Original Paragraph:
Do not let the cat go near the bird; she will tear him with her claws and eat him up. The cat may go and catch the mice because they do us no harm and eat our food, but she must not get our poor bird because the bird sings to us and lets us know when it is time to rise.
Now I am going to re-do this story with better detail:
Do not let the ignoble cat go near the regent bird; she will tear him with her claws and chow him down. The cat may go and catch the filthy mice because they do us no harm and eat our food, but she must not get our poor golden bird because the bird sings to us and lets us know when it is time to rise.
(the words in red are my vocabulary words for this week.)
Friday, October 24, 2008
Thursday, October 16, 2008
The Quest of the Four Leaved Clover
Original Paragraph:
Omar returned to Jedda with death in his heart. In vain his slaves tried to muse him; in vain business and wealth came to him from all quarters. For days together he shut himself up in his chamber, sitting cross-legged on a rug and revolving in his head impracticable schemes of vengeance.
Now I am going to do an evaluation of this paragraph:
Omar sounds very mad and alone. It sounds as though he is thinking of plans to get back at someone for doing something wrong to him. I would not want to be in his way.
Omar returned to Jedda with death in his heart. In vain his slaves tried to muse him; in vain business and wealth came to him from all quarters. For days together he shut himself up in his chamber, sitting cross-legged on a rug and revolving in his head impracticable schemes of vengeance.
Now I am going to do an evaluation of this paragraph:
Omar sounds very mad and alone. It sounds as though he is thinking of plans to get back at someone for doing something wrong to him. I would not want to be in his way.
Descriptive Rooms/Basketball
Original Paragraph:
Room Descriptions
As I walked into the room, the warmth radiated from all four walls, entrapping me in a web of love. The huge bed that had been freshly made still felt warm from the person who had slept there. The pillows stitched "Home Sweet Home" laid just off center at the foot of the bed. The light streaming through the window seemed to reach out and touch the bare spot in the carpet. As I walked further, I saw the bookshelves lining the left wall, stacked with old favorites that brought so much joy. On the other wall, the memories were painted in the pictures that covered the old cracked wall. When I left the room, it was as if I had tasted a piece of heaven. - Danielle Hefner
Now I am going to write my own descriptive paragraph:
All I can hear is the rattle of my own breath. All I can feel is this intense heat raging through my body. All I can smell is the buckets of sweat pouring off my face. I am true. I am fearless. I can make this shot. I am the most valuable player. It all comes down to these last few seconds of the game. All I can see are the heat waves rising off the asphalt. I dodge heaving body after heaving body. All the while still hearing the ball bounce to the sound of my heartbeat. It is a rhythm, it is an addiction, it is street basketball. I throw all of my exhausted body's last strength into a four foot jump. I am off the ground. I am flying. Three inches from the basket. Two...one....VICTORY! I become deaf with the sound of cheering and shouts. I still hang on to the slippery rim, not wanting to let go of this amazing sensation. I finally let go and fall into the welcoming arms of my team. I won. We won.
Room Descriptions
As I walked into the room, the warmth radiated from all four walls, entrapping me in a web of love. The huge bed that had been freshly made still felt warm from the person who had slept there. The pillows stitched "Home Sweet Home" laid just off center at the foot of the bed. The light streaming through the window seemed to reach out and touch the bare spot in the carpet. As I walked further, I saw the bookshelves lining the left wall, stacked with old favorites that brought so much joy. On the other wall, the memories were painted in the pictures that covered the old cracked wall. When I left the room, it was as if I had tasted a piece of heaven. - Danielle Hefner
Now I am going to write my own descriptive paragraph:
All I can hear is the rattle of my own breath. All I can feel is this intense heat raging through my body. All I can smell is the buckets of sweat pouring off my face. I am true. I am fearless. I can make this shot. I am the most valuable player. It all comes down to these last few seconds of the game. All I can see are the heat waves rising off the asphalt. I dodge heaving body after heaving body. All the while still hearing the ball bounce to the sound of my heartbeat. It is a rhythm, it is an addiction, it is street basketball. I throw all of my exhausted body's last strength into a four foot jump. I am off the ground. I am flying. Three inches from the basket. Two...one....VICTORY! I become deaf with the sound of cheering and shouts. I still hang on to the slippery rim, not wanting to let go of this amazing sensation. I finally let go and fall into the welcoming arms of my team. I won. We won.
Monday, October 13, 2008
The School Girl
Original Paragraph:
Jane Rice is a good girl. She goes to school everyday, and she can read quite well. She does what she is told, and is kind to all. One day, as she went to school, she saw a poor bee in the water, on the road. She took a leaf, for fear the bee would sting her, and held it to the bee. The bee took hold of it, with its feet. Jane took it out, and put it where the sun would shine on it. The bee soon got warm and flew away. Jane was glad that she had saved its life.
Now I am going to do a imitation/contrast of this paragraph:
Jimmy Jones is a bad boy. He skips 90% of school days, and he can't do math. He nevers listens to his mother, and is a brat to all. One day, as he was sleeping peacefully in the barn, when he should have been in school, a bee woke him up by stinging him. He awoke with a start and yelled at the bee. Jimmy ran out of the barn to get the stinger out. He was very mad that he got stung. But, so happens, it was the same bee that Jane had saved a couple days ago.
Jane Rice is a good girl. She goes to school everyday, and she can read quite well. She does what she is told, and is kind to all. One day, as she went to school, she saw a poor bee in the water, on the road. She took a leaf, for fear the bee would sting her, and held it to the bee. The bee took hold of it, with its feet. Jane took it out, and put it where the sun would shine on it. The bee soon got warm and flew away. Jane was glad that she had saved its life.
Now I am going to do a imitation/contrast of this paragraph:
Jimmy Jones is a bad boy. He skips 90% of school days, and he can't do math. He nevers listens to his mother, and is a brat to all. One day, as he was sleeping peacefully in the barn, when he should have been in school, a bee woke him up by stinging him. He awoke with a start and yelled at the bee. Jimmy ran out of the barn to get the stinger out. He was very mad that he got stung. But, so happens, it was the same bee that Jane had saved a couple days ago.
Musical Mice
Original Paragraph:
On a rainy evening, as I was alone in my room, I took up my flute and began playing a tune. In a few minutes my attention was directed to a mouse that I saw creeping from its hole and advancing to the chair in which I was sitting.
Now I am going to do a continuation of this story:
It ran up the leg of my chair and and asked if he could play my flute. It was very odd at first to hear a mouse talk, but I got used to it. I let him play my flute and he was very good, surprisingly. I insisted that he play professionally, but he just said that he was a very private mouse and scurried back to his hole.
On a rainy evening, as I was alone in my room, I took up my flute and began playing a tune. In a few minutes my attention was directed to a mouse that I saw creeping from its hole and advancing to the chair in which I was sitting.
Now I am going to do a continuation of this story:
It ran up the leg of my chair and and asked if he could play my flute. It was very odd at first to hear a mouse talk, but I got used to it. I let him play my flute and he was very good, surprisingly. I insisted that he play professionally, but he just said that he was a very private mouse and scurried back to his hole.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Ghost in the Barn
Original Paragraph:
A boy went out to the barn one night to find the horses. He entered at the great door, and as he was going across the floor, something soft and white seemed to meet him. It drew back and came toward him again. He was alarmed and ran toward the door. He looked again and saw the white object moving to and fro.
Now I am going to re-write this with richer detail:
Shane went out to the red barn one cold night to find the pinto horses. He entered at the great door, and as he was plodding across the hay-covered concrete floor, something soft and opaque seemed to meet him. It drew back and came toward him again. Shane was alarmed and sped toward the door. He looked again and saw the white object floating to and fro.
A boy went out to the barn one night to find the horses. He entered at the great door, and as he was going across the floor, something soft and white seemed to meet him. It drew back and came toward him again. He was alarmed and ran toward the door. He looked again and saw the white object moving to and fro.
Now I am going to re-write this with richer detail:
Shane went out to the red barn one cold night to find the pinto horses. He entered at the great door, and as he was plodding across the hay-covered concrete floor, something soft and opaque seemed to meet him. It drew back and came toward him again. Shane was alarmed and sped toward the door. He looked again and saw the white object floating to and fro.
Joan of Arc
Original Paragraph:
There is no record of what Joan of Arc looked like. The colour of her eyes, the colour of her hair, her height, her weight, her smile, none of it is described until later. The face of the heroine is blank; her physical presence is unknown. From the days when she was alive, all we know of her body is that she was about nineteen in 1431, as she told her examiners at the trial; that she had a light, feminine voice; and that on the day of her death at Rouen, she was shown to the crowd to be a woman.
Now I am going to tell in my own words what I think Joan of Arc looked like:
I think when she was about nineteen she had dark red hair, green eyes, and alot of freckles. She weighed about 130 pounds and was about 5'4". She had very fair skin, almost white. This is how I imagine Joan of Arc.
There is no record of what Joan of Arc looked like. The colour of her eyes, the colour of her hair, her height, her weight, her smile, none of it is described until later. The face of the heroine is blank; her physical presence is unknown. From the days when she was alive, all we know of her body is that she was about nineteen in 1431, as she told her examiners at the trial; that she had a light, feminine voice; and that on the day of her death at Rouen, she was shown to the crowd to be a woman.
Now I am going to tell in my own words what I think Joan of Arc looked like:
I think when she was about nineteen she had dark red hair, green eyes, and alot of freckles. She weighed about 130 pounds and was about 5'4". She had very fair skin, almost white. This is how I imagine Joan of Arc.
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