<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454027240472093875</id><updated>2011-04-21T19:27:50.660-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Katherine 8th Grade Blog</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14906495355066975490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>28</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454027240472093875.post-3289554242439780591</id><published>2009-06-02T13:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T14:34:50.524-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Journal #9 in the perspective of Heck Tate</title><content type='html'>&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CGUSTAV%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0in; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:8.5in 11.0in; 	margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; 	mso-header-margin:.5in; 	mso-footer-margin:.5in; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0in; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;"&gt;It was October, and nearing the end of my work day. I was looking forward to going home so I could have a nice warm meal and relax. Instead of going home though, I received a call from a very frantic Atticus Finch. He told me that someone had been after his kids and that the older one Jem was hurt. As he explained about it in my mind I had a pretty good&lt;b style=""&gt; assessment&lt;/b&gt; on the things that I would have to handle when I got to their house. I would imagine that people were still very mad about the case, but to hurt the mans children was preposterous. He asked me to go to the site were the kids were attacked and see if the man was still there. I ran out to where he described to find a little girl dress as well as Bob Ewell&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;on the ground with a kitchen knife in his ribs. I was shocked and almost screamed, but as a good sheriff, I picked up the dress, put it in my car and went to the Finches house. When I got there I saw the doctor obviously taking care of Jem and I stepped into the house, feeling a little bit uncomfortable. I walked into Jems room, not worried about the &lt;b style=""&gt;inconveniences &lt;/b&gt;that had been caused. I wanted to tell Atticus what the current situation was, but I stood in the doorway until he knew that I was in his house. As I was waiting I saw a man in the corner of Jems room, and assumed that it was just a person from the outer part of town. Atticus noticed me and urged me to come into the room, which I did. While I was coming to the Finches house, I though about what I would say to the family and who I would say it to, but I &lt;b style=""&gt;consented &lt;/b&gt;to say what happened when I investigated to the whole family. I told mainly Atticus what had happened and he looked at me with a stunned face. After a few minutes I wanted to know what really happened so I asked Scout to tell me what had occurred. She said that Bob Ewell had tried to hurt her, but she was saved by a man she thought was Atticus. When I asked who had saved her she pointed to the man in the corner and said to him to tell me his name. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;As she asked him, I noticed that she was staring at him, and after a while of shock she simply said “ Hey Boo”. I was shocked about what had just happened, and in my mind I was trying to process it. Boo Radley had really saved her. I thought that he was though of allegedly by all the town folk. I had believed that he was a lunatic, but standing before me, I understood that he was just misjudged, and &lt;b style=""&gt;persecuted&lt;/b&gt; by what people thought of him. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5454027240472093875-3289554242439780591?l=katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3289554242439780591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5454027240472093875&amp;postID=3289554242439780591' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/3289554242439780591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/3289554242439780591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/2009/06/journal-9-in-perspective-of-heck-tate.html' title='Journal #9 in the perspective of Heck Tate'/><author><name>kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14906495355066975490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454027240472093875.post-7125454011359862631</id><published>2009-05-27T17:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T13:27:15.639-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Journal #7 in the perspective of Calpurnia</title><content type='html'>I looked around for what seemed to be hours for Scout, Jem and Dill. I asked around the neighborhood to see where they were. Since most everyone was downtown watching the court case there were not many people I could talk to. After a while I decided to take action and just go downtown to inform Mr. Atticus that his kids were missing from the house and the neighborhood. The walk was quiet and almost no one was around. As I reached the courthouse, I began to hear people talking I opened the door and walked to were the judge was. I was a little worried that he would get mad at me for intruding what was happening but he allowed me to speak to Atticus after I explained that what I had to say had nothing to do with the court case. I told Atticus that the kids were missing and I was worried about them, Suddenly Mr. Underwood exclaimed that the kids were sitting on the balcony with the colored folk and they had been there. Atticus called them down and instructed me to take them home for supper, but they could come back to see what happened. I knew that Atticus only told them this because they begged and they had already seen most of the case.&lt;br /&gt;I was very mad at Scout and Jem as well as Dill. We walked home to an &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;inevitable&lt;/span&gt; encounter Aunt Alexandria who said a few nasty words and then walked away. I told her were the kids had been and she nearly fainted. During supper, I was quiet and instructed Dill to inform his Aunt that he was safe because she had been very worried. I believe that the kids got a sense of &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;apprehension&lt;/span&gt; from the way that I was acting towards them. I muttered under my breath that I was ashamed of them. After supper, they went back to the court, leaving me waiting to see what the verdict was. A while later, Atticus as well as the kids came back with sad expressions on their face. I took it that as a bad sign, and proceeded to walk to my house because it was past 11.&lt;br /&gt;The next morning I found a large array of food sitting on the back steps. I understood that it is from black people from around the town, expressing their gratitude to what Atticus did to defend Tom Robinson. When I told Mr. Atticus this he started to tear up, and said something along the lines that they should have kept the food themselves. I saw that in his face there was some  understanding  of why people gave him and his family food.  It was a little &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;obscure&lt;/span&gt; that they would send food during our depression, because I knew that they needed it. Most of the black folks in Maycomb could not afford to be giving away food and it was &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;improbable&lt;/span&gt; that they would do it any longer. I was glad that most of the black people in the town appreciated what Mr. Atticus was doing and. I respected him for defending someone not based on what their skin color was but because they were a human being and had not done anything wrong.  Since Tom had not won the case I knew that Atticus would&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; sustain&lt;/span&gt;  to be on Tom Robinson’s side.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5454027240472093875-7125454011359862631?l=katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7125454011359862631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5454027240472093875&amp;postID=7125454011359862631' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/7125454011359862631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/7125454011359862631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/journal-7-in-perspective-of-calpurnia.html' title='Journal #7 in the perspective of Calpurnia'/><author><name>kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14906495355066975490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454027240472093875.post-8559599442477861486</id><published>2009-05-22T20:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T20:11:19.164-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Journal #6- Chapters 16-19 from the perspective of Mayella Ewell</title><content type='html'>&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link style="font-family: times new roman;" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CGUSTAV%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0in; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:8.5in 11.0in; 	margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; 	mso-header-margin:.5in; 	mso-footer-margin:.5in; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0in; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: times new roman;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;I sat on the side of the room, watching my dad make his testimonial. I am only half listening, because I am having second thoughts about up to the stand. I do not want to be questioned by Mr. Atticus, because I am afraid that I might be intimidated. Atticus is almost done making my father tell his side of the story. I can see that my father is sweating a little bit, and looks scared. I hope that we win so we can put that darn Tom Robinson in jail. I do not like him much anymore, ever since this case started. My father soon finishes his testimonial and my name is called up. I regret lying to the court, because I always feel guilty when lying. I could not admit the truth though, so I would have to go through with the case. My legs trembled a little as I walk to the stand and when I sit down I twiddle my thumbs looking &lt;b style=""&gt;oblivious &lt;/b&gt;on purpose. Atticus stood up and asked me some basic information about myself. After a few minutes, I suddenly burst into tears, which got my dress wet. I was so scared for some reason, and could not stop crying. Judge Taylor was very nice about the whole situation and let me cry for a minute. After I had calmed myself down, I started to talk about myself and the situation that I was put in. I told the story from my perspective, starting out that Tom walked past my house everyday. I then told the court that one day I wanted Tom to cut something for me and he agreed to do the task. While I was going inside to get a nickel to pay him for his time he attacked me and raped me. I explained that Tom had hit me a lot of time and I was screaming and crying. I claimed that I could not remember anything after that, except my dad asking me who had done it. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: times new roman;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Atticus then stood up and started asking question about what happened when Tom raped me. I did not really want to talk about my story anymore because I though that people would begin to believe that it was &lt;b style=""&gt;fraud&lt;/b&gt;. He started asking about my life at home, which I thought was very &lt;b style=""&gt;irrelevant&lt;/b&gt;. He called me Miss Mayella which really bothered me because he was mocking me. No one else seemed to think so though, because everyone in the court was looking at me with curiosity. I felt very on the spot which I did not like.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He asked me if my father was good to me. I said that he was except and paused. Atticus looked at me curiously and prompted me to finish the sentence. I looked at him with &lt;b style=""&gt;stealthy &lt;/b&gt;like expression on my face and refused. I told a little more about what happened, but then became stubborn and said that I would not answer anymore questions. I felt very bad for not telling the whole truth, but was mad that Atticus was questioning me so much and mocking me. Just because I was from a poor family he thought that he could just walk all over me and my father. He was a &lt;b style=""&gt;pauper &lt;/b&gt;as well as most of the town, but he thought that because of our living conditions and rumors he could mock me. I did not respect that and hoped that Tom Robinson went to jail. It finally came to break time, and I would not have to answer anymore questions. I was afraid on how the whole case would turn out and hope that my side will win.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5454027240472093875-8559599442477861486?l=katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8559599442477861486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5454027240472093875&amp;postID=8559599442477861486' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/8559599442477861486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/8559599442477861486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/journal-6-chapters-16-19-from.html' title='Journal #6- Chapters 16-19 from the perspective of Mayella Ewell'/><author><name>kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14906495355066975490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454027240472093875.post-7007314826779850003</id><published>2009-05-19T15:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T20:12:12.421-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Journal #5  Chapters 13-15 from Dills perspective</title><content type='html'>&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CGUSTAV%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="City"&gt;&lt;/o:smarttagtype&gt;&lt;o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="place"&gt;&lt;/o:smarttagtype&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if !mso]&gt;&lt;object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"&gt;&lt;/object&gt; &lt;style&gt; st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0in; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} p 	{mso-margin-top-alt:auto; 	margin-right:0in; 	mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; 	margin-left:0in; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:8.5in 11.0in; 	margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; 	mso-header-margin:.5in; 	mso-footer-margin:.5in; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0in; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p&gt;The thought of running away was little &lt;b&gt;compensation&lt;/b&gt; from actually running away. I had taken 13 dollars from my moms purse one of the days that she stopped by the house. I caught a 9 o'clock train from &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Meridian&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; to the Maycomb junction, where I got off. I then walked a endless amount of miles off the road so no one could see me, and then hitched a ride on the back of a cotton wagon. When I finally saw the town of &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Maycomb&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; I was so relieved I wanted to cry. I did not though, and kept walking into the town until I stood right in front of the Finches house. I heard movement, and I knew that I could not ring the doorbell and walk in. I saw that a window was open on the side of the house though, and there was a tree next to the window. I walked over to the tree, put my foot on it and started climbing. I had a little trouble though, and it took about a half hour until I actually got to the top of the tree. When I reached the top of it I held onto the frame of the window, and jumped in the room. I knew it was Jems room, because I had been in there so many times. There was a door that connected Scouts and Jems room so I opened it and walked into Scouts room. I paused when I got to Scouts room, and looked around. The bed was is the same place though she had rearranged some things. Suddenly I heard movement and dove under the bed. I stayed under the bed for about two hours, because people had started coming upstairs.I could tell that they were coming to Scout's room, because I had &lt;b&gt;infallible &lt;/b&gt;hearing and they voices were growing much louder. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;After eavesdropping on many conversations, I finally heard Atticus telling Jem and Scout to go to sleep sternly. I had fallen asleep in the two hours that I spent under the bed, and was getting very tired again. I heard Scout getting into her bed, and I moved a little. She must have heard me because she got up quickly and told Jem with a tone of worry in her voice that she thought there was a snake under her bed. He though that she was playing with him, but came in and said that he would look under. He made a swipe under the bed and touched me briefly. I grunted, came out and &lt;b&gt;emerged &lt;/b&gt;with a casual hey. They started to stare at me, and in return I said that I was starving. Scout brought me some food from the kitchen and once I was full, I told them how I had gotten to Maycomb all the way from &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Meridian&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;. I told them of my evil step dad and how he had chained me to the basement, but I escaped and had run away. I wandered two miles out of &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Meridian&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt; and found work in a circus. I had made it up though, and I could tell that Jem and Scout did not believe me. They asked me how I had gotten here, and this time I told the truth. I told them that I had &lt;b&gt;acquired &lt;/b&gt;money from my mothers purse, and caught a train close to Maycomb, and walked the rest of the way. Jem looked at me and said that they were probably looking for me, he then went out of the room and called Atticus. Atticus came in and looked at me with a &lt;b&gt;pensive &lt;/b&gt;expression on his face and instead of screaming at me or anything he just offered me food. I pleaded him not to tell my Aunt Rachel, who was their neighbor and he said that he would ask her if he could spend the night with them. He also told me that I could bathe. I was very grateful to him and bathed as well as ate until I was full. I met Miss Alexandria, who Atticus introduced me to as his sister. She looked at me curiously and then walked away. After eating, I went to Jems room so I could go to sleep. After Jem had fallen asleep I went to Scouts room,and laid down next to her and talked about life and other subjects. After she had fallen asleep I thought about if it was a good idea to have come here. I concluded that it was, and everyone was being very nice about it. I hoped that I could spend the rest of the summer here and that I would not see my stepfather for a long time.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5454027240472093875-7007314826779850003?l=katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7007314826779850003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5454027240472093875&amp;postID=7007314826779850003' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/7007314826779850003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/7007314826779850003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/thought-of-running-away-was-little.html' title='Journal #5  Chapters 13-15 from Dills perspective'/><author><name>kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14906495355066975490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454027240472093875.post-9123289240962928365</id><published>2009-05-14T17:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T19:21:06.183-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Journal #4- Chapters 10-12 from the perspective of Atticus</title><content type='html'>&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link style="font-family: times new roman;" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CGUSTAV%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0in; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:8.5in 11.0in; 	margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; 	mso-header-margin:.5in; 	mso-footer-margin:.5in; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0in; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p style="font-family: times new roman;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;It is Sunday, and about time to go to church to open it up. Church usually starts at 9, and I had to be there around 8:30. Even though there was not that much to set up, on account that the church was so poor, I wanted to be in the church when the congregation came in. The great depression had really hurt our little church and we could not afford and &lt;b&gt;acquire&lt;/b&gt; many things. It helped that most of the congregation could not read, because we did not need to buy prayer books or any other&lt;b&gt; ecclesiastical &lt;/b&gt;thingsa that other religious organizations had. After a little while, people started to come on in the church yard and catch up with what was happening. I stayed in the back near the church doors, because I noticed one of the regular churchgoers, Calpurnia came with two white kids. Since the First Purchase African M.E church was for black people, we did not see any whites come to our church.Calpurnia came to church frequently and always pays money to keep the church up and running. She is very kind, and when she comes nearer, I recognize the two children. They are the children of Atticus Finch, a man very respected in the church and African American community. I personally respect Atticus Finch very much for many reasons. Since he took a case to help our brother Tom Robinson, he is obviously not racist. I also respect that even though the whole town talks bad about him he keeps his head held high. He probably passed his morals to his kids, whom I know their names are Scout and Jem from church gossip and Calpurnia. I saw Scout and Jem look around, obviously interested but seeming a little bit intimidated. I guess that their traditional church is much different than the First Purchase church. Calpurnia tried to keep the kids&lt;b&gt; inconspicuous&lt;/b&gt; because some of the congregation would not like that there were two white kids here. It did not work very well though because when the rest of the people saw Calpurnia, Scout and Jem they showed gestures of respect. The men took off their hats and the women made a path for them. I went back in the church to get all the materials ready for my preaching and soon folks started to enter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because Scout and Jem were new to the church and their father was Atticus, I went to the church door and led them to the first pew. Jem and Scout looked around the church, probably noticing how small and poorly furnished it was. I walked and stood behind the pulpit, so I could start the service. I felt like it was appropriate to mention that we had company, so I said that we had part of the Finch family and that everyone in the congregation knew about what their father had done to help. I announced some things about community activities like sewing at Sister Reeve’s house. I soon got down to business and started talking about Tom Robinson and how he and his family needed help and all the collection money would go toward him and his family. It was time for Zeebo to lead the first hymn, so I gave way to him. As he spoke the lyrics and people sang after him, I closed my eyes quickly and said a prayer for the Robinsons. The Robinsons had been church goers for a while, and I hoped that everything would turn out okay. After the hymn, I called the Lord to bless the sick and the suffering, a process done in every church. I started my sermon, which involved sins and warning about the many sins out there. I also specified certain sins, which I felt was important so people could recognize sins that happened every day. Jim Hardy had not been to church in 5 weeks and he was not sick, that was considered a sin. After my sermon it was time for the morning offering. I grabbed the offering can, which was a tin can and came in front of the pulpit and held it out. People started bringing money and putting it in the can. This was a method so I could see who paid money and who did not. At the end of the morning offering, I poured the money out and found that there was not enough. I announced that there needed to be ten dollars, and instructed someone to shut the door. No one was to leave until the full amount was collected. After a while people came up and gave one, I had to call on a few people to say that they had not paid though which I knew embarrassed them and guilted them into giving money. During the process of collecting money I told the congregation that the money would go to the Robinsons. When the service had finished, I stood at the church door and went into conversation with Scout and Jem. I commented that the church really appreciated what their father was doing. Suddenly Scout asked me why we were collecting money for the Robinsons. I responded by saying that she could not take her kids with her to look for work, so they needed some extra money. She seemed &lt;b&gt;pensive&lt;/b&gt; and started to say something &lt;b&gt;inaudible&lt;/b&gt;, but her brother Jem put his hand on his shoulder which prompted her to thank me for letting them come to the church. I said you’re welcome, and they promptly left.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5454027240472093875-9123289240962928365?l=katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/feeds/9123289240962928365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5454027240472093875&amp;postID=9123289240962928365' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/9123289240962928365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/9123289240962928365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/journal-4-chapters-10-12-from.html' title='Journal #4- Chapters 10-12 from the perspective of Atticus'/><author><name>kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14906495355066975490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454027240472093875.post-3059851656348566000</id><published>2009-05-11T20:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T15:21:46.028-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Journal #3- Chapters 8-9  from the perspective of Atticus</title><content type='html'>&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 12"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 12"&gt;&lt;link style="font-family: times new roman;" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CGustavo%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;link style="font-family: times new roman;" rel="themeData" href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CGustavo%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx"&gt;&lt;link style="font-family: times new roman;" rel="colorSchemeMapping" href="file:///C:%5CUsers%5CGustavo%5CAppData%5CLocal%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_colorschememapping.xml"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:trackmoves/&gt;   &lt;w:trackformatting/&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt; 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It has not snowed since 1885, and it was the coldest two weeks. During this time poor Mrs. Radley died. I went over to the Radley house to place my grieving with the Radley family. I told Scout and Jem this, but I believe that they did not think that Mrs. Radley died because of old age and natural causes. They were whispering to each other when I told them this, and Scout asked me if I had seen Mr. Arthur. Truthfully, I had not and I wondered why they were so curious about Mr. Arthur. I did not like talking about the Radleys because of all the rumors that go around.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I believe that they have a right to their privacy and no one should care about their personal problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The next morning a thin layer of snow had fallen, and I was shaving when Scout woke up. She started screaming, and as a good father would do I ran to her room to see what the matter was. She exclaimed that the world was ending. Jem had heard all the commotion and he proceeded to ask me if it would keep on snowing. I was &lt;b style=""&gt;debating&lt;/b&gt; on whether to say that the snow would probably be gone soon, because I knew that would make them sad. I told them that it would probably not last because the snow was so watery. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The telephone rang, and I answered it. Eula May had called to say that school was cancelled. I told the kids to eat breakfast, but they wanted to go outside and could not keep staring out the window.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Scout was &lt;b style=""&gt;fanatical &lt;/b&gt;about the snow, and I could tell that she was very excited. Jem asked me how to make a snowman, but I had no idea how to make one myself. I told him that I did not think that there was enough snow and that the snow would probably not stick. Calpurnia came in though, and said the complete opposite of what I said. She exclaimed that the snow was sticking. I watched the kids go outside and have fun, Jem telling Scout to be careful. Miss Maudie was calling them and they ran over to her yard. When they came back they had snow that they were carrying in peach basket.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;A few hours later, Scout called me and I could hear the excitement in her voice. She told me that Jem and he had a surprise for me when I came home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;When I came home, I saw that most of the snow in the backyard had been transferred to the front yard into a snowman.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I was truly impressed by it and told Scout and Jem that they had a dandy job. I especially complemented Jem because he was always making up things to make and to do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;After staring at the snowman for a little while, I noticed that it resembled someone. To be more specific it resembled Mr. Avery. I told Jem and Scout that they better disguise the snowman.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Jem had an expression that showed &lt;b style=""&gt;perplexity&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I then told them that they should not make caricatures of our neighbors. Jem retorted by saying that it was not a caricature, it looked just like him. Jem exclaimed that he knew what would fix it and went across the street, coming back with a gardening hat and hedge clippers. Miss Maudie came running out and started yelling playfully at Jem. I went over to Miss Maude and Jem, who were having a very loud conversation. Miss Maude looked at me and said that I would never raise them, them being Scout and Jem. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The snow had stopped in the afternoon, and all the fires were burning in the house but it was still very cold. I asked Calpurnia if she wanted to stay with us but she politely declined, so I drove her to her home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I soon went to sleep after the kids, but was awakened by someone knocking on the door. I went to see what all the fuss was about and found out that Miss Maude’s house was ablaze. I quickly woke up Scout and Jem and instructed them to get dressed and follow me outside. I told them to stand by the Radley place, not caring what they thought about it. Fire trucks were surrounding the house, and about the entire town was observing the spectacle. A man shouted at me to help carry out all the furniture, so I helped.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;After a while of taking furniture out, I stood besides some neighbors and Miss Maude. The roof on the house suddenly fell which shocked us all. By dawn most everyone began to leave, and Scout and Jem came walking towards me. I shook my head to signal that Miss Maude did not want to talk, which they understood. I asked them if they wanted any hot chocolate and they obliged. By now we were in our house, away from the fire area. As I drank the cocoa, I noticed a blanket around Scouts shoulders, and said that told them to stay pu. They said that they did and had not even noticed the blanket.. I said that Scout could thank him later for the blanket. She looked at me in confusion and asked who. I responded by saying Boo Radley, since Boo had put the blanket on her. For some reasons Jem started blurting out things about the Radleys, and something about his pants, a whole in the tree and how Nathan Radley did not like them. I was really confused, but I told Scout and Jem that they should not tell anyone about what they told me and that Scout should thank Boo. I knew that Scout was scared of him, but hopefully she would learn the truth about him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Scout and Jem have gone back to school, and the house is a lot quieter without them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;When Scout came home she told me about her day, and asked me if I ever defended black people. She said the n word though, and I told her not to say it anymore, because it was rude. After I said that she said that everyone at school said that. I disliked that she wanted to follow what other people were saying and doing, so I told her to be the person who does not say it. I explained to her that I was defending a black man called Tom Robinson in a trial. When she asked me if I was going to win, I answered truthfully and said no. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I told her that we would not win because he is a black man, but I should try to win. I think Scout learned a lesson from what I said, because she told me that she walked away from a fight at school.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Christmas came, and my brother Jack spent time with us. In the time that he was here, he soon was &lt;b style=""&gt;acquainted&lt;/b&gt; with what Scout was doing at school. She had started cursing so that she could get out of school. This had been going on for a while and I had been ignoring it, knowing that it was a stage. I asked Jack too as well, but he obviously could not take it. During Thanksgiving dinner when Scout cursed when she asked for the ham he got very mad. He talked to Scout after dinner about the language that she had been using and somehow got her to use curse words much less often. The next day was Christamas, and Scout and Jem got the gifts that they wanted. Like every year I was to take them to visit their Aunt Alexandria at Finch’s landing. I could tell that the kids did not like going there because they loathed their cousin and I made them play with him while they were there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;During the visit Scout, Jem and Francis played outside while Alexandra, Jack and I made common conversation. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Later that night, after the visit when we were at home I started to talk to Jack about what I should do with the kids, Scout particularly. Sometimes she frustrated me so much. I talked deeply about the case that I was dealing with currently with Tom Robinson. I did not want the kids to be exposed to many things and to learn to judge people. After some conversation, I suspected that Scout was listening in, and told her to go to bed. She was leaning &lt;b style=""&gt;adjacent &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;to the wall when she peeked out to see me and Jack and I was pretty sure that she heard my whole conversation which somewhat worried me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p  class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5454027240472093875-3059851656348566000?l=katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3059851656348566000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5454027240472093875&amp;postID=3059851656348566000' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/3059851656348566000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/3059851656348566000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/journal-2-chapters-8-9-from-perspective.html' title='Journal #3- Chapters 8-9  from the perspective of Atticus'/><author><name>kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14906495355066975490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454027240472093875.post-7397279612884204215</id><published>2009-05-10T16:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T20:06:19.101-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Journal #2- Chapters 4-7 from the perspective of Jem</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;School dragged on for a long time, and the new Dewey Decimal system made school even something that Scout and I looked forward to even less. As the school year passed, Scout began to go home without me because her class got out about 30 minutes earlier than mine. One day when I came home and Scout was already home she was chewing on some gum. I wanted to know where she got it, since we usually did not get gum. She told me that when she was running home she saw a shiny thing, which was the gum. She found some tinfoil and two pieces of unwrapped gum. Even though she saw that it was unwrapped, it looked fresh so she ate it. When she told me the whole story, I told her that she should not have eaten things that she found on the ground.  I told her harshly to spit it out and explained that she should not get things from around the Radley house. She looked mad but said that I had once touched the house, but I used &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;evasion&lt;/span&gt; so I did not have to answer the question.  Since I was the older brother, I had to be mature. I told her to wash her mouth or else I would tell Calpurnia. Since Scout seemed to not want to get in trouble with Calpurnia, she did as I was told. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;School was starting to end, meaning that summer was coming fast.   Summers was a time that Scout and I could relax, play and have fun with Dill, who we have not seen in a long time.  On the last day of school, Scout and I got to walk home together. We walked passed Radley place and Scout pointed out where the gum was. She was right, and I saw that there was a piece of foil.  I also saw a few coins which made me think that the place with the gum was someone’s hiding place.  Scout started thinking about that, and came up with a conclusion that grownups don’t really have hiding places. The only person who walks everyday on our block, and has the slightest possibility of hiding something was Cecil Jacobs. It was obvious that everyone avoided the Radley place because even Cecil took a long way so she did not have to pass by the house.  Scout and I talked about what we should do with the coins, and we decided to keep them.  I thought that we should ask around in case they were someone’s but I thought that we should not start &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;quibbling&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two days later, Dill finally came, and with his arrival I knew that me and Scout would have a fun summer. Dill and Scout started talking and I soon joined in. He started saying that he could smell death and said that Scout would die in three days. I looked at him in disbelief, and thought that he was very immature. We talked for a little while, and Scout said a somewhat racist comment. When she did I was mad and scowled at her so I could show her that she should not say things like that. We started to play with a tire and rolling with them . I pushed Scout and looked at her roll. She stopped rolling though and landed straight in front of the steps of the Radley place. I shouted at her to get out of there and she ran up to Dill and me. She stupidly left the tire there so I told her to go get it. I could tell that she was mad at me and she told me to get it, since I had touched the house.   I ran down fast and grabbed the tire. After I had grabbed it Calpurnia came out of the house and said that there was lemonade. As we sipped our lemonade, Dill said that he had a great idea for a new game. This game was one where we acted like the Radleys.  Dill assigned us roles and for some reason I was Boo. Over the summer we kept playing our game until it was perfected.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;One day we were playing, Atticus came out and asked us if we were talking about the Radleys. We said that we were not but I felt bad for lying to him. When he left, Scout asked me if we could play anymore. I said that Atticus did not exactly say that we could not play anymore. Scout seemed not to want to play anymore, for a different reason than Atticus being mad at us. For the rest of the summer, we hung out and spent time with Maudie Atkinson.  Scout spent more time with her though, because Dill and I were spending a lot more time together. After a while of summer, Dill and I started talking in the backyard. Scout tried to join in the conversation but we told her to go away. Scout sometimes got very annoying. She said that the backyard belonged to her too and that she was going to stay. Dill and I decided that we were going to write a letter to Boo Radley. I was to put the letter on a fishing pull and stick it through the shutters. Scout started to&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; torment&lt;/span&gt; me verbally about what we were doing, which was very annoying much like a lot of things that she did. After planning out what we were going to do, Dill, Scout and I walked on the block to the Radleys house. When it was all clear, I attached the note to the fishing pole and tried to put it through the shutters. After a few tries the note did not get in the house. Dill started ringing the dinner bell, and I turned around to see Atticus staring at us. He asked me harshly what we were doing. I said nothing, though that was a very big lie. He finally made me spill out the truth. After hearing me out he told us not to pester the man any more. He did not want us to make fun of anyone in town, we had to stop playing our game and we could not go near the Radley house unless we were invited. I knew that would never happen though because that Radleys would not invite anyone over.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Dill was leaving soon, and I knew that he could not go without us taking one look at Boo Radley. Dill liked the idea, and we decided that we had to convince Scout to go with us.  Scout really did not want to go but in the end she gave in. I think it had something to do with her curiosity. In the end we were all &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;unanimous&lt;/span&gt; in the decision to go on Dills last night in Maycomb. As we were all going I held up the bottom wire of the fence so we could get through. I whispered to Dill and Scout not to make a sound because I knew something very bad would happen if we did. Finally after many obstacles including a very squeaky gate we were in the Radleys backyard. The backyard was a lot dirtier and less inviting than the front of the house. Dill suggested that we go through the back window. Scout quickly said no, knowing the danger of doing that. Dill let me go first, and as I stepped on a box to get it up it squeaked. I crawled in the window and looked around. It was silent as I did, and soon I saw a shadow cast over me. I put my arms over my head and almost shook in fear. The shadow then went back to where it came from. Soon it was frenzy as we started to run. The box teetered as I went down to the floor. I opened the gate and heard a gunshot. I started running for my life, and sobbed as I said to go to the fence by the schoolyard. As I went through the fence, my pants got caught which scared me a lot. We finally got to our house. I saw a crowd gathered around the Radley house. I was shocked at this point because I hoped no one found out it was us on his property. Nathan Radley was speaking and I found out that a black man had been on the Radleys property, and the shooting was intended to scare him off. After hearing that, I was relieved, and felt a breeze. I looked down and saw that I was not wearing any pants. Miss Stephanie must have also noticed because she questioned me, but I made up a quick lie and explained that we were playing strip poker. She seems to have believed me which was good. I decided that I should probably get my pants back though, because I knew that Atticus would get very suspicious. I went quickly to get them, and when I came back Scout was sitting on our porch waiting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;I tried to stay like a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;chameleon&lt;/span&gt; for about a week, trying to blend in and be quiet. The reason why I was so quiet was because when I went to fetch my pants, they were folded up and had been sewn up. I did not tell Scout that until a while after school started though. We continued to walk past the Radley house though and while we walked, there was a piece of twine in our tree where we found all the other treasures like the coins and gum. After a little while of waiting I took it because it was obvious that it was not a hiding place. A few days later there were two sculptures made of soap that strangely looked like me and Scout. There was also a pack of gum, a spelling bee medal and a pocket watch with a knife.  I wanted to leave a not for the person that was putting the stuff there, but Nathan Radley said that the tree was dying and it had to be cemented. I knew that this was not true at all and I asked Atticus if it looked like the tree was dying. Atticus said that the tree looked fine, and for some reasons I started to cry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5454027240472093875-7397279612884204215?l=katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7397279612884204215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5454027240472093875&amp;postID=7397279612884204215' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/7397279612884204215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/7397279612884204215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/journal-2-chapters-4-7-from-perspective.html' title='Journal #2- Chapters 4-7 from the perspective of Jem'/><author><name>kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14906495355066975490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454027240472093875.post-1381511684530207958</id><published>2009-05-03T10:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T20:38:51.095-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Journal #1- Chapters 1-3 from the perspective of Dill (Charles Baker Harris)</title><content type='html'>&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; 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	mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;I came to Maycomb county the year that I was about to be 7. I was going to stay at my Aunt Rachel’s house for the whole entire summer. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I haven’t been much to Aunt Rachel’s house, but from now on I get to spend every summer with her, rather than staying in Meridan ,Mississippi which is my home.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;When I came to Maycomb County I started to explore, and found that I really liked to play in Aunties yard and collard patch.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;One day I was sitting in the collard patch, and relaxing when a shadow came onto me. I looked up and stared because there were two kids looking at me. One was pretty tall, but looked about my age. The other one looked a lot older than me, but looked nice all the same. The tall one was a girl and the older one was a boy. The silence was pretty awkward, so I said hey. I introduced myself, and added that I could read because I love sharing that with people. The boy stared at me with an expression that looked like he thought I was &lt;b style=""&gt;eccentric&lt;/b&gt;. Then he asked how old I was.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;“I’m going on seven,” I said as he stared down at me &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;condescendingly&lt;/span&gt;. Because of my remark, we started to talk about ourselves. I started to like these two people, whose names were Scout (the girl) and Jem (the boy). Jem was ten and Scout was six. She seemed a lot more mature for her age, and she could also read. That fact really &lt;b style=""&gt;irked&lt;/b&gt; me because I thought that I was the only six year old that could read. I began to tell them about my life and where I lived. I told them that my mom had lived in Maycomb County and she entered me in a beautiful child contest and I won. I told them this so I could show off a little, and make them realize that I am a interesting person. I had won five whole dollars, and spent it very quickly. I spent the money on the picture show because I love pictures so much.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;After explaining that, Jem looked at me and said that Maycomb County did not even have picture shows, only ones about Jesus in the courthouse. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;After continuing talking we became friends, and for the rest of the summer I played with Scout and Dill. We enjoyed acting out scenes of books and plays. I always had fun when I played with them and was happy that I would be spending summers in Maycomb County. I loved Maycomb County and had an interest in one of Scouts neighbors, whose name was Boo Radley. Supposedly he was a maniac. Jem filled me with plenty of stories about him and his craziness. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;To me it sounded like a urban legend, but in the end the stories began to &lt;b style=""&gt;intimidate &lt;/b&gt;me.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Jem informed me that inside the house&lt;b style=""&gt; &lt;/b&gt;a &lt;b style=""&gt;malevolent &lt;/b&gt;ghost haunted the place. I did not really believe him though because everyone knows that there aren’t such things as ghosts. Scout and Jem kept telling me about the house, and I became more and more interested. After a while I became very curious with what he looks like. I told Scout and Jem that we should try to get him out of the house to see how he really is. Jem had said one of his &lt;b style=""&gt;pronouncements&lt;/b&gt; earlier, about how Boo Radley was six and a half feet tall and ate cats and squirrels. He also said that his teeth were yellow, there was a scra across his face and his hands were bloodstained. Jem obviously was scared to see what Boo looked like, so he though about it for about three days. I told him that were I came from, people would not be scared at all. That must have really got him because he went to the corner of the street and then proclaimed that we would get killed. After talking to him we decided that he would run and touch the house. After all, I knew that he would not chicken out of a dare.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Jem threw open the gate and went up to the house, touched it and ran back out. After many more adventures, I left Maycomb County in September. I was sad to go and could not wait until I came back next summer. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5454027240472093875-1381511684530207958?l=katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1381511684530207958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5454027240472093875&amp;postID=1381511684530207958' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/1381511684530207958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/1381511684530207958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/2009/05/journal-1-chapters-1-3-from-perspective.html' title='Journal #1- Chapters 1-3 from the perspective of Dill (Charles Baker Harris)'/><author><name>kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14906495355066975490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454027240472093875.post-8913663468226830795</id><published>2009-04-03T15:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T21:20:42.150-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Immigration Project Reflection</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;              &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;        book that I got assigned to read in this project was Hello, America by Livia Bitton Jackson. I enjoyed reading this book and had a good experience surrounding the book. I was happy with my choice because I learned a lot more about the Jewish community in America and how life was when immigrants first came to America. I also enjoyed reading about the adjustments that the main character had to make in order to live in America. Because the life that the main character, Elli had beforehand, it was nice to see how her life changed.  This book allowed me to see immigration in a different perspective, and not by a historical perspective. To me it was fascinating to see the many hardships that Elli faced and the difference in life between America and her old home.               &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;           If I could add something to improve the literature circle project it would be to discuss with the group about the book. Though I thought that it was easier to blog about the books online, it would have been better to discuss the book in our groups. I think that it would be better because you can share your views and better discuss what you thought of the book.  I thought that blogging was easier, because we got more time to do it, and we could analyze the book as well as respond to our group blog posts. I liked blogging though, because it was a different and interesting way to share what we thought about our books. While blogging I did not have very many problems with the blogging. The instructions were very straightforward, with little room for mistake. The only problems I had were because of my peers blogs. Some blogs were not complete or they were not done, which made it difficult to respond to. During reading the book and blogging I learned many things. I learned more deeply about Jewish immigration and immigration in general. I also learned that sometimes, it takes time to fit in and when immigrants come to a new country they are usually escaping something. I also learned how to respond to blog posts and blog more wisely.                                                                                               The decision process for my painting took a long time, but in the end I think that the process helped me to make a great painting. I had to make 3 rough drafts in order to decide what my final painting would be. There were six themes to choose from, and of those I chose to do the book cover, cultural components and a famous painting redone to incorporate the novel. When my rough drafts were done they were reviewed which helped me make my final decision. I had some controversies between two of my drafts for many reasons. Many others were doing the book cover so I was recommended to do another besides the book cover. I liked my book cover more, so it was a hard decision to make, either to be original or to paint the sketch that I liked. In the end I decided to make the book cover because I thought that I would do a better job with it.          &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;           I think that there are a few connections with my art piece and the book. I wanted to capture what I thought the main character of the book , Elli saw when she came to Ellis Island. One of the major connections was to a scene in the book. In my painting there is the statue of liberty in front of buildings, which related to the beginning of the book. In the beginning Elli and her mother were coming to New York and they saw the Statue of Liberty in front. The author described the emotions that people had when they saw the statue, which is why it was connected and included in my painting.          &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;            I believe that my painting turned out to be pretty good, though I think that it could have been much better. I did not put many details into it and I did not give my best. I also was a little messy and had to touch up many areas. I think that I could have enhanced my painting by making it more detailed and have put more symbolic elements in it. I also would have wanted to make the border less plain. I learned many things from the experience of creating artwork about the novel that I was assigned to. I learned that to make good decisions it nice to have a peer review things, like people did when they gave constructive criticism on my painting. I also learned that drafts are helpful because of instead of only doing one draft, with many you can change things as well as improve.For the interview portion of the project I chose to interview my neighbor Silvia, who immigrated from Iraq. Since I knew her, it was very easy to talk to her and to interview her. I was comfortable making eye contact and asking her questions. I think that the interviews that I did went very well and I got a large amount of interview. It was difficult to think of some questions though, because she had lived in London, England as well as Iraq. I wanted to ask questions about both places, but since the focus was of Iraq, I had to think of some short questions about London. Since we had to interview our immigrants three times, it was important to communicate with them. We had to interview them once by phone, once by email and one in person. Since the interviewee was a neighbor, it was easier to go interview in person all three times. I felt that it was nice to interview our immigrant three times because it gave us a chance to ask more questions and learn a lot more about them.  I learned many things from the interview, about Iraq and about Silvia. In my first interview I learned that Silvia lived in Iraq, and then moved to London for a surgery. While she was in London she met her husband who was also an immigrant from Iraq. He came to London because he wanted to attend a London University. I learned in the second interview that most Iraqis live in Detroit, Michigan and Chicago. Iraqis started coming to America because of the good weather. Iraqis have their own churches and there is a Chaldean church in San Diego that is called St. Peters Chaldean church. I found this very interesting because I was not aware that there was a lot of Iraqis in San Diego. In the third interview I learned many fascinating things as well. Silvia still has family living in Iraq, though most of her family immigrated for various reasons. Some of the reasons were that they were afraid of the war. Her family communicates with the relatives they have in Iraq, and send money. Her family in Iraq always has the constant worry that bombs are going to drop on them, because they are already dropping in the area where they live.Interviewing an immigrant greatly helped me understand about immigration history and the experience. I learned about the hardships in America, and how it was sometimes hard to get a permit to live in the US. Interviewing someone also helped me realize what people do to get to the land of the free. They leave behind their homes, their families and their whole life in order to make a new one. I could never imagine leaving my home to move somewhere else. I could not imagine having to adjust to a whole new culture and going someone new and foreign. The experience of learning about an immigrant’s life also helped me realize how the cultures of immigrants have formed America. Without immigrants we would not have the vast amount of languages, or holidays that we have. One major thing the immigrants have impacted is food. Because of them we have pasta, sushi, burritos and other foods. The gift that I chose to make for my immigrant was a calendar. I gave my immigrant the choice of a calendar, a scrapbook or a children’s book. The calendar that I made included photographs of famous Iraqi sites, as well as a few of London to show where she has lived, and a picture of the American flag.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5454027240472093875-8913663468226830795?l=katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8913663468226830795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5454027240472093875&amp;postID=8913663468226830795' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/8913663468226830795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/8913663468226830795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/2009/04/immigration-project-reflection.html' title='Immigration Project Reflection'/><author><name>kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14906495355066975490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454027240472093875.post-4415500518112099042</id><published>2009-03-09T19:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T20:19:21.698-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lit Circle #6-Hello America</title><content type='html'>Quote #1: " A new teacher at the Yeshiva of Central Queens,Leslie Beck also lives in Brooklyn, and it was her who suggested we attend the Friday-afternoon lecture series at the Hebrew Teacher's Association together."&lt;br /&gt;         Page 216, Chapter 26&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Significance: This quote proves that Elli is making various types of friends. Elli is also becoming much more involved with her work and making that a big part of her life. Since Elli has become a teacher there has been a change in how she acts. Elli has gotten much more responsible and is using her teaching skills for other reasons, for example during the summer camp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Character Analysis: Leslie Beck has become her friend and is another teacher so Elli and Leslie have many things that are similar. Leslie has exposed Elli to many things such as lectures and theories about religion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Question: How has Elli's life changed from when she started to be a teacher?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quote #2: "That there are preparatory courses for the exam,free of charge, and both the courses and exams are administered at Washington Irving High School in Lower Manhattan. You too can take these courses, and then take the exam for a diploma. If you pass,which I am sure you will, you can enter college"&lt;br /&gt;          -said by Bubi, page 226, chapter 27&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Significance: This is a very big step for Elli, because with a diploma she could have more opportunities and she will be able to pursue the dream of going to college. I thought that this quote was important because it foreshadowed what was going to happen a little.  I also thought that it was important because with a diploma Elli will be able to fill more requirements for teaching positions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Connection: Though I cannot exactly connect with the situation, I know how it feels when you are offered an opportunity that can help later in the future. For example, I once took a typing class that I did not think I would use, but now I am very thankful for taking it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Question: Do you  that if Elli gets her high school diploma she will go on to college? Why?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5454027240472093875-4415500518112099042?l=katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4415500518112099042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5454027240472093875&amp;postID=4415500518112099042' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/4415500518112099042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/4415500518112099042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/2009/03/lit-circle-6-hello-america.html' title='Lit Circle #6-Hello America'/><author><name>kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14906495355066975490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454027240472093875.post-3402356597040856333</id><published>2009-03-02T13:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T20:32:03.937-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lit Circle #5 - Hello, America</title><content type='html'>Quote #1: "A special bond of friendship has developed between Mr. Jackson and me during debate about his proud insistence that the ancient Hebrews were black, a claim that had prompted me to call him my Hebrew brother."&lt;br /&gt;         - page 178, chapter 21&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Significance: Mr. Jackson had become a good friend of Elli and has played a important role in her life. He has introduced her to many theories like that ancient Hebrews were black. My favorite part of this quote is the end, where it says that she called him her Hebrew brother. It is stereotypical for African Americans to call their male friends brothers, which is why Elli was calling Mr. Jackson her Hebrew brother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Character Analysis:  Mr. Jackson is becoming a close family friends to Elli and her family, the Bittons. He is funny and like to test things, such as theories. He also likes to discuss many things and is a intellectual man. He helped Elli's family by assisting them when they moved to their new home.&lt;div class="cssButtonOuter"&gt;&lt;div class="cssButtonMiddle"&gt;&lt;div class="cssButtonInner"&gt;&lt;a&gt;Saving...&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Question: Do you think that Mr. Jackson will help Elli in other ways? Why do you think that Elli and Mr. Jackson connect as friends?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quote #2: " With great reluctance I crawl out of my warm nest on th convertible sofa and approach the window. Ocean Avenue has been converted  into a winter wonderland! A white  blanket of snow covers everything in sight!&lt;br /&gt;         - page 180, chapter 21&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Significance: Elli has probably not seen snow before, and if she has then this expirience must have been much different than the one before. This is Elli's first snowfall, and she seems very excited about it. I think that she is happy that she has a snowfall in a time of peace, not in a time of chaos, it makes the whole experience much different. It is also important because it is the first snowfall in America, in her new apartment and in her new life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Personal Connection: I can connect to this because I was this excited when I saw my snow falling and snow on the ground. I had wanted to see real snow for a long time and took a trip up to the mountains for that. I know how it felt to come out of bed, because it is so warm and go out into the cold. It was a really fun experience for me when I saw snow for the very first time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Question: How did you feel when you saw snow for the first time? Where did you go to&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5454027240472093875-3402356597040856333?l=katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3402356597040856333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5454027240472093875&amp;postID=3402356597040856333' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/3402356597040856333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/3402356597040856333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/2009/03/lit-circle-5-hello-america.html' title='Lit Circle #5 - Hello, America'/><author><name>kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14906495355066975490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454027240472093875.post-7929465324018198565</id><published>2009-03-01T17:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T18:24:52.342-08:00</updated><title type='text'>LC #4- Hello America</title><content type='html'>Quote #1: "Bubi teaches me how to use the phone book, and I manage to locate the number of the Jewish Education Committee. On Monday I can barely wait for my lunch hour, when I plan to make the phone call and take my first steps toward a teaching career!"&lt;br /&gt;          -Quote on page 126&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Significance: Elli is starting to learn many skills that will be vital when she live in America, such as knowing how to used telephone books.  Elli is starting to realize that she can achieve what she wants to if she puts effort into it and really tries hard. The part of this quote that I liked the most was the last section. Elli stated that she was going to take her first steps towards a teaching career.  It is obvious that Elli is very passionate about what she wants to achieve and have as a job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Character Analysis:  Elli is starting to understand what her passions in life are and is beginning to want to take steps, no matter how large in order to achieve them.  She is very excited to make this call and see what her future holds for her.  Elli is starting to expand her options with working, though she wanted to be a teacher she has worked other jobs in order to get to that point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Question: Why do you think that Elli wants to become a teacher?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quote #2: "'Okay', I shout in a flare of temper at the gray-haired official. 'Deny me membership. It is your privilege. But I promise you, the day will come when you'll regret your desicion! The day will come when you offer me membership and I will refuse it!"&lt;br /&gt;          - Said by Elli, pg. 127&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Significance: The quote describes what Elli feels about the situations she has been put in. Elli wanted to be a teacher but was not allowed because she did not have the correct qualifications and training. This quote shows that America is not always the land of opportunity, because sometimes dreams will be crushed.  The part that stood out to me was when she mentioned them regretting their decision. This shows that Elli feels like she would have been a wonderful teacher, but she did not get a chance to try to be a real teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Character Analysis: Elli is letting her true feelings/emotions out when she figured out that she could not be a teacher. Elli had wanted to be a teacher for so long, but she had her dream crushed. Elli really showed her anger as she screamed at the official. Elli felt crushed, sad, angry and many other emotions during this part of the story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Question: Why do you think that they did not give Elli a chance to prove her skills?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5454027240472093875-7929465324018198565?l=katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7929465324018198565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5454027240472093875&amp;postID=7929465324018198565' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/7929465324018198565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/7929465324018198565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/2009/03/lc-4-hello-america.html' title='LC #4- Hello America'/><author><name>kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14906495355066975490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454027240472093875.post-6218903543246163195</id><published>2009-02-24T16:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T10:30:41.289-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello, America - Lit circle #3</title><content type='html'>Quote: "Alex's desire to become a 'good Jew' because of me deepens my attachment to him. It adds a spiritual dimension to our friendship"&lt;br /&gt;       - Pg. 85 Ch 9&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Significance: I chose this quote for various reasons. First off I think that in this part of the story Elli is making more friendships and is blending in with others. Elli is also adapting with the various religious that there are in America. Elli is letting other people know freely of her religion and others are becoming interested. Religion is a important part in most peoples life and it is good to be comfortable sharing it with others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Character Analysis: Alex is Elli's doctor and one of her first friends in America. Alex is becoming very close with Elli although there is a large age difference. Alex has been a good friend to Elli and her family. This quote shows that Alex cares about Elli so much that Alex is interested in becoming a better person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Question: Why do you think that Alex is so interested in Elli's religion?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quote: " This us what I love about America! The knowledge of possibilities and the freedom to achieve, if only I work hard."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Significance: This quote is showing a immigrants perspective on America and why they like the thought of it (America)  so much. Elli and her mother came to America for a better life and to escape war and the Nazis. Elli has had many possibilities with the different jobs she has been offered. In Elli's current job she is working hard to at her job at achieving at it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Personal Connection: Though I cannot exactly connect with Elli, I understand why she thinks of America in this way. America is the land of opportunity and Elli is using the opportunities that she gets to have a better life. Although Elli has only been around for a while she is understanding what the American "dream" is all about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Question: Do you agree with this quote and see America as depicted by immigrants, as the "land of the free and the home of the brave"?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5454027240472093875-6218903543246163195?l=katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6218903543246163195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5454027240472093875&amp;postID=6218903543246163195' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/6218903543246163195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/6218903543246163195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/2009/02/hello-america-lit-circle-3.html' title='Hello, America - Lit circle #3'/><author><name>kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14906495355066975490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454027240472093875.post-4803462953994069185</id><published>2009-02-19T18:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-19T21:21:29.284-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello, America- Lit circle meeting 2</title><content type='html'>-Quote #1:  "My heart is like the new glass tumblers in front of us overflowing with sparkling red Tokay Wine. It is filled to the brim."&lt;br /&gt;          - Pg. 50  Ch. 5&lt;br /&gt;- Significance: This quote is describing Elli's feelings and how happy Elli was when her family was all together again. Elli probably had not seen more than one member of her family for yesr because they were all separated and put in concentration camps. To be with the people that love you and that were still alive at that time must have been rare so Elli was bursting with joy because of their reunion.&lt;br /&gt;-Personal Connection: Though I cannot connect fully to the quote I know how Ellie felt. It is really nice to have familys together again espicially when you do not see them that often. You get to share stories and reconnect. I remember in Nicaragua, where my dad is from often there are large family reunions. Since I do not go to Nicaragua often its is nice to see all my cousins,aunts and other family members.&lt;br /&gt;- Question: Do you think there were any other reasons that Elli was happy besides the fact that she was seeing her most of her family together again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Quote #2: "Judy and her friends promise is a secret treasure I carry with me like a souvenir"&lt;br /&gt;          - Pg. 64  Ch. 6&lt;br /&gt;- Significance: In this part of the book, Elli had started to adapt and make friends. The significance in this quote was that she was starting a new life and going to that new life happy and with peers. Elli had mentioned before that she missed school and she must have been very happy when Elli found out she could go to school there. I think that the strongest part in this quote is when it says " a secret treasure I carry with me like a souvenier." No one else knew about Elli and her friends promise and in a way it was one of the first good things that had happened in her new life in America.&lt;br /&gt;- Character Analysis: I think that in this part of the book Elli has started to grow as an American Citizen new to the country. she has expanded and made friends and has been promised schooling. It seemed like when Elli and her mother first came to America she was quote nervous for her new life. Because of her newfound friendship Elli seems to start to be fitting in and adapting to life.&lt;br /&gt;- Question:  Has there been anytimes when you have been alone and had to make friends. Was it hard, scary? Describe why&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5454027240472093875-4803462953994069185?l=katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4803462953994069185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5454027240472093875&amp;postID=4803462953994069185' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/4803462953994069185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/4803462953994069185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/2009/02/hello-america-lit-circle-meeting-2.html' title='Hello, America- Lit circle meeting 2'/><author><name>kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14906495355066975490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454027240472093875.post-1278641617596209908</id><published>2009-02-16T10:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T17:26:58.129-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Liberty Station Field Trip Reflection</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt;From Haven to Home&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The main purpose of this exhibit was to understand Jewish history and how they played a part in America's history. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;In this exhibit I learned a variety of very interesting facts like the history of when Jewish people arrived her. In 1654, twenty three Jewish children and adults came to America by boat and arrived to New Amsterdam or New York as it it now. They came from Brazil where it was unsafe because of Portuguese Conquerors. When they arrived in New Amsterdam the Dutch governor, Pieter Stuyvesant did not want them there. He did not allow them to own any land. The Jewish petitioned and in turn they won the case and got the privilege of owning land.When America started their own government and created the constitution there were 2,000 Jews living in America. The constitution protected there religion because of the freedom of religion clause in the first amendment. Jewish people were a significant part of our history like during the time when there were slaves. There were many Jews living in the South and when the North opposed slavery the Jews went along with the South. One important time that I learned about was during the Holocaust. There were many Jews already living in America but many wanted to immigrate because of the horrible things that Hitler and the Nazi were doing to them. America only let limited numbers of Jewish immigrants in though.  later in History Jewish people had made a significant impact on America's history. There were many famous jewish people that I did not know were Jewish. The first Jew in congress came in 1841, Oscar Strauss was the first cabinet member. In 1906, Woodrow Wilson appointed Louis Brandois to be in the congress as well. One of the most interesting facts that I learned about famous Jewish people was about Benjamin Segal. Benjamin "Bugsy" Segal was a gangster in the early 1940's. He founded Las Vejas in that time period as well.  Another famous Jewish person was Dr. Seuss, the author of many famous children's books. I was really interested by this because I had not known before. In this exhibit I learned that without Jewish people we would not have so many rich cultures, Las Vejas or many other thing that make America so special.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Children of Immigrants&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this exhibit I learned about how children of immigrants came to America and how it was like to come to America. This exhibit was made up of quotes, photographs and essays that were of immigrants or by immigrants. There were many photographs that I though were interesting but one really struck me.  This photograph was called the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Boy from Albania is fingerprinted upon arrival.  &lt;/span&gt;It showed a small boy from Albania that was in a line to become fingerprinted. He had just arrived from Albania and he had a scared and sad look on his face. I think that the look on his face made me want to write about it. I cannot imagine how it would be to leave your home and come to a foreign country that would be you new home. There were many quotes on the walls that were said by immagrants but I liked one more than the others. This quote was by Tamara Farnik from Poland. It said: " America had anything we need: technology, goods. At least one person from every nation lives here. People immagrate to America because they know it's the land of freedom and a better life. I see Americas as a land of oppurtunities." I chose this quote because I thought that it was very thruthful. I do belive that Ameica is the land of opputunity and I think that is the main reason why there are so many immagrants. I also read a essay by a man from the phillipenes. The essay was called Home of the Brave and it was about a boy that left his homeland because of the struggles that his family had. The essay said that leaving the country is hard but sometimes it is not a want but a need. It was a long and hard journey emotionally and phisically. When the author first came to America his first friends were immagrants as well which I though was very cool.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5454027240472093875-1278641617596209908?l=katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1278641617596209908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5454027240472093875&amp;postID=1278641617596209908' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/1278641617596209908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/1278641617596209908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/2009/02/field-trip-reflection.html' title='Liberty Station Field Trip Reflection'/><author><name>kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14906495355066975490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454027240472093875.post-7763933787443015656</id><published>2009-02-14T14:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T19:15:56.642-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello, America- Lit circle meeting 1</title><content type='html'>-Quote #1: "The turbulent ocean with its infinite majesty is behind us,spanning the abyss between our past and our future.&lt;br /&gt;Significance: Elli is reflecting on her journey during this quote. This quote seems meaningful because it is basically saying that Elli is going away from her home,where she grew up but she is going to a better life. The second part of the quote seemed more meaningful. In all immigrant stories the immigrants come to America for a promise of something.&lt;br /&gt;- Character Judgment: In this quote Elli reveals many things about herself. Her life back in Europe had been really hard and she wanted to escape form the hardships that she had faced. Thinking that the best place to escape was America, Elli fleed from her home and came to start a new life.&lt;br /&gt;Question: Why do you think that she described her journey in this way?&lt;br /&gt;( The next quote is from the same page but I thought that both of these quotes played a important part in the book)&lt;br /&gt;- Quote #2:  Between homelessness in Europe and the promise of a home in America."&lt;br /&gt;         - Ch.1, Pg.1&lt;br /&gt;- Significance: The significance of this quote to me seems to be the reason why so many immigrants come to America. The part of this sentence that really stood out to me was the promise of a home in America. So many people want to go away from there problems whatever they may be and moving is usually the best way to do so. I think that, that is the real reason why so many people move to America same as the author Livia Jackson.&lt;br /&gt;-Connection: I can connect to this quote because when I think of America I think of a place where everyone can have a home. Though it is not always true that is what people think of America as. During my life after going to so many places I can really see the differences between America and other places.&lt;br /&gt;Question: How do you think you would feel to leave your home and go somewhere completely new? Would you fell scared?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5454027240472093875-7763933787443015656?l=katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7763933787443015656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5454027240472093875&amp;postID=7763933787443015656' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/7763933787443015656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/7763933787443015656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/2009/02/hello-america-lit-circle-meeting-1.html' title='Hello, America- Lit circle meeting 1'/><author><name>kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14906495355066975490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454027240472093875.post-5044936289092974551</id><published>2009-02-09T18:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T19:29:23.811-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Immigration</title><content type='html'>My basic definition of a immigrant is a person who leaves there home to go to another country to permanently live. Some characteristics that immigrants have is that they usually have different cultures as well as speak different languages. Some exceptions of this are like England, Ireland and Canada, other than those there are a variety of cultures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    I have many connections to immigration with my family. My dad is from Nicaragua and he immigrated here in 1979. He attended college in America though so he had been a long time. My father moved here because he believed that he would have many more opportunity in America than in Nicaragua. My ancestor were Irish as well on my mothers side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   I think that there are so many immigrants because of how America is. The saying "land of the free and the home of the brave" seems to play a big part in immigration. I think that people have a fixed idea that America is the land of opportunity and if they come here then they will have a better life. Here in America there are better jobs, more diversity,freedom of religion, politics, free education. Immigrants want these things so they come to live in America. They might also be facing such things as war of have droughts or other problems that can cause people to want to go somewhere else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    In San Diego the effect of immigration are very obvious. Since we live near the border of Mexico there is a large Hispanic community and various hispanic foods. Foods are one of the most obvious way to tell what cultures have come to America. There are Thai, Mexican, Ethiopian, French, Italian and many other resturants that were mostly all started by immagrants that might have wanted to make money off of it. There are many communitys in San Diego that have a large number of one ethinicity such as Little Italy. In Little Italy there are many italian resturants and italian people. In San Diego there are many languages spoken that can be easily heard every day. That is another way to tell the amount of immagrants that have come to America.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5454027240472093875-5044936289092974551?l=katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5044936289092974551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5454027240472093875&amp;postID=5044936289092974551' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/5044936289092974551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/5044936289092974551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/2009/02/immigration.html' title='Immigration'/><author><name>kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14906495355066975490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454027240472093875.post-273308389906334138</id><published>2008-12-04T19:03:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T08:44:01.897-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Odd Girl Speaks Out by Rachel Simmons - reviewed by Katherine Guerrero</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://images.barnesandnoble.com/images/13820000/13820277.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 185px; height: 279px;" src="http://images.barnesandnoble.com/images/13820000/13820277.JPG" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 200%;font-size:100%;" &gt;Odd Girl Speaks Out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="line-height: 200%; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;By Rachel Simmons&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"&gt;"I would go in the bathroom and cry in the stall for twenty minutes. It was like I was in a never ending nightmare. I was buried in a cold black hole where no one cared or understood." This is part of a story submitted by a girl about her middle school experience to the book &lt;i&gt;Odd Girl Speaks Out &lt;/i&gt;by Rachel Simmons. This is only a portion of and example of how girls treat each other in middle school according to the group of girls that submitted stories to Rachel Simmons in order for her to put together &lt;i&gt;Odd Girl Speaks Out. &lt;/i&gt;This is not the only book that Rachel Simmons has published but the sequel to an earlier installment &lt;i&gt;Odd Girl Out&lt;/i&gt;. &lt;i&gt;Odd Girl Out &lt;/i&gt;is about the "Hidden Aggression" that is in every girl and a inside look at what happens when it comes out. It is about girls facing various issues and having depression or other problems because of school.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;In books and movies they usually portray middle and high school to have all these problems and fight and be really serious. Words that usually come up with the subject of middle school are cliques, bullies, popularity and gossip. Girls all over the country face problems daily and problem like these and some do not know exactly how to deal with them and what they right and wrong decisions would be. Sometimes they let girls walk all over them and problems to start to control their life.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;In &lt;i&gt;Odd Girl Speaks Out &lt;/i&gt;you get to see what really happens in the school hallways and how serious and horribly girl treat their peers. Not everyone is mean to their peers and is like how the girls in the book are but some actually are.. They do not really get anything out of it but just the satisfaction that they feel better and make others feel worse about them. Some examples are when girls trust their friends and they somehow deceive them as well as being in cliques and excluding others. It is easy to see how the situations affected them and how it made them realize the truth as well as come out as a stronger person.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;       &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;I thought that the book was interesting but also a little scary. The book shows what really happens in school and while it is interesting to read it is also a little scary. It is scary because I did not know that the reality could be so harsh. I still wanted to keep on reading though because the stories were interesting and it was well written with a lot of feeling. Though I though it was interesting I did not think reading it was necessary for me because I have not bee n exposed to situations like the ones in the book. I would recommend the book to middle and high school girls that might be going through tough times and need help. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5454027240472093875-273308389906334138?l=katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/feeds/273308389906334138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5454027240472093875&amp;postID=273308389906334138' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/273308389906334138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/273308389906334138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/2008/12/odd-girl-speaks-out.html' title='Odd Girl Speaks Out by Rachel Simmons - reviewed by Katherine Guerrero'/><author><name>kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14906495355066975490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454027240472093875.post-3789083493781161375</id><published>2008-11-07T08:21:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T08:26:59.308-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chapter 13 Description</title><content type='html'>We had to write our own alternative ending to LOTF ( Lord of the Flies) and we got to decide what happened. Since the actual ending of the book was a cliff hanger we got to be creative with what we wrote. I decided to set my ending 20 years in the future and have two of the charecters meet again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5454027240472093875-3789083493781161375?l=katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3789083493781161375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5454027240472093875&amp;postID=3789083493781161375' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/3789083493781161375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/3789083493781161375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/2008/11/chapter-13-description.html' title='Chapter 13 Description'/><author><name>kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14906495355066975490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454027240472093875.post-4332988658663181979</id><published>2008-10-19T13:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T15:20:50.624-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Strange Acquaintances - Chapter 13</title><content type='html'>&lt;h2 class="date-header"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;nday, October 19, 2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;                &lt;!-- Begin .post --&gt;   &lt;div class="post"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a name="4332988658663181979"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;                &lt;h3 class="post-title"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;      Strange Acquaintances - Chapter 13        &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h3&gt;                 &lt;div class="post-body"&gt;     &lt;p&gt;       &lt;/p&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;          &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.5in; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Papyrus;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;20 Years later.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;    Percival Weemus Madison walked down the rain splattered street, balancing a umbrella on his palm. There was a scar from when he shattered a glass and a fragment broke into his skin. He could hear the rain falling on his umbrella and the silenced streets. He had a good day, after the meeting of his company. His company, which was called Madison Addresses specialized in the making of address signs. He had just received an order from a quaint little hotel to have 300 bronze plates with addresses engraved on them. That turned out to be a good profit more than 1,000 dollars and Percival was happy to accept the offer. He kept on walking down the dirty street and noticed something shining on the ground. Although there was no sun the thing exuded a light that shined bright. He leaned down and found that it was a silver dollar. This could barely be found at the moment because they had just started to process the new coin. He picked it up and put it in his wool jacket, in the pocket. He kept on walking down the street, nearing his house that he had bought over a year ago. Rubbing his hands together he looked forward and saw a figure kneeling down under a black blanket. Since Percival had such a good day he decided to do a good deed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;            “Excuse me sir?” Percival told the figure, automatically assuming that it was a man. The figure shifted and a head peeked out of the old wool blanket.&lt;br /&gt;          “What do you want?” The voice said gruffly. The man had not showered or bathed in quite a long time because his red hair was dark and his face had traces of dirt on it. A smell came from him, like the smell of garbage. His freckles were faded but still recognizable. Percival decided that he seemed familiar but could not gather from where.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;               “I picked up a silver dollar a few blocks down and I was wondering if you would like to have it. You seem like you could use it”, Percival said and proffered the coin out to the man. The man immediately jumped up and snatched the coin away. This fast motion frightened Percival so and he jumped up in surprise. As the man took the coin their two pairs of eyes met. There was something so familiar about him yet he could not remember what. He was probably someone he knew from his childhood, seeing that he erased all his childhood memories, at least the bad ones. But as he kept staring into those familiar eyes, memories came pouring into his head. He knew who this man was and how they had met. Percival bolted back and started running. He turned around and saw that the blanket the figure had been hidden under was gone as was the figure once known to Percival as Jack.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center; line-height: 200%;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;**********&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;    Another man, at the other side of town there was another figure walking toward his house. His hair was a dark brown and he had dark cold eyes, the eyes that had seen too much. He was exhausted as he came home from court, where he worked as the court clerk. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Today was a new case and there was a lot to type. One of the lawyers had a problem with the case and complained again and again so the man had to keep on writing and writing. He noticed the rain and lifted his arm above his head so that no rain would get on his hair. He saw another man come out of the door that he had come out of and to his surprise it was the bailiff. He was not sure of the mans name but he greeted him cheerfully. The man recognized him and told him to have a good day. The bailiff was still in uniform but did not look as menacing as he did in the court room. He shivered as a breeze picked up and knocked off his hat. He grabbed his hat and put it on his head and as he put it on his frayed leather wallet fell out of his pocket. He did not notice this until he put his hands in his pockets to warm himself up. He turned around and saw his wallet laying on the cobbled sidewalk and went to pick it up. As he did it opened and you could read his name which was Ralph and his date of birth. He kept on walking down the street and neared the corner that leaded to his home. He owned a quaint little cottage, on what looked like to be on the brim of woods. It was not to fancy but it was not broken down. He was not making too much money as a clerk but it was enough to get by. Ralph opened his door and found a letter shoved under the door and onto the floor. He picked it up and saw a name that he was sure that he had heard before. The name was Percival Madison and the letter was an invitation to meet him. It went like this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: 200%; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Dear Mr. Ralph&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: 200%; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The other day it came to my attention that you worked at the local court house. My cousin is a lawyer and said he saw you. I usually pick him up and we go out to dinner. Over dinner he pointed out you walking down the street. I recognized you from somewhere and for the past few days I have been racking my brain in order so I can remember from where. Yesterday I finally remembered and would like to meet up with you. You may have read my book I wrote, it was about a group of boys that became stranded on a island and many acts of evil happened. You may remember the truth Mr. Ralph and if you do I would like you to meet me downtown, in front of the Irish bar. We have many things to discuss. If you have no idea whatsoever about what I am talking about then you could throw this letter away. I hope to see you soon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: 200%; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Sincerely,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Percival Weemus Madison&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center; line-height: 200%;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center; line-height: 200%;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;*********&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;            &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; line-height: 200%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Percival stood on the side walk, facing O’Neill’s an Irish bar as he waited for Ralph. He did not know what prompted him to write such a letter but when his cousin mentioned Ralph he knew what needed to be done. He hoped that it was the right person though. He had so much to catch up on. A man walked up to him in a knit cap and looked around the talked to Percival.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;            “Hey Percival” said the man, now more obvious that it was Ralph. Percival turned around and said hello, politely.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He then asked how Ralph was and Ralph said he was doing fine. He looked like he had so many years ago but then again so different. He was begginging to get wrinkles and he loked like he had not sleep in a long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;            “Why don’t I treat you to a drink?” Percival suggested and Ralph agreed. Ralph smiled and then asked Percival were he was working.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;            “ You have your own company now do you?” Ralph said with a hint of surprise and then for some reason asked the question that had bothered them the most.&lt;br /&gt;          “Remember the island? I thought of that when you sent me that letter?” Ralph said and pointed Percival toward the bar door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;“Yes actually that was what I wanted to talk about” Percival replied and the two boys looked up at the sky at the same moment, looking at the sky that could be seen everywhere else, by all the boys that were on the island. This made them feel united and for now everything was at peace.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5454027240472093875-4332988658663181979?l=katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4332988658663181979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5454027240472093875&amp;postID=4332988658663181979' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/4332988658663181979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/4332988658663181979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/2008/10/strange-acquaintances-chapter-13.html' title='Strange Acquaintances - Chapter 13'/><author><name>kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14906495355066975490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454027240472093875.post-7916316143703144640</id><published>2008-10-07T17:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-07T20:26:43.801-07:00</updated><title type='text'>LOTF- Chapter 11 and 12</title><content type='html'>Things take a turn for the worse-much worse&lt;br /&gt;Ralph's Journal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The conditions on this island are becoming hard to live with. I mean we really really need a fire. We are freezing and shivering. Piggy is struggling to see and that is really making life harder. We have to lead him places and tap him when we talk to him and say our name so he knows who we are and not get too confused. After waking up I blow the conch to tell all the remaining boys to come for a meeting. There was only Piggy and SamandEric but we still held meetings. I told them what I had been thinking about for a while. I told them that we should go to Jacks group of savages and try to reason with them. They agree,Piggy especially that we should make things right. I think that Piggy just wants his glasses back so that he could see. He brings along the conch as we go towards Castle Rock. We walk slowly which is only to be expected because we had to lead and help Piggy so he did not get hurt.  When we came to Castle Rock we saw a few figures looming. We got closer and saw Roger standing guard with other boys. They each had sticks, probably because of us. Jack and some hunters come lugging a pig towards us. Jack sees me and his cheeks redden. He shouts at Roger and then looks at me. I tell him that we should work things out. he laughs and the other boys giggle. They grab SamandEric and tie them up, not caring about their protesting. We start arguing about everything,especially the fire and how important it was. Jack started getting defensive on his part and we started o really argue, there was a push and a shove ever so often. Piggy was saying that he had the conch and he should be speaking. He still had his morals and values to him and he wanted order, something that I had wanted for a long time. Roger must have noticed something and was whispering to the other boys. They faces were confused. Roger walked over to a lever and started pushing down with all his weight, he smiled like he was pulling a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;diddle&lt;/span&gt; on us. He pushed and a huge rock came tumbling in Piggys direction. I screamed for him to get out of the way. I could feel tears coming out of the way because I knew what was going to happen next. The rock rolled towards him and flattened him while kicking him off a cliff and he splattered on a rock.  I looked away but a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;cordon &lt;/span&gt;of frightened boys looked. I started kicking and shoving Jack and then I ran away. I was alone. Without Piggy or SamandEric, really and truly alone. I heard SamandEric protesting as I went far away.  I run into the dense jungle and think about all the things that has happened . I sit down and catch my breath. I look around me and see a skull with a stick pointing. I get mad for some reason and give it a good kick. I felt delirious and needed some water. Instead I went back to Jack's fort to see what was going on. I decided to sneak up on them so I would not be seen. I saw SamandEric and waved at them. They saw me and came over. They told me that that Jack with everyone were going to hunt out for me and Roger had a stick sharpened at both ends. i did not know what they meant but I took into consederation how dangerous the morrow would be. I told the twins that I would hide. They gave me meat because they noticed that I looked hungry. I was very very hungry and desperatly needed sleep. I ate it and then looked for adequete hiding places. I found a dense patch of vines and tall grass and squirmed in there. It would be very hard to find me. I went to sleep in  no time. I woke up to voices and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ululations&lt;/span&gt;. I hid down farther. I heard the twins shouting my location. They told! A hunter poked his spear into my hiding place and saw me. He shouted and soon I smelled smoke. They were setting it on fire! I came out and ran for my life. I decided to find a hiding place instead of just running. I found a dark, deep hole and scrambled in there. Maybe they would not see me and just run. II was to exhausted to do anything and could not fit in the hole. I stood up and ran towards the beach. My head thumped and i could hear my heart beating. My legs gave out on me. I raised my eyes because there was a shadow looming over me. It was a man with a uniform of &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;drill&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;epaulletes &lt;/span&gt;shining in the sun. He tells me that they saw the smoke and came here. They were on a boat and he was a naval officer. I stare at him wide eyed and then began sobbing. He said that he presumed that we were just having fun. Playing games of war. He asked jokingly how many boys died. I told him two. He stared at me in disbeief and saw other boys coming,sobbing. I started sobbing as well, unaware that we were being rescued.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5454027240472093875-7916316143703144640?l=katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7916316143703144640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5454027240472093875&amp;postID=7916316143703144640' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/7916316143703144640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/7916316143703144640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/2008/10/lotf-chapter-11-and-12.html' title='LOTF- Chapter 11 and 12'/><author><name>kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14906495355066975490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454027240472093875.post-5945000328291572098</id><published>2008-09-29T09:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-02T20:25:54.648-07:00</updated><title type='text'>LOTF - Chapter 9 and 10</title><content type='html'>Jacks Journal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am Leader!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally have accomplished what I have been wanting to do. I am the chief for most of the boys. That is good enough for me. Its okay if the fat boy and the "chief" Ralph is not in my group, my clan. They would have made it worse anyways, always complaining and hoping to be saved. I do not know why they think we will be saved anytime soon. We are in a middle of a island for someones sake. I mean come on. No one will be sailing around here. We might as well enjoy it while we can right? So most of the boys are on what can be called my side now. Except for Piggy of course and Ralph and Simon and about two other boys. We are eating meat, bloody bloody meat. The boys are enjoying it and it is quite cooked. Its a good thing that we stole the others fire or else we would be eating raw meat. After persuading so many of Ralph's followers to come to my group I felt much more fulfilled. The boys are beginning to get restless so I began to tell them to chant and dance. I &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;illuminated &lt;/span&gt;this idea to them and they really liked it. They gathered in a circle and like the group of crazed followers they were they started shouting with a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;barmy &lt;/span&gt;thought in there mind.&lt;br /&gt;" Cut his throat,spill his blood" they shouted out, increasingly becoming louder. A phosphorescence shone of the gleaming ocean and shown a light upon us, chanting and dancing in a circle. A little boy came in the middle and pretended to be the pig. The other boys pretended to hit him and kill him. The boy came out of the circle and then was replaced by a shadow. This shadow was of a thing coming from the trees. It had a billowing thing over its head and it was shouting. You could see its &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;corpulent &lt;/span&gt;body as it neared and came to the center of the circle.&lt;br /&gt;" The man, the man on the hill, he he" the figure said and then shouted. I told the boys to go for it, even though I knew who the figure was or what it was. I would never tell the boys though. The boys started kicking, biting,&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;purging&lt;/span&gt; and hurting the body in any way possible, just so it got hurt. After a while of beating it. it rolled from us and was left alone. The &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;phosphorescence&lt;/span&gt; and crispness of the air gave way, cooling all the boys off. They kept chanting into the night. The next day we all decided to get fire from Ralph. Only three people would go, me of course included. We crept towards their shelters and ambushed them, snatching piggys glasses. They were not aware of us until they heard noises. Then Ralph started kicking one of the twins! Leave it to him to do someting so stupid. We left as they were fighting, with their most prized possesion in our hands.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5454027240472093875-5945000328291572098?l=katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5945000328291572098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5454027240472093875&amp;postID=5945000328291572098' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/5945000328291572098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/5945000328291572098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/2008/09/lotf-chapter-9-and-10.html' title='LOTF - Chapter 9 and 10'/><author><name>kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14906495355066975490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454027240472093875.post-5429843196730091402</id><published>2008-09-27T20:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T20:21:04.764-07:00</updated><title type='text'>LOTF- Chapter 8</title><content type='html'>Simons Journal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fight for Power and Groups break off&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish that we could have been rescued by now. The tension that Jack and Ralph have is really stressing and making everyone else very mad and confused. I am very mad because they are supposed to sort of set a example for the littler ones and even for me and some of the older boys. Ralph is the chief or leader so he should handle it responsibly. It just frustrates me so.  Anyways, Ralph and Jack just announced that there is actually a beast. I am very scared and have stopped trembling. The littleuns are frightened so, some bawling there eyes out. I hope that nothing happens to us. I remind myself that some of these boys are &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;prefects&lt;/span&gt; or under the influence of some.the were totally with &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;demure&lt;/span&gt; and would protect us. Right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot believe Jack. He is quite selfish and not at all selfless. At the meeting today he actually... At the meeting today he stood up Ralph and said to his face that he should not be leader. That was very rude. He then asked the boys how many thought that he should be leader. His &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;demonic&lt;/span&gt; face curled into a amused smirk. But nobody said anything. Nobody raised there hands, and nobody did anything. Ralph looked around in shock and then asked another question. Whether they, we thought that Ralph should still be chief. I could feel for th eother boys becasue if they answered wrong then something bad would probably happen to them. So like the other boys I stayed silent. Jack started to rant about how Ralph was a coward and if anything happened he would run away and hide. The air around his emitted a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;taboo &lt;/span&gt;like whisper, warning those who wanted to come closer go away. Jack decided that he was fed up and left, saying that he would survive on his own. I was shocked yet somehow I expected it to happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He left and a few boys followed him. I did not want to get involved with their shenanagins so I decided to go to my hiding spot. I would wait a while first though. After waiting for what seemed to be a few hours I slowly crept of to my little hut or hiding place. I heard grunting sounds a long way away but did not pay attention to them. I finally reached the forset and carefully walked over vines to reach my sancturary. I got there and sat down. I was not very comfortable so I turned around. I screamed and shook in fear. There waas the head of a pig on a stick very close to me. I closed my eyes and hoped that the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;paunched&lt;/span&gt; pig would go away. It did not. I was sure that it was jack that did this but I did not want to blame anyone. Besides, I had no one to complain to. I stared at the pigs small round eyes and got hypnotized. It started talking to me and warning me. After a one man conversation I was frozen with shock and suddendly blacked out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5454027240472093875-5429843196730091402?l=katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5429843196730091402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5454027240472093875&amp;postID=5429843196730091402' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/5429843196730091402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/5429843196730091402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/2008/09/lotf-chapter-8.html' title='LOTF- Chapter 8'/><author><name>kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14906495355066975490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454027240472093875.post-5924081796166316507</id><published>2008-09-23T19:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T20:33:35.041-07:00</updated><title type='text'>LOTF - Chapter 6 and 7</title><content type='html'>The hunt of the beast&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Piggys journal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turn around from my comfortable sleeping position and suddenly hear the pitter patter of footsteps. I hear the muffled shouts as someone talks to someone else. I raise my body up slowly and decide to see what the situation is. I see Ralph and two boys. They look like Sam and Eric and they are breathing in fast heaving breaths. Ralph bolts up and says something to the boys. Next thing I know they are running around &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;mutinously&lt;/span&gt; shouting something about a meeting. Something big must have happened because Ralph has only called emergency meetings when something bad has happened. The last time he called a emergency meeting was when the ship came and stupid stupid Jack was hunting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack makes me so mad. He seems selfish and he is very mean. I cannot believe that he pushed me the other day and broke my glasses. I think that he has something against me, not only because the way I look. I think that he is jealous that Ralph likes me, I think, I hope. He seems to like me because he is talking to me more than he did before.  I hope that Jack does not get to caught up with his hunting because I think that he is going to start going crazy about it and not caring, like he does now. Not.  He just has so many things that arent good about him. The worst that he has done thought is letting out the fire. I still cannot believe that he let out the fire. I know that he thinks that it was a accident and that he did not know that there was a ship but the thought that he was not responsible at all was worse. Sam and Eric still call out for people to come out. I join the gathering crowd of half asleep boys. Ralph start telling people that there is a beast.&lt;br /&gt;" You guys, there is a beast and SamandEric saw it with their own eyes. There is no time for play" he says and I begin to get scared.&lt;br /&gt;" Ya - there was a - beast" Sam and Eric both said toghether, switching between syllables.&lt;br /&gt;" You see there is a beast, we need to do something about this." Ralph says.&lt;br /&gt;" The beast could be anywhere, we need to look for it. I will find it. It is probably at the rocks, where I have no gone." Says Jack, boasting.&lt;br /&gt;" Good idea. We will go tommorow morning to hunt the beast. Go back to sleep."&lt;br /&gt;" Wait, I do not believe that it is real." Simon says in a quiet, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;diffedent&lt;/span&gt; voice. No one paid attention to him except for me. I am not sure what I believ yet. I will have to find out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boys set out in the morning. This group included Ralph, Jack, Simon, Roger and a few other boys. I &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;sagely&lt;/span&gt; decided to stay back in case something happened. The truth was that I was scared. I tell them &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;imperviously&lt;/span&gt; good luck but they do not listen. They start walking forward with a certain &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;bravado&lt;/span&gt; waiting to face this beast. I stay back and watch the little ones doing nothing. After many many hours there is a outline in the horizon. I hope that nothing went wrong.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5454027240472093875-5924081796166316507?l=katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5924081796166316507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5454027240472093875&amp;postID=5924081796166316507' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/5924081796166316507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/5924081796166316507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/2008/09/lotf-chapter-6-and-7.html' title='LOTF - Chapter 6 and 7'/><author><name>kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14906495355066975490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454027240472093875.post-5377481008213332152</id><published>2008-09-21T17:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T20:03:54.773-07:00</updated><title type='text'>LOTF - Chapter 5</title><content type='html'>Ralphs journal - Meeting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A walk slowly down the beach. Sand scrunching up in between the small crevices of my toes. I use this time to think. Think of what is happening to us. What we are becoming. We are becoming savages and animals. We are not capable of holding respect towards each other. We are not living up to the rules our parents set up such a long time ago.I keep on walking down the beach and think about what I should cover during the meeting. I know that I should talk about the fire, but I want to save that for last, because that was one of the more serious matters. I think that I also would include something about the water. I look ahead and in the horizon I see the outlines of many boys.&lt;br /&gt;There are many skinny boys but one fat boy. Piggy. I start thinking about him and his rambling. I realize something. It was a&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; ludicrous&lt;/span&gt; thought but a thought all the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Piggy had ideas. Great ones. Ones that we could use for our benefit. He told me something about a time device, and I have lately been wanting to know the time. I wish that I could use his ideas but I cannot. I feel bad about it because the reason that I cant use his ideas is because no one listens to him or communicates with him. If they did maybe the situation would improve but lately everyone has been ignoring him and whatever he does or says. I looked up and saw that I was very near to the other boys. I cleared my throat and stepped up to the platform. I look out to a crowd of boys, big and small. Some looked at me &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;mockingly&lt;/span&gt;, namely Jack and other looked at me with &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;decorum&lt;/span&gt;. I start talking.&lt;br /&gt;" We are falling apart as a society, we need to work together and complete things that we say we will. We need to have shelters. What if it rains. Then what? We will be soaked and with no shelter. The only way that we will build shelter is if we all help." I kept a discursive speech and covered many topics. I talked about the water, the "restrooms" and of course the fire. This took the longest and was hard for me. I saw boys looking &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;tempestuously&lt;/span&gt; around. They looked uncomfortable and I recognized them to be some of the hunters.&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Then I start talking about this monster that everyone seems to be afraid of. I tell them that it is not real, but a illusion in their minds, only a thought and not a reality. They started protesting. A little one shouts out that he had seen the beast. It suddenly became quiet. I walk towards him and I ask his name. He tells me. Then he tells me about the beast. We all listen in fascination. Jack suddenly stands up and says in a bold vice that the hunters would kill the beast. I know that they are just saying that but I admire them a little for standing up for what they thought was right. They talk about it and I sneak away to Piggy and Simon. I tell then something that I had thought for a while. I tell them that I do not know if I should be leader. Because the truth is, I know I should not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5454027240472093875-5377481008213332152?l=katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5377481008213332152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5454027240472093875&amp;postID=5377481008213332152' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/5377481008213332152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/5377481008213332152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/2008/09/lotf-chapter-5.html' title='LOTF - Chapter 5'/><author><name>kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14906495355066975490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454027240472093875.post-5126733893978014647</id><published>2008-09-17T19:51:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T20:58:45.206-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lord of the Flies- Chapter 3 and 4</title><content type='html'>Many things happen                                                 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jacks journal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is so aggravating when you want something but for some reason you cant have it. Thats how I feel right now. I need to catch the pig, the thought has been pulling at me for many days now and I want to get rid the feeling. My weapon, a spear, although it does not look like one, is starting to feel heavy in my hands. It feels like a weight that is dragging me down. I am determined to kill the pig. I want meat! This was my last attempt, I was beggining to feel tired and hungry. I chase after the light footprints in the dirt, illustrating the path that my prey went through. I now see the pig, I am my spear. It soars through the air, and almost hits the pig. The pig saw it before the spear catches him and the pig runs of squealing, darting through the  thick tangle of vines. The&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; compulsion&lt;/span&gt; that held me darted all out. I ran toward my spear, picked it up and started running, I did not notice the large branch in front of me and while i ran, I stumbgled and landed smack on my face. It hurt a lot and I still feel the pain. I walk a little and look down to see Ralph and Simon trying to put up huts. Their effort is pityful, becasue they only put up two and a half huts so far. I walk down there. Ralph looks at me then looks away. I am getting very tired of him. Sure, the boys elected him chief and like him but that does not mean that i had to like him, right? Simon looked &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;rapt &lt;/span&gt;as he put the hut upright and did not notice that I was there.  Ralph turned back at me and aked me why i could not work on the huts with him. I told him, a hint of rage at my voice that we needed meat. How dare he imply that I was not doing any work. I had been slaving for hours trying to catch something and now he gets mad at me? His  was annoying and I would not take it anymore. I wont write the whole conversation but he and I just kept beickering. He thought that he was right but of course he was not. I was not all the way right either but at least I did not lie. He glared at me &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;malevontley &lt;/span&gt;and once again turned away. We felt a tension between us that was spreading us apart. We were not friends to begin with but now we were disagreeing even more. I got a headache from all the arguing that Ralph and I had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wake up and still feel the throbbing headache I wish a had some &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;balm&lt;/span&gt; or something to make the pain decrease. I did not pay attention to the throbbing headache. I looked around and saw no one close. I started talking to myself, a little pep talk.&lt;br /&gt;" Jack, todays the day, just get up and hunt and kill that pig. Get some of the littleuns to help you. Maybe SamandEric."&lt;br /&gt;I stopped talking to myself and slowly trudged up. I strech my arms above my head and notice the &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;swarthiness &lt;/span&gt;settled to my skin. I guess that a long time on a island made you dark. I walk along the water and then walk towards a stream. From some sudden reaction I start mixing dirt and water together to make some sort of clay. I get this great idea of making masks or disguises.&lt;br /&gt;I plaster the mud on my face but then wipe it off. I see SamandEric standing in front of me. They are part of the choir back home in England. I remember them being inseprable and obviously they still are. They are stuck by each others side, like two peas in a pod. They talk at the same time, say the same things and seem to have the same feelings. The smile at the same time and cry at the same time. Right now they were looking at me and smiling.&lt;br /&gt;"Ello Jack" They say at the same time. They look over at each other with a wicked expression. I find it uncomfortable and a little bit annoying. I have been finding a lot of things annoying, being around the same boysa ll the time and pretty much living with them.&lt;br /&gt;"What are you doing" They ask with curiosity plastered on their faces.I am not sure wheter to tell the or not but they look so eager and I really do not have much to lose.&lt;br /&gt;" I am going to kill the pig" I say, proudly. They snicker and then look at me.&lt;br /&gt;" Really, Jack. You are never going to kill the pig. You keep saying that you will but you never do. You need a bigger group. We will help. Maybe" They say and than talk to each other,look at me and nod yes. I smile and tell them to gather the other hunters at their post at the fire. They come in about ten minutes standing at the stream, ready for "battle". I fill them in with the plans and we soon set off. The clay I made was on our faces. We discuss battle tactics and decide to circle the pig. When we find it I jump out and others do too. We close quickly in a tuight circle and i stab the pig, it injures him. I smile and cut his throat. Blood comes seeping out and we cheer. I do smile as wide as possible and the other boys do too. As we come back to the beach I see a strange sight. Ralph was waving and jumping up and down. He sees us and runs over, a look of madness on his face.&lt;br /&gt;" You let the fire out" He sputters.&lt;br /&gt;" So? it can come back" I say, relaxed.&lt;br /&gt;" You let the fire out"  I hear his tone of voice and sense that something went wrong.&lt;br /&gt;" There was a ship, a ship . We could have been rescued! You let the fire out. Now the ship is gone. GONE!" He screams and almost breaks down. I apologize and show him the pig,but he does not care and walks away,calling a emergency meeting. I know what I did was wrong and now that is dragging me down. But what could I do?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5454027240472093875-5126733893978014647?l=katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5126733893978014647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5454027240472093875&amp;postID=5126733893978014647' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/5126733893978014647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/5126733893978014647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/2008/09/lord-of-flies-chapter-3-and-4.html' title='Lord of the Flies- Chapter 3 and 4'/><author><name>kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14906495355066975490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454027240472093875.post-1041985898395709948</id><published>2008-09-13T15:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T20:06:51.975-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chapter two: Fire!</title><content type='html'>&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CGUSTAV%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C02%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="country-region"&gt;&lt;/o:smarttagtype&gt;&lt;o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="place"&gt;&lt;/o:smarttagtype&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if !mso]&gt;&lt;object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"&gt;&lt;/object&gt; &lt;style&gt; st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0in; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:8.5in 11.0in; 	margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; 	mso-header-margin:.5in; 	mso-footer-margin:.5in; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0in; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Simon's Journal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stand at the edge of the circle, as I always do. A shadow hidden in the corner while &lt;b&gt;ebullience &lt;/b&gt;surrounds me. The chief boy, Ralph is standing up in front of everyone and thinking. He starts stating something about a conch. I realize that he is talking about the conch that was used as a sort of horn. He is saying that whoever is in possession of the conch has the right to speak. I partially agree with the boy, seeing that it would be the fair way. After a while the fat boy stood and starts yelling. He is saying that we crashed to a island and that no one knows that we are here and we could be staying here for a long time. No one was paying attention to the fat boy, named Piggy. I seldom did either but when he mentioned the fact that no one knew we were here I realized the truth. We were stuck here for a long time, we could be anywhere. We were not by &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;England&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; at all, seeing that &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;England&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; is a place that does not have tropical islands surrounding it. We must have been half way to the states at least. I start to remember a geography lesson that we took. The &lt;b&gt;martyed &lt;/b&gt;teacher, who obviously wanted desperately to leave was telling us about how there were islands in the middle of the ocean as well in places close to other country's. I think that we are on a island in the middle of the ocean because we only see the vast ocean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the fat boy stopped yelling a small boy starts to talk. The boy looked quite peculiar, because he had a big birth mark across his face. It was mulberry colored and was the first thing to draw the eye as you looked at the boy. He looked scared and was tapping his foot.&lt;br /&gt;" I saw it, I saw it. It was a beastie in the woods and its coming" He said, tears coming out. "Its coming, its coming. I saw it last night".&lt;br /&gt;All the boys looked at each other and then down at the boy. I was one of them and I was thinking the same as the other boys. It was just a nightmare, like all little boys had. The boy was convinced that the beastie would come out and tried to &lt;b&gt;induce &lt;/b&gt;the other boys to think that as well. After a while Ralph decided that if anyone wanted to look for us then they would have to see a signal that someone was there. As a group the decided signal was a fire. Ralph said that the mountain would be the best place for the fire because it was high up and smoke would be visible. We all agreed to that and the making of the fire began. We all started to climb up the mountain, Ralph in front and the others following. The smaller boys were &lt;b&gt;capering&lt;/b&gt; as we walked the older boys looking ahead. As we reach a flat place Ralph turned around and announced that this would be were we would build the fire. All at once boys started rushing to trees and the ground, trying to find wood that was able to make a fire. I stand there and watch them. I turn to Ralph, who looks at me then away. I get the message. I slowly start to walk down to where the other boys are. I stand with the other boys, &lt;b&gt;errant&lt;/b&gt; to Ralph. I stand there for a while and then decide to join in. We look for branches that could burn, some boys &lt;b&gt;officious&lt;/b&gt; while showing Ralph the branches.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;After piling the branches up in a big pile Ralph thinks out loud what he should use to start the fire. He looks at Piggy, looks away and looks back. He jumps ahead and snatches his glasses. As Piggy protests, Ralph gets to work. I stifle a laugh as I see Piggy jumping up and down. Ralph aims the glasses at the stack of wood and soon a sliver of smoke rises up. All the boys watch it and start to cheer. I find myself cheering as well; this could be a step to getting saved. We dance around the fire and suddenly stop. There was no more smoke, it was gone. The fire died out so soon. Ralph took Piggy’s glasses once again and repeats the process of lighting the fire. In a frenzied hurry boys are gathering more wood and hoping for a fire. I am with them, hoping to make the fire come alive again and dance with us. The fire does come alive and it is reaching for the trees above it. It is very big. I find myself smiling, my cheeks hurting. Then the smile fades, the trees were now on fire, and the flames were leaping from tree to tree. I look around in astonishment and notice the boy with the birth mark looking at the fire, mesmerized. I back up as the fire grows larger, a monster on the loose. We all huddle in a tight circle.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;“The boy, the boy, with the birthmark”, Piggy’s says. “ He’s gone, no where to be found.” We all suddenly realize the truth and look at the fire.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5454027240472093875-1041985898395709948?l=katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1041985898395709948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5454027240472093875&amp;postID=1041985898395709948' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/1041985898395709948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/1041985898395709948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/2008/09/chapter-two-fire.html' title='Chapter two: Fire!'/><author><name>kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14906495355066975490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5454027240472093875.post-2406598103874945135</id><published>2008-09-09T15:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T20:40:55.491-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lord of the Flies</title><content type='html'>&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"&gt;&lt;meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 11"&gt;&lt;link rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5CGUSTAV%7E1%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtml1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"&gt;&lt;o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="country-region"&gt;&lt;/o:smarttagtype&gt;&lt;o:smarttagtype namespaceuri="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" name="place"&gt;&lt;/o:smarttagtype&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:worddocument&gt;   &lt;w:view&gt;Normal&lt;/w:View&gt;   &lt;w:zoom&gt;0&lt;/w:Zoom&gt;   &lt;w:punctuationkerning/&gt;   &lt;w:validateagainstschemas/&gt;   &lt;w:saveifxmlinvalid&gt;false&lt;/w:SaveIfXMLInvalid&gt;   &lt;w:ignoremixedcontent&gt;false&lt;/w:IgnoreMixedContent&gt;   &lt;w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext&gt;false&lt;/w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText&gt;   &lt;w:compatibility&gt;    &lt;w:breakwrappedtables/&gt;    &lt;w:snaptogridincell/&gt;    &lt;w:wraptextwithpunct/&gt;    &lt;w:useasianbreakrules/&gt;    &lt;w:dontgrowautofit/&gt;   &lt;/w:Compatibility&gt;   &lt;w:browserlevel&gt;MicrosoftInternetExplorer4&lt;/w:BrowserLevel&gt;  &lt;/w:WordDocument&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"&gt;  &lt;/w:LatentStyles&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if !mso]&gt;&lt;object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"&gt;&lt;/object&gt; &lt;style&gt; st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;style&gt; &lt;!--  /* Style Definitions */  p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal 	{mso-style-parent:""; 	margin:0in; 	margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:12.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} @page Section1 	{size:8.5in 11.0in; 	margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; 	mso-header-margin:.5in; 	mso-footer-margin:.5in; 	mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 	{page:Section1;} --&gt; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 10]&gt; &lt;style&gt;  /* Style Definitions */  table.MsoNormalTable 	{mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; 	mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; 	mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; 	mso-style-noshow:yes; 	mso-style-parent:""; 	mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; 	mso-para-margin:0in; 	mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; 	mso-pagination:widow-orphan; 	font-size:10.0pt; 	font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-ansi-language:#0400; 	mso-fareast-language:#0400; 	mso-bidi-language:#0400;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Chapter 1- There are others!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Piggys Journal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I trudge along the sand on the beach and see something. It moves. I run over and find a boy that looks my age. I wonder if he got here because of the plane. I am breathing short shallow breaths because of my asthma. The boy gives me a once over and stares at me in a &lt;b&gt;incredulous&lt;/b&gt; expression. I look at him and greet him.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;"Hi" I exclaim. He looks at me again. He mumbles something and turns away. He does not take my &lt;strong&gt;proffer &lt;/strong&gt;of a greeting, and starts to slowly walk away.&lt;br /&gt;"Wait!" I call. He turns back and slowly walks to me.&lt;br /&gt;" Do you reckon that there's anyone else on this island?"&lt;br /&gt;" I don't know" He says his eyes shifting downwards. I take my glasses and wipe them against my shirt. A awkward silence has shifted between us. He start asking me questions about myself and I obediently answer them. I finally ask him a question that has been bothering me from the very start.&lt;br /&gt;" Are we going to get rescued?" I ask shyly. The boys face turns red and his eyes shift from side to side. His &lt;b&gt;tow&lt;/b&gt; colored hair blows into his face as a breeze suddenly comes. He says that his dad is in the navy and will rescue him. The boy seems very selfish and rude. He asks my name and I whisper to him whatI tell him my nickname and he starts laughing. It's not funny but I smile so he does not think that I am hurt by his laughing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We exchange a few words and get to know each other, even thought it felt very distant, like there was a wall between us. We walked down to the water of a lagoon together but then he breaks of and walks faster. I don't know if he has a problem or anything. When I catch up to him I look down at the water. I see something shiny reflecting. There seemed to be a &lt;b&gt;glamour &lt;/b&gt;surrounding it. As I peer closer I see that it is a conch. I tell the boy, who said his name was Ralph and he seems to examine it. I decide to try to grab it. As I do, I almost fall in the water but I steady myself. I decide to come back and try again later. We soon go in the water, with our clothes on a large rock. The beach was covered in &lt;b&gt;motifs&lt;/b&gt; of the rocks. The water is very warm unlike the water in &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;England&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;.  My glasses start to fog up and my chest feels a little heavy. My auntie told me not to be alarmed if that happened but suddenly I was. After relaxing in the water we go back and pick up the conch shell. Ralph blows in it. In a while little shapes come to us and we discover that there are others here. We had company now and someone else to talk rather than each other. After a while we see another group, now with many boys all with black capes with one tall boy that looks very bossy. They are all wearing &lt;b&gt;togs &lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;that looked like they belonged to a choral group. I remember being in a choir so I assumed that the tall boy was the&lt;b&gt; precentor&lt;/b&gt;, seeing that he was leading the group.&lt;/span&gt; All the boys decide to make a community and have a leader and fortunately Ralph won. Ralph, a small boy and the leader of the choir, name roger decide to go and explore the island. As they leave I follow them. Ralph notices me and tells me to go away. I do not want to. I keep following him until he turns around again and says that hey do not want me. I turn back and I am angry because I had a right to go along with them. After all I was there when Ralph found the conch shell. I gather up the rest of the boys and we get to know each others names. I pay attention although I keep wondering what Ralph is doing.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5454027240472093875-2406598103874945135?l=katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2406598103874945135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5454027240472093875&amp;postID=2406598103874945135' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/2406598103874945135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5454027240472093875/posts/default/2406598103874945135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katherines8thgradeblog.blogspot.com/2008/09/island-of-flies.html' title='Lord of the Flies'/><author><name>kat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14906495355066975490</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
