelled and spat at his face. But after thirty seconds of clenching his eyes shut he started to wonder what was happening in the world outside of his mind and the back of his clenched eyelids. So he opened his eyes and saw that Gertrude Brute had a smirk on her face. She opened her mouth as if she was about to say something, then closed it again she finally said while pointing at him “Do you think that after twenty years of looking after you little brats, that I wouldn’t be able to tell when one of you was lying?”. He thought for a minute and replied in army style “No, Ma’am”. Then she turned and stared at the little girl, whose name Thomas now remembered as Lily. Lily closed her eyes and prepared for Gertrude’s spitting cry. But no, Mrs. Brute knelt close to Lily and whispered “If you, EVER, touch my toothbrush again,” then she stood up and yelled “If anyone, EVER, touches my toothbrush again. There will be consequences to pay!” And from that she stormed out of the shabby little room and into the palely painted corridor. And to no one’s surprise she went straight into her office to, as some say, have a large glass of sherry.

After that all the boys and girls of the orphanage headed down stairs to collect their lunch from the kind cook at the orphanage. Everyone loved her because she sometimes gave them chocolate chip cookies or boiled lollies. Today Thomas had a ham and pickle sandwich. He hated pickles. Sometimes he pretended he was allergic to them to get out of eating them. Luckily, Thomas had been saving up all the five and ten cent coins that he could get. And today, if he finally got ten cents more, he could buy a hot apple pie from Mac Donald’s on the way home. “Mmmm…..” he thought to himself, his stomach grumbling. As he made his way down the hill that separated the edge of town from the school grounds.

Lily had maths first. She hated maths. Luckily today she had done her homework and was in a slightly better mood because one of the kind older boys had stood up for her when she had used Mrs. Brute’s (or Mrs. Grouch as she liked to call her) toothbrush on her toilet cleaning duties. Ever since that one night when her mother bundled her in clothes and dropped poor Lily on the doorstep of that awful place Mrs. Grouch calls Swindle Orphanage Lily’s life had been horrid. She had been picked on (by students, teachers, and Mrs Grouch), had items stolen from her (including her favourite flower watch her father gave her) and she had been punched up twice at least by the school bully each week. She hoped today would be better than the last. A shiver crawled up her spine at the thought of it.

The end of the day came at last and Lily was making her way back up the hill that led to the place she called home. It was a Thursday and so that meant Mrs. Grouch was in town getting her nails done (though no one could tell the difference before and after). So she went on a detour through the park.

Meanwhile Thomas had endured a horrible day of Science, English, Maths and L.O.T.E. It was the worst day of the week. Thursday. The only good part about it was the fact that he didn’t have to rush home because Mrs. Brute was getting her nails done. So he took a detour to Mac Donalds and got his apple pie before going for his usual detour through the park to look for new leaf buds that showed spring was on the way. He walked around the centre garden circle and in through his hole in the rose bushes that were so thick that even in the winter he couldn’t be seen inside. Some of the vines had grown over the insi
I really need help!?! It’s not finished I made the storyline far to long for this school writing project. Help me cut it down and think of a title.

JamieL asked:

I have been searching for a while now and I cant seem to find one anywhere. They have flags and shirts but not blankets…. any sugestions?

Immortal. asked:

I’m studying a poem by Margaret Junkin Preston and it’s called ‘A Bivouac In The Snow’. It’s about the American Civil War (The War Between The States).

In the poem it makes a reference to a ‘Xerxian army’.
Here is the whole stanza.

Round the bright blaze gather,
Heed not sleet or cold;
Ye are Spartan soldiers,
Stout and brave and bold.
Never Xerxian amy
Yet subdued a foe
Who asked but a blanket
On a bed of snow.

Does anyone know what the ‘Xerxian army’ is in reference to? I can’t seem to find it anywhere..

Any help, even just ideas or thoughts would be good.
Thanks

Lara N asked:

i’m making a blanket for my boyfriend for a christmas present because he is in the national guard and going to be in africa for a year and he leaves in may. I am going to have a bible verse about safety and protection embroidered on the back of the blanket. but i do not know any off the top of my head. also can anyone think of another good verse to do with love that i can put on there too. we are going to get engaged when he comes back next year so i want something to represent how much i care about him and stuff. any ideas will gladly be welcome. thank you.

Hulktress <3's Nathan G!! asked:

I do, i wished my granddaddy was still here, he told the best stories. I cant remember alot but he told me one time, when he was stationed in Europe because of WWII, this very old poor woman, came up to him and asked for a army blanket so she could make a coat out of it. And he gave it to her My grandaddy was sooo nice and inspirational even though his life was so hard and sad.

JamieL asked:

Does anyone know if they exist and if so where are they hidden? Thanks

shellshell asked:

Since my husband left for training (Army) HIS CAT WILL NOT STOP ****** ON THE COUCH! At first I thought is was because she missed someone being home for 10 hours a day no one was home. Then i quit my job and she is STILL DOING IT only now she does it while i am in bed not while i am up. Her litter is the same her food has SLOWLY CHANGED she was on kitten and moved her to indoor nothing else has changed she has ALMOST RUINED the couch she has peed on it so much! I’ve tried all the urine removers I even wrapped the cushions in trashbags and then covered the couch with a blanket still nothing she pees to the back of the couch to where in is on the back and then runs down to under the cushions. So now the whole back of the couch and the underside is soaked in urine AGIAN this will be the 3rd time in 5 months I have had to completly strip the cushions and SCRUB the couch. HELP I AM GOING INSAINE!?!?!? My house stinks and I **** IT. And YES her litter is clean and the vet says she is fine!
Do you think maybe a litter box on the couch would help? I am open for any suggestions other than the obvious of getting rid of her.
No this isnt where he sat it is where I sat I took over his spot out of missing him.

Yes she is locked out of my bedroom at night but always has been we have had her since birth so that is nothing new to her.
No visitors on the nights she does it and she usually sleeps on the other couch (where he held her and played with her). Nothing new at all on the nights she does it. Anymore that you need to know feel free to ask if it will help you help me lol.
AND NO WORRIES I WILL NOT GET RID OF HER!!! She is his cat and that is HIS choice!

Rich asked:

I’m currently in the military deployed to Iraq. When I get back, I will have one year remaining on my contract. I will soon be faced with the decision on whether to stay in or get out.

By the time I get out, I will have served six years and will be at the pay grade of E-5. I have no college under my belt. After getting out, I will not be able to attend college, because I have a family to support. Since I only have experience in combat arms, the best paying job that I can get is with Federal, State, or Local Law Enforcement.

Would it be more beneficial to retire from law enforcement or the military? If I stay in the Army I will have to continue to miss out on my four year old daughter growing up, and miss another countless amount of occasions with my wife. However, I don’t ever have to worry about them going homeless or hungry.

If I get out, I still have a chance at being successful and would be alot happier having the opportunity to come home every day and have a higher earning potential. However, I have to gamble with living on the economy. And that’s even if I actually secure a job with some department.

From my comparisons, it would seem that getting out would be a good option for me, but for some reason, deep down inside I couldn’t imagine getting out of the military, even with the deployments (currently on #2), and putting up with the other BS about being in the military. I don’t even know if I love the military or **** it, my mind changes twenty times a day.

Am I just afraid to take chance in the outside world? Has my six years in the military given me a security blanket that I don’t want to let go of? Or is it a sense of patriotism keeping me in? It’s gotta be something. I’m seriously about to go nuts trying to make my mind up.

I know that there’s alot of you out there that has been through this. What did you decide to do and do you regret your decision? Thanks in advance for the replies.

ilovemyjori asked:

Im stationed in Iraq with the army and i’ve been here a little over 2 months. I have 10 months left on my tour and i keep having this dream and its driving me nuts i dont exactly understand what it means.

Me and my wife just recently bought a new sectional couch just before i deployed because i was going to be making so much money over here. I keep having this dream here that me and her are cuddled on the couch wrapped up in blankets *****. And we’re kissing each other and keeping each other warm cause its winter. I go home in February for leave so its going to be cold. We’re kissing and saying how much we love each other. Oh and then i keep saying how much i cant wait for our child to get here. She’ll be 7 months pregnant and february and thats the only part of the pregnancy i’ll be home for. I understand the fact of the possibility that i miss her and thats how i feel comfortable but is there more to the dream.

And yes the childs mine i found out 2 days before i deployed she was pregnant. Thanks for your time and sorry its so long

seamus g asked:

“The doctor’s hands were gripping the rail of the bed, his eyes fixed on the small tortured body. Suddenly it stiffened, and seemed to give a little at the waist, as slowly the arms and legs spread out X-wise. From the body, ***** under an army blanket, rose a smell of damp wool and stale sweat. The boy had gritted his teeth again. Then very gradually he relaxed, bringing his arms and legs back toward the center of the bed, still without speaking or opening his eyes, and his breathing seemed to quicken. Rieux looked at Tarrou, who hastily lowered his eyes. They had already seen children die- for many months now death had shown no favoritism- but they had never yet watched a child’s agony minute by minute, as they had now been doing since daybreak. Needless to say, the pain inflicted on those innocent victims had always seemed to them to be in fact what it was: an abominable thing. But hitherto they had felt its abomination in, so to speak, an abstract way; they had never had to witness over so long a period the death-throes of an innocent child.”- The Plague, Albert Camus