My Achievements and Difficulties during the academic Year

Participants :8th graders

Process:students write essays or make videos where they speak about their achievements,difficulties during the academic year.

The aim of the project is to enlarge students’ knowledge,help them speak in English without being afraid of making mistakes

As a result we’ll have a presentation in which we can see how to improve educational process or just to find out our students’ problems , achievements.

All the results will be posted on students’ blogs

Essay

In the course of this school year, we managed to be more warm and close to our English teacher. Apart from that, during this school year, we managed to write different types of projects and celebrated the holiday of books together. I hope this year will not end and we will try to work more on our English language in these last months.

He has been cooking all morning

i was not feelin well

you arn nothing pratice enough

they are playin footbal

we are watcing too much tv

English Homework

I rang your place four times this morning,but none of them answerd.

Use your memory by Tony Buzan is a briliant book , i think everyone sholud read it.

It was a hard question ,she asked all her friends, but all of them knew answer .

I can rember no one our techer said in todays lesson,but i cant rember what the homework is:

jims lost his watch hes loked for it, everywhere but he can’t find it:

My dad doesn’t see his friends from London very often , thats why he was very happy that everyone came to his party:

Until Death does us Apart

When I got home that night as my wife served dinner, I held her hand and said, I’ve got something to tell you. She sat down and ate quietly. Again I observed the hurt in her eyes.  Suddenly I didn’t know how to open my mouth. But I had to let her know what I was thinking. I want a divorce. I raised the topic calmly.

She didn’t seem to be annoyed by my words, instead, she asked me softly, why?  I avoided her question. This made her angry. She threw away the chopsticks and shouted at me, you are not a man! That night, we didn’t talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew she wanted to find out what had happened to our marriage. But I could hardly give her a satisfactory answer; she had lost my heart to Jane. I didn’t love her anymore. I just pitied her!

With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce agreement which stated that she could own our house, our car, and 30% stake in my company.  She glanced at it and then tore it into pieces. The woman who had spent ten years of her life with me had become a stranger. I felt sorry for her wasted time, resources and energy but I could not take back what I had said for I loved Jane so dearly. Finally, she cried loudly in front of me, which was what I had expected to see. To me, her cry was actually a kind of release. The idea of divorce which had obsessed me for several weeks seemed to be firmer and clearer now.

The next day, I came back home very late and found her writing something at the table. I didn’t have supper but went straight to sleep and fell asleep very fast because I was tired after an eventful day with Jane.  When I woke up, she was still there at the table writing. I just did not care so I turned over and was asleep again.

In the morning she presented her divorce conditions.  She didn’t want anything from me but needed a month’s notice before the divorce. She requested that in that one month, we both try to live as normal a life as possible. Her reason for this conditions was simple.  Our son had his exams in a month’s time and she didn’t want to disrupt him with our broken marriage.

This was agreeable to me. But she had something more, she asked me to recall how I had carried her into out bridal room on our wedding day.  She requested that everyday for the month’s duration I carry her out of our bedroom to the front door ever morning. I thought she was going crazy. Just to make our last days together bearable I accepted her odd request.

I told Jane about my wife’s divorce conditions. She laughed loudly and thought it was absurd. No matter what tricks she applies, she has to face the divorce, she said scornfully.

My wife and I hadn’t had any body contact since my divorce intention was explicitly expressed. So when I carried her out on the first day, we both appeared clumsy. Our son clapped behind us, daddy is holding mommy in his arms. His words brought me a sense of pain. From the bedroom to the sitting room, then to the door, I walked over ten meters with her in my arms. She closed her eyes and said softly; don’t tell our son about the divorce. I nodded, feeling somewhat upset. I put her down outside the door. She went to wait for the bus to work. I drove alone to the office.

On the second day, both of us acted much more easily. She leaned on my chest. I could smell the fragrance of her blouse. I realized that I hadn’t looked at this woman carefully for a long time. I realized she was not young anymore. There were fine wrinkles on her face, her hair was graying! Our marriage had taken its toll on her. For a minute I wondered what I had done to her.

On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I felt a sense of intimacy returning. This was the woman who had given ten years of her life to me.  On the fifth and sixth day, I realized that our sense of intimacy was growing again. I didn’t tell Jane about this. It became easier to carry her as the month slipped by. Perhaps the everyday workout made me stronger.

She was choosing what to wear one morning. She tried on quite a few dresses but could not find a suitable one. Then she sighed, all my dresses have grown bigger. I suddenly realized that she had grown so thin, that was the reason why I could carry her more easily.  Suddenly it hit me. She had buried so much pain and bitterness in her heart. Subconsciously I reached out and touched her head.

Our son came in at the moment and said, Dad, it’s time to carry mom out. To him, seeing his father carrying his mother out had become an essential part of his life. My wife gestured to our son to come closer and hugged him tightly. I turned my face away because I was afraid I might change my mind at this last-minute. I then held her in my arms, walking from the bedroom, through the sitting room, to the hallway. Her hand surrounded my neck softly and naturally. I held her body tightly, it was just like our wedding day.

But her much lighter weight made me sad. On the last day, when I held her in my arms I could hardly move a step. Our son had gone to school. I held her tightly and said, I hadn’t noticed that our life lacked intimacy.  I drove to the office and jumped out of the car swiftly without locking the door. I was afraid any delay would make me change my mind.  I walked upstairs. Jane opened the door and I said to her, Sorry, Jane, I do not want the divorce anymore.

She looked at me, astonished, and then touched my forehead. Do you have a fever? She said. I moved her hand off my head. Sorry, Jane, I said, I won’t divorce. My marriage life was boring probably because she and I didn’t value the details of our lives, not because we didn’t love each other anymore. Now I realize that since I carried her into my home on our wedding day I am supposed to hold her until death does us apart.

Jane seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud slap and then slammed the door and burst into tears. I walked downstairs and drove away.  At the floral shop on the way, I ordered a bouquet of flowers for my wife. The salesgirl asked me what to write on the card. I smiled and wrote, “I’ll carry you out every morning until death does us apart”.

That evening I arrived home, flowers in my hands, a smile on my face, I run upstairs, only to find my wife in the bed – dead.

My wife had been fighting cancer for months and I was so busy with Jane to even notice. She knew that she would die soon and she wanted to save me from the whatever negative reaction from our son, in case we push through with the divorce. At least, in the eyes of our son— I’m a loving husband.

Moral: The small details of your lives are what really matter in a relationship. It is not the mansion, the car, property, the money in the bank. These create an environment conducive for happiness but cannot give happiness in themselves. So find time to be your spouse’s friend and do those little things for each other that build intimacy. And have a real happy marriage.

English homework

Check your progress

How many emails are writen every day.

Chcolate are selling in almost every country in the world.

Rice dosent grow in England,but it grow up in Spain.

Ferari cars maked in Italy .

Are most emails sending from home computers ? .

The Weight of Soil

There was a very clever and cunning landlord who owned lots of land in a whole village. He cunningly loaned small amount of money when needy came to him for a help. Taking a benefit of those who were not well-educated, he kept adding on interest to the principal amount. The amount for repayment of the loan would raise up so much that people couldn’t pay back and end up surrendering their land to the landlord.

Now, his eyes were on a land owned by an old lady near his house. She was all alone, no other family. She would plant her own crop and fulfill her needs. The landlord was not able to figure out how to lure her into giving up her land to him. He then bribed a government official in village and forged papers of ownership on his name. He along with a government official visited old lady and served her a notice to hand over the land to him.

Old lady was shocked to know this and pleaded that she has been living here her whole life and this land has been owned by her ancestors, her loved ones are berried here and she inherited it, how can someone claim this now? She approached local court, but the landlord had bribed everyone and had presented forged ownership papers. Thus, the court delivered the judgment in the landlord’s favor.

Dejected old lady then prepared to vacant the land while the landlord and his associates stood there waiting for her to leave. While leaving, filled with tears old lady approached the landlord and said, “Sir, you have taken everything from me today, my entire life was spent here, but now I am leaving. The land here is where I played, grew up with my family and this soil is very dear to me.” She added further, “we all are made of soil, and so anyone can have an affection towards it. Allow me to carry a basked filled with this soil to keep with me, with that by my side I will always have an aroma of this place till I die peacefully.”

The landlord smirked thinking since he had gained ownership of her entire land without paying her, might as well let her have it a basked of soil, so she can leave quietly. He said, “fine. You can fill up your basked.”

Old lady started filling up her basked with soil. She overfilled it and was struggling to lift the basket to carry over her head. She then told the landlord, “Sir, will you please lend a hand to put the basked over my head?” The landlord came forward to help and said, “Oh you poor old lady, didn’t you think before you overfilled this basket? You are struggling to lift this basked filled with soil then how can you carry this with you?”

With tears in her eyes, old lady said, “oh sir, this entire land was my own, spent my whole life here, yet I am struggling to carry a single basket of soil from here while I am still breathing. I won’t be able to carry it with me even when I die. You sir, have so much of other’s land. How will you carry it all with you?”

The landlord stood stunned hearing this. He realized his mistake and fell on the old lady’s feet asking for forgiveness. He requested her to live here happily and returned her land.

Moral: Do not cheat, don’t be greedy. Do not take more than you need. Be content with what you have, sometimes it’s sufficient for a happy life.

THE LITTLE MATCH GIRL

It was so terribly cold. Snow was falling, and it was almost dark. Evening came on, the last evening of the year. In the cold and gloom a poor little girl, bareheaded and barefoot, was walking through the streets. Of course when she had left her house she’d had slippers on, but what good had they been? They were very big slippers, way too big for her, for they belonged to her mother. The little girl had lost them running across the road, where two carriages had rattled by terribly fast. One slipper she’d not been able to find again, and a boy had run off with the other, saying he could use it very well as a cradle some day when he had children of his own. And so the little girl walked on her naked feet, which were quite red and blue with the cold. In an old apron she carried several packages of matches, and she held a box of them in her hand. No one had bought any from her all day long, and no one had given her a cent.

Shivering with cold and hunger, she crept along, a picture of misery, poor little girl! The snowflakes fell on her long fair hair, which hung in pretty curls over her neck. In all the windows lights were shining, and there was a wonderful smell of roast goose, for it was New Year’s eve. Yes, she thought of that!

In a corner formed by two houses, one of which projected farther out into the street than the other, she sat down and drew up her little feet under her. She was getting colder and colder, but did not dare to go home, for she had sold no matches, nor earned a single cent, and her father would surely beat her. Besides, it was cold at home, for they had nothing over them but a roof through which the wind whistled even though the biggest cracks had been stuffed with straw and rags.

Her hands were almost dead with cold. Oh, how much one little match might warm her! If she could only take one from the box and rub it against the wall and warm her hands. She drew one out. R-r-ratch! How it sputtered and burned! It made a warm, bright flame, like a little candle, as she held her hands over it; but it gave a strange light! It really seemed to the little girl as if she were sitting before a great iron stove with shining brass knobs and a brass cover. How wonderfully the fire burned! How comfortable it was! The youngster stretched out her feet to warm them too; then the little flame went out, the stove vanished, and she had only the remains of the burnt match in her hand.

She struck another match against the wall. It burned brightly, and when the light fell upon the wall it became transparent like a thin veil, and she could see through it into a room. On the table a snow-white cloth was spread, and on it stood a shining dinner service. The roast goose steamed gloriously, stuffed with apples and prunes. And what was still better, the goose jumped down from the dish and waddled along the floor with a knife and fork in its breast, right over to the little girl. Then the match went out, and she could see only the thick, cold wall. She lighted another match. Then she was sitting under the most beautiful Christmas tree. It was much larger and much more beautiful than the one she had seen last Christmas through the glass door at the rich merchant’s home. Thousands of candles burned on the green branches, and colored pictures like those in the printshops looked down at her. The little girl reached both her hands toward them. Then the match went out. But the Christmas lights mounted higher. She saw them now as bright stars in the sky. One of them fell down, forming a long line of fire.

«Now someone is dying,» thought the little girl, for her old grandmother, the only person who had loved her, and who was now dead, had told her that when a star fell down a soul went up to God.

She rubbed another match against the wall. It became bright again, and in the glow the old grandmother stood clear and shining, kind and lovely.

«Grandmother!» cried the child. «Oh, take me with you! I know you will disappear when the match is burned out. You will vanish like the warm stove, the wonderful roast goose and the beautiful big Christmas tree!»

And she quickly struck the whole bundle of matches, for she wished to keep her grandmother with her. And the matches burned with such a glow that it became brighter than daylight. Grandmother had never been so grand and beautiful. She took the little girl in her arms, and both of them flew in brightness and joy above the earth, very, very high, and up there was neither cold, nor hunger, nor fear-they were with God.

But in the corner, leaning against the wall, sat the little girl with red cheeks and smiling mouth, frozen to death on the last evening of the old year. The New Year’s sun rose upon a little pathetic figure. The child sat there, stiff and cold, holding the matches, of which one bundle was almost burned.

«She wanted to warm herself,» the people said. No one imagined what beautiful things she had seen, and how happily she had gone with her old grandmother into the bright New Year.