CROSS COUNTRY

In only 5 weeks we will have the Upper Clutha Cross Country at the camp grounds. Every morning we will be training so we need to wear good running shoes and we will be running 1.5km every day. We need to bring a note if we are unable to run.

The Old Fort

The old torn cargo net is fun to climb on and the metal bars hold it steady in the ground with the chipped paint that needs a new coat!
The wooden rafters, covered in bird poo and names, hold the corrugated iron roof, with no gutter, up.
The red slide is skid marked from all the shoes and boots that have skidded down the curvy red slide.
The rainbow tires are piled up on each other, entering the 2nd floor of the wooden fort.
The slippery, sliver fire mans pole has skid marks also, but these marks are from peoples hands.

By Oban Hansen

The old rope net waiting for the bell to ring.
The wooden plank’s rusty sound makes me want to block my ears, but I’ll fall.
The yellow sun colored slide takes the joy out of the playground.
Wind blowing the yellow painted playground.

By Lily Roberts

Old Magazines??

Have you any old magazines to donate?
We would love them!

Show Art

We have been making Show Art and we made self portrait collages. First we printed out a Picture of our self then we stuck it face up on a piece of paper and sketched it out on the window.

Then we ripped colours out of magazines and stuck them on to the parts of our head and t shirt with PVA glue.

After we had done that we got to choose a colour out of pink, purple or yellow and same as our face and t shirt. We stuck them on as the background.

After we had let the glue dry we ether found mouth eyes and ears or cut them out from our photo or in a magazine and stuck them on to complete our portrait.

Check out our art at the A and P show on Saturday.

By Hamish

Sailing at Camp

“Where is the wind coming from” I say to my self in frustration, pulling back I duck my head and slide to the other side. A sudden gush of wind blows in to my sail and pushes my hair “Pull the sail” shouts a voice over the wind. Reaching back with my free hand, the water bails in as I cut through the waves at great speed, passing bashful and dopey for the third time I smile look over to mum as she passes me .Turning around at the boy the wind suddenly drops and I’m left floating there a massive wave rooks me back and fords. “Can you tow me?“I shout back at them throwing over my rope I see Hamish and Jesse are all ready hooked up.

By Breagha