KIDS
THE
AUSTRALIA
Vol. 2 No. 5 May 2014
TIMES
®
KIDS
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Welcome to the May 2014 issue
of The Australia Times Kids
Magazine.
In this issue, we have colouring vegetables and 3D
shapes (Part 2). We also have another poetry from
Barnaby Wild. Besides this, we have two great
stories from Rowville writers, Barbara Scott with her
series More than One Solution and Elio Baldan with
his story for older children The Labyrinth of the Red
Dragon.
We do hope that you will enjoy this issue of the
magazine.
Anies Hannawati
TAT Kids Editor
CONTRIBUTORS:
Barbara Scott
Barnaby Wild
Elio Baldan
A Welcome
from the
EDITOR
WHAT’S INSIDE?
THE
AUSTRALIA
TIMES
KIDS
KIDS ACTIVITIES 3++
COLOURING VEGETABLES 5
KIDS ACTIVITIES 6++
3D SHAPE: CUBE (PART 2) 17
KIDS POETRY: ALL AGES
IF ELEPHANTS WERE REALLY SMALL 33
COLOUR IN SECTION 39
KIDS STORY 7++
DAMIAN THE DISCOVERER 45
COLOUR IN SECTION 55
KIDS STORY 10++
THE LABYRINTH OF THE RED DRAGON 61
COLOUR IN SECTION 75
We aim to inform, entertain, teach, encourage, educate and
support the community at large by facilitating communication
between all Australians.
By providing the opportunity for all opinions to be shared on
a single website.
ARCHIVE
COMMENT
FORUM
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Vegetables
COLOURING
Resources and material are taken from
http://peaceofmindeducation.wordpress.com
Kids Activities: 3++
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Kids Activities: 3++
red
pepper
Red Pepper, Flomar, http://www.openclipart.org
Colour the
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Kids Activities: 3++
CUCUMBER
Colour the
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Kids Activities: 3++
BROCCOLI
Colour the
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Kids Activities: 3++
Vector Kawaii Vegetables, Charles Esquiaqui, http://snap2objects.com
CORN
Colour the
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Kids Activities: 3++
SCALLION
Colour the
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Kids Activities: 3++
Vector Kawaii Vegetables, Charles Esquiaqui, http://snap2objects.com
POTATOES
Colour the
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Kids Activities: 3++
MUSHROOMS
Colour the
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Kids Activities: 3++
Vector Kawaii Vegetables, Charles Esquiaqui, http://snap2objects.com
PEAS
Colour the
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3D SHAPE
PART TWO
CUBE
Resources and material are taken from
http://peaceofmindeducation.wordpress.com
Kids Activities: 6++
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Which cube was not made from the net?
Hint: You may need to cut the net and form the cube
Kids Activities: 6++
A B C D
Answer: B
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Which cube was not made from the net?
Hint: You may need to cut the net and form the cube
Kids Activities: 6++
A B C D
Answer: D
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Kids Activities: 6++
Which cube was not made from the net?
Hint: You may need to cut the net and form the cube
A B C D
Answer: A
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Kids Activities: 6++
Which cube was not made from the net?
Hint: You may need to cut the net and form the cube
A B C D
Answer: C
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Kids Activities: 6++
Which cube was not made from the net?
Hint: You may need to cut the net and form the cube
A B C D
Answer: B
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Kids Activities: 6++
Which cube was not made from the net?
Hint: You may need to cut the net and form the cube
A B C D
Answer: C
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Kids Activities: 6++
Which cube was not made from the net?
Hint: You may need to cut the net and form the cube
A B C D
Answer: B
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Kids Activities: 6++
Which cube was not made from the net?
Hint: You may need to cut the net and form the cube
A B C D
Answer: D
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Kids Activities: 6++
Which cube was not made from the net?
Hint: You may need to cut the net and form the cube
A B C D
Answer: B
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Kids Activities: 6++
Which cube was not made from the net?
Hint: You may need to cut the net and form the cube
A B C D
Answer: A
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Kids Poetry: All Ages
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If elephants were really small
we’d scarcely notice them at all,
unless a ock should run amok
and make a nest amongst our socks.
Or else we found one in our bed,
snoring, t to wake the dead.
(Or would they trumpet through the night?
Tiny fanfares? Well, they might).
Kids Poetry: All Ages
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Perhaps if they were middle sized
and blue, they might be highly prized
as pets and taken to the coast
to see which one could build the most
exciting castle in the sand.
Assuming they could understand
the concept and their lack of hands
was not too much to spoil their plans.
Kids Poetry: All Ages
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But, what if they were really big,
like, say, an offshore drilling rig.
Or absolutely ippin’ vast
like some huge iceberg drifting past
with all ten tenths in view
and pink, not blue.
Perhaps we should not speculate.
This thought’s too big to contemplate.
Kids Poetry: All Ages
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Then again, if they were thin and tall,
we might not notice them at all
and they could have a lot of laughs
telling jokes to bored giraffes;
while we hung hammocks from their knees
(thinking they were simply trees)
and drinking cappuccino from a cup,
never wondering nor looking up.
Kids Poetry: All Ages
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BARNABY WILD is the pen name of Tim Fisher an author who lives in
Devon UK and who delights in writing quirky verses and short stories.
He has several books available including Flowers for Mercedes and
Barnaby’s Big Book of Shorts which contains 30 coffee break sized
short stories.
Barnaby has very kindly shared some of his work with us on TAT. You
can read more of Barnaby’s work on his very interesting personal blog
site at
http://barnabywildeauthor.blogspot.co.uk/
or follow him on Twitter: @barnaby_wilde.
Author’s website www.barnaby-wilde.co.uk
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Kids Story: 7++
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Kids Story: 7++
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Damian was having trouble deciding what to pack and what to
leave behind. He and his parents were leaving Melbourne to live in
Queensland. He wasn’t happy about it, but all his friends were telling
him how lucky he was. There was so much you could do in Queensland,
they would tell him, a shade of envy in their voices. Especially if you
lived near the beach: swimming, surng, shing and sunshine.
‘So what.’ Damian thought,’ What about football?’
He picked up his footy gear to pack. He took one last look at his
number on the back of his jersey and decided instead to put it on
the heap of precious things to go to the Salvos...or into the rubbish
bin.
“You ready yet Damian?” his mother called.
“Coming” Halfway to the door, Damian turned back. He grabbed his
footy jersey back from the ‘Salvos’ pile, and went out to the car.
Well, that was it, they were on their way, all their ‘goodbyes’ said,
and into the car. Most things were being sent up by transport, but
overnight things and important things, like Damian’s I-pad, were in
the car.
There was a lot of time for thinking on the way up; mostly questions,
but no answers. The main thing he wanted to know was what sort of
football did they play, and would he be able to join a team...a junior
team, or a school team. He wondered, too, what the kids would be
like. Would they be as good as his friends back in Melbourne? Would
they accept him? Would he have to learn new things like this’ surng’
stuff one of his friends talked about?
Kids Story: 7++
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Kids Story: 7++
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Kids Story: 7++
The rst thing he discovered at the new school was Rugby. He wasn’t
happy, but what could he do? The kids made him welcome enough;
some of them. The teacher took him aside for the rst practice
game to explain the rules and the object of the game. It was hot out
there on the eld; the heat and the teacher’s explanations left him
feeling confused. Damian wasn’t sorry when the bell rang and the
class was dismissed.
“See you tomorrow, Damian. You’ll get the hang of it.” Damian wasn’t
too sure about that.
‘Tomorrow’ brought a tropical thunderstorm; something new to
Damian, and Rugby practice was exchanged for Woodwork; not
Damian’s favourite subject. He stood waiting for instructions about
what he was expected to do, feeling miserable. All the old, negative
feelings he’d had about moving to Queensland crowded back into his
mind, and now, to make matters worse, it was boring woodwork.
He looked around to see what the rest of the class was doing. All
doing the same thing, by the looks of it. Each one had pulled out
from a vertical shelf, a large wooden object, part made, and laid it
on a bench. Head bent, and totally absorbed, each student worked
hard with sandpaper blocks, shaping his piece of wood; standing back
to admire his work, then working hard again to get the exact shape
he wanted.
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Damian and a boy named Frank had begun to get to know each other.
“What’s this Frank? What are you trying to make?”
‘’’Can’t you see Damian? It’s a Skife board. I practise on it to get
my balance -til I get my surfboard. When I nish it will be the best
one in the class and I’ll be the best in the Surng class ...I hope.”
“Surng class! What’s that Frank?”
“Down at Coolangatta, there’s a surng school for kids every Saturday
morning.” Frank looked up at Damian, his face was deadly serious.
“Beats Rugby.” he added with feeling. “Like to come?”
Damian wasn’t sure yet. “I’ll have to ask my parents.”
At last the teacher came over to Damian and handed him a large
piece of board.
“I’ll show you how to go about shaping the board and leave you to it.
Any questions, just ask. O.K.? Frank is pretty good at this, so watch
him.”
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By Saturday morning the stormy weather had left and a perfect,
sunny day took its place. Damian had got the O.K. from his parents to
join the surng class at Coolangatta, and he was off to meet Frank.
He wasn’t sure about taking up surng instead of Rugby. He still felt
a bit glum about leaving his friends and his footy team in Melbourne.
But it would be good to make friends with Frank.
The surng instructor, Mr. Broadman, or Wally, as the kids were
allowed to call him, called the class together and checked them out.
He introduced Damian and handed him the surfboard he had selected
to suit Damian’s physique. Each student had already collected his
allocated surf board and stood awaiting instructions.
Basic instructions were given rst, always repeated at the start of
each session, and always included safety rules which he hammered
in sternly.
Then Wally continued.
“I’ve heard a lot of complaints about how surng isn’t much fun, it’s
too hard to catch a wave ...” he mimicked a prissy little girl. “Lotta
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Kids Story: 7++
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Kids Story: 7++
rot! There are plenty of them out there all the time, though some
better than others, just up to you to catch them. Listen carefully,
and I’ll tell you my secret.”
Wally looked around, xing eye-to-eye on everyone, even Damian.
“Lots of riders grab a wave and sit on it, expecting the wave to do
all the work before they stand up on their board and ride it. They
paddle a bit, like a weak old lady, and the wave slips out from under
them. The wave is faster than they are paddling. They have lost it.”
Wally glared around at every face. ‘He sounds just like my footy
coach. Nag, nag, nag.’ thought Damian.
“Now listen and remember. When you see a likely wave, paddle out
and turn, just in front of it. Start paddling when you are on the rise
of the wave and just below the crest. Don’t stand yet, just paddle
like mad! As hard as hell, harder than you ever thought you could,
that’s the rst part of the trick. Now, this is the important thing.
As soon as you feel the wave under your board starting to go faster
than you are paddling, stand up and ride it. Got it? Now, into the
water, let’s all have a go.”
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Kids Story: 7++
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Kids Story: 7++
Damian quietly digested this. He was thinking’ This wasn’t unlike
footy practice. Wally did sound a bit like his old coach in Melbourne.
The message was always about trying and working your hardest. No-
one else will do it for you. The football...and the wave, can always get
away from you if you let it....Right! I’ll have a go. Damian decided.
Out on the water, the deep aqua blue colour was so beautiful. Damian
felt the delicious, soft, cold feel of the water wrapping itself around
him. The froth on top of the waves felt as though it was kissing his
skin.
He was no expert yet, but the next wave coming towards Damian
looked like a good one, he would give it a try. What had Wally said?
He turned his board to ride the wave. “Paddle like mad, harder than
you think you ever could. Bust yourself!” Damian thought he could
hear his old footy coach yelling in his ear, and he responded.
“Wow! Yes I can feel the wave start to speed up. Yowwww.” And
Damian stood without thinking about it. The thrill of it! “It’s as good
as watching your football sail easily through the goalposts.”
As he and his board reached the shallows, Damian thought he had
never felt anything so good and he imagined he heard Granddad in his
ear. “There’s always more than one solution.” ‘And this is it.’ breathed
Damian, I’ve discovered surng.’
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Original illustration for Damian the Discoverer by Barbara Scott
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Kids Story: 10++
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Kids Story: 10++
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Peter and John are inseparable friends; they have similar feelings
and the strong desire for exploration. They live away from the city,
each on a farm this side of Ballarat. This is gold country, the soil
around this town having provided legendary wealth, which in turn
attracts people whose right to explore is recognized by a receipt
and a document stating boundaries and the warning not to trespass.
On this particular morning, after making ready for school, Peter met
with John at the gate. The journey to town taking forty minutes and
having to enter class by nine o’clock.
“Let’s take the shortcut, John!” Peter’s enthusiasm was enough to
make his mate agree.
“Alright, but only for this once. You know what will happen if our
mums nd out.”
“Just this once! Agreed.”
Kids Story: 10++
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Kids Story: 10++
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And so they began the march, at times walking and others running
and then in between kicking pebbles, dead branches and even the
dried-up kangaroo poo that given a favourable incline rolled all the
way down the gorge.
The shortcut took them to the eucalyptus forest, so green and thick
with perfume to make you dizzy. Peter saw a rabbit warren, the
entrance enough to t a dog, or a small person, even him if he tried.
“Look! What do you think it leads to?” With John that had kept
on walking and was already some way ahead, having to turn back to
satisfy his mate’s curiosity.
“C’mon Peter! We are already late, we would be wasting our time
going where rabbits sleep.”
“But look! It’s fun to explore and nd things we never had a clue
about. I’m going to see.” And after dropping down his backpack,
Peter began to squeeze through the opening. His last word before
disappearing was a mufed sound inciting John to follow. And what
could John do but go down on his knees and trail behind?
Kids Story: 10++
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Kids Story: 10++
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The warren was a long passage, like a pipe which twists and turns
as it went down, its odour that of fur and the typical musty smell
of earth. It was dark, John came in contact with Peter when he
accidentally took a longer stride and his head nished up against
Peter’s bum.
“Oi! Don’t get too close. mate!” Joking to extract a laugh since by
now he was in need of fresh air and already panicking he wouldn’t be
able to turn back. John only inches away having the exact wish while
suddenly feeling terried.
“Keep going… I’ve heard my dad say that warrens and mineshafts
have more than one entrance … if we go further we are sure to nd
an exit.” His voice a little shaky, his legs sore for pushing within a
limited space.
Then suddenly a faint sign of light, some two or three metres in
front.
“C’mon, we’re almost out the other side,” said Peter, his face dusty,
his shirt and trousers in need of a wash. His nal effort to get out of
the trap so frantic he shot out of the hole like a bullet out of a gun!
John right behind him, eyes tearing because of the dust, half-blind
and unable to make sense of the new surrounds. They had, after all,
nished up in a cave, large enough to have a table for ten and three
cooks to offer a feast.
Kids Story: 10++
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Kids Story: 10++
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“Where are we?” Asked John, not expecting an answer since his
mate Peter stood there speechless. The grotto’s rough walls were lit
by a ssure in the ceiling and on one side showing a number of steps
going down somewhere.
“We’ll be late for school. Let’s nd how to get out and go.” Peter’s
voice was a little shaky, his heart thumping hard inside his chest.
“There’s no exit, nothing I can see that may lead outside,” said John,
also apprehensive for the situation they were in. What to do? Could
they yell their lungs out when the chances of being heard were one
million to one?
“Let’s go down those steps, they might lead to another entrance.”
“Yeah… alright,” replied John, the vision of a scolding from mum
forming in his mind. For although he had the sweetest parents one
could wish, they would not forgive him for having done what they
always warned him about: the miners’ trenches, especially the shafts
that seemed bottomless.
One step after the other, the two mates went down - ten, twenty,
thirty steps and still without an end in sight, the darkness getting
darker as they descended to the bottom of what seemed an endless
pit. Suddenly there was noise, like scratching dirt to dig a hole. Both
boys felt their heart jump in their throat.
And down just behind the corner, they saw the light intensifying.
Peter and John grabbing on to each other’s arms, one of the two
being rude and mentioning stuff that goes down the toilet!
Kids Story: 10++
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Kids Story: 10++
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One, two, three more steps and nding themselves facing an open
space on which an old man kept digging to ll many buckets with
dirt. The noise he made of help to keep the boys anonymous. Must
have been deaf, for Peter and John stayed motionless in fear of his
presence, only daring to watch while their choked breath kept them
barely alive.
Dig… dig, scratch… scratch and another cupful of dirt into the bucket.
John sneezed; he had tried to stop it but couldn’t help the tickling
in his nose to develop into a mighty spray.
“Who’s there?” The old man pushing on his hands to get up on his
feet. “Who’s there?” he repeated with added zeal. Peter and John
unable to talk, let alone move. Expecting to die on the spot when
instead the old man went forward only to offer shake their hand.
“What are you two doing down here?”
“We like to explore, Sir… and…” John had summoned enough courage
to speak. Peter nodding by his side.
“Oh, I see. And of course it’s understandable, for boys will always
be boys and trouble follows. Ha-ha! Ha-ha-ha!” His laughter echoing
around the cave. Peter and John nally reassured no harm would
come to them.
Kids Story: 10++
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Kids Story: 10++
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He was a tall person, his complexion light for lack of sunshine, and
since he only wore pants to the waist, the upper skin of his torso was
as red as lightly cooked meat. Then since the feeble lighting tended
to distort his features, the thick neck carrying the corrugation which
made it resemble to the frills of a lizard, even suggesting that when
angry it will form a wheel like a peacock and lash out with the tongue.
Peter and John waited, their concern only to get out of there, a
quick glimpse to satisfy their curiosity and then run to tell the world
of this unexpected episode. Of the confrontation with a person they
least expected to nd and so frighting to be lucky to be still alive.
“What are your names, boys?” he taking two paces to arrive close
to where they stood. The boys expecting ropes, to be captured and
knives, to then be carved. But no! Nothing like it, he merely said,
“My name is Red, also known around the traps as the red dragon of
Ballarat… I’m pleased to meet you.”
“Can we go now?” John was on the verge of wetting his pants, Peter
likewise, with the added urge to let go of the weight he felt inside
the stomach. And so they ran toward the incline Red was pointing at,
never to tell anybody of this escape for fear of retribution.
Kids Story: 10++
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