Turtle Wexler.

What are you looking at?

About Me and my Family.

My real name is Tabitha Ruth Wexler. Shh! Don't tell anyone! My nick-name is Turtle .Anyway, I live in a closet, which my mom calls a bedroom! It is so unfair! Grace, my mom, is always scolding me for something. Mom is so nice to my sister Angela though! Mom is constantly comparing her to me! Mom even called me ugly! That is why I prefer to hang out with my dad Jake because he does not favor me or Angela. Oh! Don't even get me started on Angela! She stole my obituary from my desk drawer without asking. I am still mad at her. I can't wait until Angela marries that stuck-up-know-it-all-marshmallow-faced Denton Deere. Then Angela moves away and all is right in the world.
Big image

My family

The picture above shows my family, and Angels husband-to-be Denton Deere. I am sitting on the chair, with my lovely braid. My father, Jake Wexler, stands in his hospital scrubs, even though he is a podiatrist, he stands with his hand on my shoulder. There is something you should know about Jake, I'm not sure of I should tell you though. Well, I guess you already know my real name so I'll tell you: Jake is a bookie. Sh!!!

My mom, Grace Wexler, stands next to my father, with her hand on Angela. Mommy does not think I am pretty, much less a good daughter. Then, my angel sister Angela. Next to her is her fiance, Denton Deere

Some passages about me.

“There, that braid should hold for the rest of the day. By the way, you’ve never told me your real name.” “Alice,” Turtle replied, swinging her head before the mirror. Not one single hair escaped its tight bind. Mrs. Baumbach would make a good braider if only she’d stop yakking about her exceptional child. Rosalie, what a dumb name. “You’d better get to the meeting now. Remember, don’t say a word to anyone about anything. Just listen.” “All right, Alice. I promise.” ( pg 64)

This passage shows that Turtle is not as closed up as I seem to be. Plus, I kind of like that elderly dressmaker.

“What is Turtle’s real name?” Doug Hoo was planning another nasty sign. “Tabitha-Ruth,” replied Mrs. Wexler with a bewildered look at Flora Baumbach, who said “Alice.” “Well, which is it?” “Tabitha-Ruth Wexler. I should know, I’m her mother.” Doug changed his mind about the sign. He couldn’t spell Tabitha-Ruth. ( page 67)

This blurb shows that I was lying to Flora, which means I don't trust her. I don't even trust her enough to tell her my real name! Or is Alice my real name? I am certainly not ready to tell anyone my real name, but they know it now. Well, they still have to call me Turtle.

I Only let a few people touch my braid... I only change that rule for some people

It was Flora Baumbach who braided Turtle’s hair now, sometimes in three strands, sometimes four, sometimes twined with ribbons, while Turtle read The Wall Street Journal. “Listen to this: ‘The newly elected chairman of the board of Westing Paper Products Corporation, Julian R. Eastman, announced from London where he is conferring with European management that earnings from all divisions are expected to double in the next quarter.’” “That’s nice,” Flora Baumbach said, not understanding a word of it. Turtle gave the order for the day. “Listen carefully. As soon as you get to the broker’s office I want you to sell AMO, sell SEA, sell MT, and put all the money into WPP. Okay?” Oh, my! That meant selling every stock mentioned in their clues and buying more shares of Westing Paper Products—at a loss of some thousands of dollars. “Whatever you say, Alice, you’re the smart one.” Flora Baumbach’s hands were gentle, they never hurried or pulled a stray hair. Flora Baumbach loved her, she could tell. “I like when you call me Alice,” Turtle said, “but I better not call you Mrs. Baumbach anymore, because of the bomb scare, you know.” Calling her Flora would spoil everything. “Maybe I could call you Mrs. Baba?” “Why not just Baba?” That’s exactly what Turtle (Alice) wanted to hear. “Was your daughter, Rosalie, very smart, Baba?” “My, no. You’re the smartest child I ever met, a real businesswoman.” Turtle glowed behind The Wall Street Journal. “I bet Rosalie baked bread and patched quilts and dumb stuff like that.” The dressmaker’s sure fingers fumbled over the red ribbons she was weaving into a four-strand braid. “Rosalie was an exceptional child. The friendliest, lovingest…” Turtle crumpled the newspaper. “Let’s go. I’m late for school and you’ve got that big trade to make.” “But I haven’t finished tying the ribbons.” “Never mind, I like them hanging.” Turtle felt like kicking somebody, anybody, good and hard. ( Page 126)

I love it when Baba calls me Alice. It makes me feel like Baba is my mom, the loving, caring mom I never had. I get kind of jittery when she talks about Rosalie because I don't know what do to. I do not know whether to comfort her or to insist that she has me now. I want to kick someone good and hard. That's the only way I can get out my anger. I can't cope with this, it makes me feel uncomfortable

About the book.

The Westing Game is written by Ellen Raskin and was published in 2004, although it was originally published in the 1980's. What I love most about this book is that Ellen really can bring the characters to life, and this book is a joy to read. I can't wait for the sequel if there is going to be one.

My Inside conflict..

I have a couple of conflicts, but since you already know so much about me and family, why don't I just tell you everything! Ok so, as I mentioned earlier, you know that my mom doesn't love ma as much as she loves Angela. That means that sometimes she abandons me. The fact that I don't have a loving, caring mother makes me sad. Luckily, I was paired up with Baba, who acts like my mom. She calls me Alice, and I like that. I have another one, too. When one of the bombs went off, my braid was badly signed and got cut off. That was kind of what I could hide behind, but now it is gone. I guess I'll have to start opening up to people.
MC Hammer - U Can't Touch This (Lyrics) Not Muted!

This is my jam!

M.C Hammer's "U can't touch this" is my song! I totally get what he means. I mean, I feel the same way about my braid. You can't touch this braid. Or at least that how it used to be. when one of the bombs went off, it signed my braid and it had to get cut off. I miss that braid a lot. Want the lyrics? Look below for them


Three symbol pictures:

Google images.

I can't find the exact link but I'll tell you what I looked up.

Bruise: "Bruise on leg little"

Braid: " Blonde Simple Braid."

Shin: " Shins"

U can't touch this:


Picture of Wexler Family~

Found on the flint Hill website on humaties Page