A 15-year-old boy has discovered a Mayan city without leaving Canada. This surprising find involves star maps, satellites and hidden cities!
5 writing retreats around the world to drool over. From Segullah staffer Linda: “I can personally endorse the Anam Cara Writers and Artists Retreat in Ireland. Life changing!”
Congratulations to the 20 longlisted finalists of the 2016 Mormon Lit Blitz! Stay tuned for the top 12 entries to be released in the next few days!
$50,000 high school art on Antiques Roadshow has since been revalued to $3000-$5000, but it’s a great story nonetheless.
Three brain abnormalities have been identified in Chronic Fatigue Syndrome patients, which will aid in research, diagnosis, and hopefully eventual treatment.
Three siblings have all served in the same Taiwan mission. “We calculated the odds of all three of them going to Taiwan Taichung and all three serving in the same city,” said Greg Anderson, [their Dad] “And it is pretty much about zero percent until you factor in Heavenly Father, and then it becomes 100 percent.”
Septillion – could I have that in a sentence? If you’re a fan of spelling bees, you may like the drafting of stories from the example sentences given during the competitions.
How many witches to a coven? This … incantation? Cackle? Spell? of dancing witches is a crooked nosed delight!
A 7-year-old’s note to excuse themselves from school was accepted, resulting in lots more paperwork.
Eleven + 1 = how many podcasts so far by Mormon Missionary Stories, sharing tales and experiences of past and present missionaries from all over the world.
First Draft Poetry this week is by Teresa, who notes “This one isn’t 100% Treasures-inspired. It’s more a bridge from “where I am” to where the Treasures took me (and where I’d like to go — and be).”
“Agenda” by Teresa TL Bruce
I watched a woman come to tears
(when I was near my own).
She readied for a looming move
from what had been her home.
Too much to do, too soon to start,
too short the time till then
She had to sort her stuff herself
despite offers by friends.
I fingered lines along a globe
and folds on spread-out maps.
With tired soul my daydreams turned—
my wakeful planning lapsed.
From tree house cabins on mountaintop
near flying lava fish,
I watched stick figures parade past
a desert’s Grecian dish.
Goliath galumphed with outstretched hands
(each clasping Mayan stars)
while ’neath his feet
Lilliputia fled from stepped-on, hidden cars.
“Retreat!” the general’s trump-pen cried
in words outlined by ink,
and word-drawn figures pooled as one
into an island’s drink.
I tried to heed the siren call
to soak my mind with theirs—
but chains restrained and bars held back.
Ash seared where I sought air.
I gasped. Awoke. Wiped cheek and eye.
Inhaled the tasks nearby.
Returned to what was needful
(with unseen, wistful eye).