My school is going to France and Spain over spring break.
I can’t go, but I think it’s so exciting that Ojai Valley School gives its students the opportunity to travel in Europe!
OVS is collaborating with a company called Education First, and will be traveling in France and Spain for 11 days in April, 2013.
But the part of the trip I think is OUTSTANDING is that our students are going to Paris in the spring.
They’re going to visit:
The OVS football team traveled to Lee Vining for the team’s first football game of the season. For those that are completely unaware of how far Lee Vining actually is from Ojai, the team needed to camp out overnight before reaching Lee Vining. Tinnemaha Creek was the stop for the team the first night, which was Thursday. We pulled in at about 10 PM and unpacked for the night. We relaxed and slept before we set off on Friday morning for Lee Vining.
Before leaving, we did a walkthrough of our plays for the game at Tinnemaha Creek. We got our work done and packed back up. We got on the road and moved on to our final destination.
Lee Vining is a very small town, but we aren’t here to sight-see. We came to do some business, and we plan on doing just that. With another practice session in the afternoon, we go into our game confident that we will be at our best. The game is tomorrow (Saturday) at 1 PM.
On to more miscellaneous things!!!
Let’s talk about the trip up here. 
There was music blasting and tons of inside jokes that I’m sure we are never going to forget. At our campsite, food is never an issue. Not only do we have a lot to eat, but we have a lot of guys that LOVE to eat. What do you expect from a bunch of crazed football players?
As I write this update, we are cooking a rather large pre-game dinner.
How could you say no to a meal like this?
At the campsites, we are finding ways to stay occupied. When we aren’t exploring or practicing, we are having a good ol’ time with the boys. Some can be seen off in the distance learning how to throw a ball properly, others are off wandering in to the great never ending creek, building wooden fishing rods with hooks (most likely infected with tetanus), or building makeshift fish traps. With so much to explore and so many unruly teenage boys always expect the unexpected.
The end of this story ends with two of the coolest guys around sitting at a gas station/restaurant/convenience store/bar writing a blog using internet off of an iPhone’s hotspot while Mr. Floyd and Mr. Wick just sit and watch us type away to entertain all of you readers, no matter where you may be.
John “The Honey Badger” Olivo and Keaton “That Guy” Shiffman signing off on night one in Lee Vining. Check for more blog posts to see if mama and baby bear left us alone tonight.
Lives are at stake here. Please send help (just kidding).
This is going to be more of just me talking but I’m gonna throw a worst person in there too for a little bit. But there’s a lot I wanna talk about.
First off, for anyone that plays fantasy football, I want to advise against one thing for any league you do in the future. Try to avoid family members. It just never ends well. I’m in a league that is only my family and it’s really been something. I’m going to offer a few nonexistent yet hilarious “awards” today.
First award goes to the best sleeper draft pick. A sleeper is a player that no one really thought was going to do that great but had a lot of potential. This player wasn’t highly sought after during the draft, but was stilled picked up. Usually sleepers are taken with late picks like the 10th or 11th round. This year, my mother of all people decided to pick up the biggest sleeper in the 4th round.
That player is Reggie Bush.
I’ll be honest. My mother was talking about drafting Reggie Bush the whole time. I’ll also tell you that if I got to the 8th round and he was still there, I was taking him. With the exception of my mother and I, no one saw his potential on a Dolphins team with no other weapons. My only issue with this is that 1) I’m playing against my mother this week and 2) she took him WAAAAY too early and missed out on bigger name players. However, that’s coming from someone that is 1-1 after the first two weeks. She’s 2-0.Read More »
Abraham took Isaac‘s hand
And led him to the lonesome hill
While his daughter hid and watched
She dared not breathe; she was so still
Just as an angel cried for the slaughter
Abraham’s daughter raised her voice
Then the angel asked her what her name was
She said, “I have none.”
Then he asked, “How can this be?”
“My father never gave me one.”
And when he saw her raised for the slaughter
Abraham’s daughter raised her bow
“How darest you, child, defy your father?”
“You better let young Isaac go.”
-“Abraham’s Daughter,” by Arcade Fire
The story of Abraham and Isaac is one of the most important in the Old Testament.
God wants to test Abraham’s devotion to, and fear of him. So he commands Abraham to sacrifice his son, Isaac, as a testament to his loyalty. Abraham takes Isaac to a mountain and tells him to gather up wood for a sacrifice. When Isaac asks where the lamb for slaughter is, Abraham replies, “God will provide the lamb,” and together they ascend.
Abraham then lays Isaac down and raises his knife.
Convinced that Abraham is sufficiently God-fearing, an angel descends and stays his hand, thus, saving Isaac.
“I will miss you so much. Take care and love ya.”
Here I am, sitting on this particular rock, the place we used to share together, and enjoying the last piece of sunshine of the day. I cried.
Stepped into my room – 105, my brand new junior life started. I smelled your lotion, and then laughed as we used to do. Then I played that song which we used to sing along to together. I miss you, my roommate.
“Good morning everyone!” “Good morning…!” No more exaggerated but joyful laughter as the beginning of a canty day. I miss you, my sweet Serry.
“I want you, you and you to run four miles while everybody else go for Backgate please.” I joined crosscountry team this year, but you left. We miss you, our best runner Reika.
“What’s for breakfast today?” “Your favorite Waffle!” I’ve been used to sitting here, the seat next to you, but not you anymore. No one will get the meal for me and then wait with a tender smile before I get there. I miss you, my superman.
The things are still there, but men are no more the same ones. The days we spent together are only for once, however, even though we try to hold it as tightly as we can. Memories will never vanish.
Win a few, lose a few. That’s life.
“I hope this gives you power, bravery, and warmness. And I’ll see you soon.”
Here I am, running through this particular forest, the place we used to strive together, and greeting the first streak of amber moonlight. I smiled.
Yes, I’ll see you soon.
A tadpole swims around in a pond.
It wonders where its mother has gone.
Eventually the tadpole forgets.
The tadpole grows legs and begins to kick.
The tail stops growing and gets very short.
The tadpole tastes air and pines for more.
Soon enough the tadpoles arms are there.
Where they will take her she knows not where.
The tail is now but a nub.
The gills now seem like a dud.
She climbs onto land without gills
And begins to hop into the hills.
She has eggs and lays them in the pond.
They will wonder where their mother has gone.
If all you need is love
Then what is oxygen
And air?
What is food
And shelter
And safety?
What is security
And education
And support?
You do not need love
But crave it
And want it
But maybe that’s what necessity is.
His old hands are ready. He lets out a sigh and reaches for his paintbrush. For him, painting has evolved from a hobby into an obsession.
His weathered fingers clutch the brush carefully, examining the shape and age. He views his subject. His grip tightens as he combines colors into the shades he desires.
His first stroke comes with a splash of a deep blue. The brush has become an extension of himself. He takes another stroke, slowly mixing in white paint until his deep blue has become as pale as the midday sky.
The cool air blows across his face. A face that has been weathered by a life lived and time passed. Each crevice in his skin is a symbol of his experiences.
The sand brushes against his legs, slowly aging the skin. Yet his painting continues, never ceasing.
His arthritic joints have become painful once again. He winces at every movement. His painting is near completion mere strokes away from finality.
His hands no longer obey him and he must begin to slow.
With a fine needle he signs his name and titles the piece.
His painting complete.
“I sat within a valley green
I sat with me my true love
My sad heart strove to choose between
The old love and the new love
The old for her, the new that made
Me think on Ireland dearly
While soft the wind blew down the glade
And shook the golden barley
‘Twas hard the woeful words to frame
To break the ties that bound us
But harder still to bear the weight
Of foreign chains around us
And so I said, “The mountain glen
I’ll seek at morning early,
And join the brave United Men
While soft winds shake the barley.”
While sad I kissed away her tears
My fond arms ‘round her flinging
The foeman’s shot burst on our ears
From out the wildwood ringing
A bullet pierced my true love’s side
In life’s young spring so early
And on my breast in blood she died
While soft winds shook the barley
I bore her to some mountain stream
And many the summer’s blossom
I placed with branches soft and green
About her gore-stained bosom
I wept and kissed her clay-cold corpse
Then rushed o’er vale and valley
My vengeance on the foe to wreak
While soft wind shook the barley
But blood for blood without remorse
I’ve taken at Oulart Hollow
And laid my true love’s clay-cold corpse
Where I full soon may follow
As ‘round her grave I wander drear
Noon, night and morning early
With breaking heart when e’er I hear
The wind that shakes the barley“
–Robert Dwyer Joyce, “The Wind That Shakes the Barley.”
This poem was written about the 1798 Irish Rebellion, a conflict opposing British rule in Ireland.
It is told from the perspective of a young Irish rebel, torn between his lover and his desire to fight for his country.Read More »
Up until eight years ago, I was the younger sibling in my family. I had my brother up until then, who is two years older than me. When my mom told me that I was going to have a little sister, I was ecstatic. I always thought of my brother as being a meanie, so I was hoping that with some luck, Hope, my little sister, would be a great addition to the family. Turns out she is quite the trouble maker.
Before I had my little sister around, I was stuck with my big brother, Cole. Cole and I have never seen eye to eye. He was the annoying ten year-old bothersome brother that I think most sisters get stuck with. Anyways, Cole probably didn’t like me very much when I was younger. It would explain why he always smashed my Lego houses after I was done building them. Or maybe he just wanted his Legos back. The world will never know. I think Cole and I get along much better now that we are older. We still of course keep on calling each other names. I don’t think that is ever going to change.
Oh Hope. Where to begin with Hope? My little eight year-old sister who thinks that she is the boss of me. She was the sweetest thing alive until the age of two. I knew she would be trouble when she broke my nose with a flashlight. I got to give her credit for having such strength at the age of two. Somedays, I wish I could put her in a soundproof bubble though. Other days, she is the cutest thing alive. It mostly depends if I’m willing to play with her or if she has to jump on me to get my attention.
The three of us are pretty awesome together. At times, we want to kill each other, but that’s siblings for you. No matter how much you hate them that day, they are the best family you got. I love my brother and sister (most days) and I wouldn’t trade them for the world.
OVS Journalism Blog 
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