{"content":{"sharePage":{"page":0,"digests":[{"id":"34078880","dateCreated":"1297447944","smartDate":"Feb 11, 2011","userCreated":{"username":"ellagicacid","url":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/user\/view\/ellagicacid","imageUrl":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/user\/pic\/1343664898\/ellagicacid-lg.jpg"},"monitored":false,"locked":false,"links":{"self":"https:\/\/davidgarethw-books-b.wikispaces.com\/share\/view\/34078880"},"dateDigested":1531973939,"startDate":null,"sharedType":"discussion","title":"he Zoo","description":"The Zoo.
\n
\nWhen I was younger, going to the zoo was always a magical experience. There was nothing more exciting, more amusing than strolling about, feeling the bright sunlight on my face, insisting on visiting every cage, every enclosure. Back then, I was oblivious to the noise and smells. I only saw and felt. I saw the bright, stripy colours of the tiger and the soft pink of a lion's tongue as it yawned. I was utterly delighted by the bright yellow giraffes and the salmon-pink flamingos and beautifully, sharply contrasted fur coat of the zebras. I will never forget the cold, smooth glass underneath my tiny palms, my breath fogging up the image which I would constantly wipe away with my sleeves. My little fingers would curl their way around the metal bars and fences, sometimes leaving rust or dirt imprinted on them. My parents would stop at a stand and buy me and my siblings icecream. We would wander aimlessly, smiling and laughing loudly, feeling the sweet, colourful sugar on my tongue which was, at the time, the perfect contrast to the warm sun still shining brightly above us. My memory of the zoo back then is not too clear, just a sunny, sweet day of laughing and interesting, brightly coloured animals.
\n
\nYears later, I don't enjoy the zoo nearly as much as I did back then. I suppose when I was younger, I only saw animals and nothing else. Now I can focus on what I hear, and more than anything, smell. Every enclosure, a stench fills my nose and I wrinkle it. Unlike before, all my troubles cannot be fixed with just an icecream. I still love it, don\u2019t get me wrong, but the novelty has worn off. I had never seen any of these strange exotic animals in my life before but after going to the zoo a couple times, you get used to them. I have seen all of them before and the only joy I still get out of the trip is the lion enclosure. The only thing that will never wear off for me is watching the lions stretch lazily in the sun while tourists shout and rattle the fence, trying to provoke them into doing something interesting. I love watching the sunshine glinting on their golden fur, knowing exactly what it is to lie in the sun and not have a care in the world and I am reminded of my first ever trip to the zoo and the wonder and joy I felt.","replyPages":[{"page":0,"digests":[{"id":"34087942","body":"Thanks Ella,
\n
\nWebster","dateCreated":"1297456020","smartDate":"Feb 11, 2011","userCreated":{"username":"davidgarethw","url":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/user\/view\/davidgarethw","imageUrl":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/i\/user_none_lg.jpg"}}],"more":0}]},{"id":"34074158","dateCreated":"1297443554","smartDate":"Feb 11, 2011","userCreated":{"username":"marinacoccaro","url":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/user\/view\/marinacoccaro","imageUrl":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/i\/user_none_lg.jpg"},"monitored":false,"locked":false,"links":{"self":"https:\/\/davidgarethw-books-b.wikispaces.com\/share\/view\/34074158"},"dateDigested":1531973939,"startDate":null,"sharedType":"discussion","title":"My farm","description":"When I start glancing through my memories to remember my past, very strong images from my childhood come to my head. All of them have a great meaning to me, I guess, otherwise I wouldn\u2019t have kept them in my brain and waste the little space they are locked in with other events that have taken place during my years of existence. But absolutely nothing rings more vividly in my head than the memories I have from my old farm. All my vacations as a child were pretty much the same; started at the beach and ended with weeks at my grandparent\u2019s farm. It was 3 hours of trip, but I really didn\u2019t seem to mind. Once I stepped out of the car, listened to the choir of all the different animals we raised there and felt the fresh breeze from the countryside hit my face and mess with my blonde curls, I was aware that I was probably the luckiest little girl in the entire world. The magic only began when I stepped inside the kitchen though. I used to think of the cook as a magician, not a cook that had to unfortunately use crutches due to some problems she had on her legs. I am pretty sure that never in my whole entire life I will meet such an amazing woman that possesses one of the greatest gifts ever; know how to cook splendidly. She could make any type of meal, and all of them would melt in your mouth like a full spoon of butter. The chocolate cakes, the rice and beans, the meat, the pies, the cookies, the broccolis (yes, even the broccolis), and other types of Brazilian typical food tasted like a piece of heaven on earth when cooked by her. She brought life and vivacity to the whole house, and was definitely the spirit of the farm, or at least for me.
\n
\nThe farm was built in the late 1800\u2019s, so the house was colonial and represented Brazil in its years of glory, where its coffee was known and wanted worldwide. It was a huge house, and seemed like a labyrinth to the visitors, which constantly got lost when inside. Since it was a tall building, the rays of sun were constantly hitting on the light yellow walls and bringing warmth to all of those that sat on the porch to read a book or just delight their selves with a garden that resembled a fairy tale one. My cousins and I would walk up early in the morning with the smell of fresh dew and run directly to the orchard to climb trees and catch oranges, lemons and grapefruits. Since the orchard was right next to the place workers tamed horses, we sat on the fences and admired the beauty of those animals while making weird faces due to the acidic taste of the fruits. The first time I did horseback riding was there, the first time I rid a bike took place there, and my first picnic on the mountains was also there as well.
\n
\nOver the years, the farm started to prejudice my whole family; it was too expensive to be maintained and the annual money we got from the coffee was not as good as before. Some relatives created huge fights, and that proved that it as about time to sell it. I suddenly started to look at my farm in a different way, as if it was more about business, not pleasure. My father would constantly complain about all the problems it brought to us, and I couldn\u2019t help not to listen to it. It appeared as if all of its magic had faded away, and its true self was being revealed little by little. As much as I would like to say that selling it was the right thing to do, the memories of my vacations I spent there seem to keep tormenting me everyday. Even though I have grown, and eventually fully understood the need to sell the farm, a part of my head is still of the one of a little girl\u00b4s, which cant wait for its next vacations to come.","replyPages":[{"page":0,"digests":[{"id":"34078878","body":"Good Marina,
\n
\nThanks,
\n
\nWebster","dateCreated":"1297447943","smartDate":"Feb 11, 2011","userCreated":{"username":"davidgarethw","url":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/user\/view\/davidgarethw","imageUrl":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/i\/user_none_lg.jpg"}}],"more":0}]},{"id":"34067216","dateCreated":"1297438211","smartDate":"Feb 11, 2011","userCreated":{"username":"cecyrodriguez","url":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/user\/view\/cecyrodriguez","imageUrl":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/i\/user_none_lg.jpg"},"monitored":false,"locked":false,"links":{"self":"https:\/\/davidgarethw-books-b.wikispaces.com\/share\/view\/34067216"},"dateDigested":1531973939,"startDate":null,"sharedType":"discussion","title":"pianoooooooooooooo","description":"
\nGrowing up has helped me realize that when your parents encourage you to do something, it\u2019s probably because it will benefit you in the future. When I was small I used to believe that playing the piano was a waste of time and my parent\u2019s way of torturing me. I could be playing out in the warm sun or maybe watching one of my favorite Disney movies or even playing with my toys, instead of sitting down in a lame, wooden chair, attempting to reach my short arms to touch the glassy, white, cold-hearted keys and make sounds, with the attempt of making music. As I grew older, my piano instructors got stricter and more difficult for me to follow. I could sense when my mom would come and ask me to practice, so to avoid hearing those words come from her annoying voice, I willingly did it. I remember my great-grandmothers piano come to life. Lightly pressing down the right keys felt as if sparkles of light sprang into the air and the room would suddenly be illuminated. It never lasted long enough, because no matter how hard I tried, I always made mistakes, because my clumsy hands would trip into the wrong keys. The magic would then fade away. Even if it was there for one moment, it didn\u2019t last long enough to convince me that it was worth keep trying. It was almost impossible to not get frustrated with myself.
\nWhen I was ten years old I dared to ask my mother if I could quit playing the piano. Actually quit forever. My mom thought about it and then made a choice that to this day I\u2019m grateful she did. She said no. She never told me why, but as I grew older the answer came along by itself. It really hit me when two years later my parents decided to sell my great-grandmothers piano. Its life had pleased many but now had come to an end. Even if we were selling it to someone close, I felt horrible. I didn\u2019t understand how an object could make me feel so empty after losing it.
\nI kept on playing throughout the years and this time, the magic started to linger a little bit longer every time. I felt powerful knowing that the beautiful music being triggered by the sometimes-thin, sometimes-thick strings of the piano was being created by me. I gave myself to improve. The wooden chair was no longer to hate, but to love for being a tool of support. Understanding that music is a great source for inspiration was the next thing that drove me crazy, and even more eager to play the now warm, welcoming keys eager to be touched and combined with. My new piano is a sleek, glossy black YAMAHA and it compliments my minimalistic looking house. My parents were the ones who opened this path, even when at the beginning I didn\u2019t want to be part of it. I am deeply grateful now, because music is a great part of my life, and being able to create it, just about does it.","replyPages":[{"page":0,"digests":[{"id":"34078798","body":"Thanks Cecilia,
\n
\nWebster","dateCreated":"1297447867","smartDate":"Feb 11, 2011","userCreated":{"username":"davidgarethw","url":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/user\/view\/davidgarethw","imageUrl":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/i\/user_none_lg.jpg"}}],"more":0}]},{"id":"34051988","dateCreated":"1297405634","smartDate":"Feb 10, 2011","userCreated":{"username":"luisuarez","url":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/user\/view\/luisuarez","imageUrl":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/user\/pic\/1302804674\/luisuarez-lg.jpg"},"monitored":false,"locked":false,"links":{"self":"https:\/\/davidgarethw-books-b.wikispaces.com\/share\/view\/34051988"},"dateDigested":1531973940,"startDate":null,"sharedType":"discussion","title":"Music (drumming)","description":" Drums. A passion beyond comparison. In the beginning, my drum set appeared to be a simple and static object. Every time I sat on the black-coated chair of the drums, I felt like there was no emotion, there was no feeling, it was just me against four drums and two cymbals. When I started playing, I saw practicing as a daily \u201croutine\u201d, seating in that chair was rather painful. Forcing my hands to do the right movements in the right time, coordinating... practicing at the beginning tortured me because it became a competition between me and the drum set; the drum set always won; I got bored and went to do something else. Playing drums at the beginning, appeared to be a hobby, because I did it whenever I wanted to,and whenever I felt like it. I didn\u2019t care if one day I didn\u2019t practice, I didn\u2019t care if I spent one week without practicing, and this because I had no \u201cdeep\u201d connection with my drum set. As time passed, my drum set started to get bigger. Soon, the old-rusty and typical set became more vivid, and it started to get a stronger tonality and better sound quality. Three years ago, my drum set wasn\u2019t as that important to me, and this because I didn\u2019t know how important music was in my life, and how I expressed my emotions and my feelings in it. Before, It didn\u2019t matter if anger, love, or passion passed through my heart, the sound was still the same as always. There was no intelligent connection between my feelings and what I actually played, and this as before, was mainly because of lack of \u201cconnection\u201d toward the drum set.
\n Three years later, or present day; my drum set is one of the most important things in my life. I couldn\u2019t live without it. It\u2019s like somehow I have become an addict to drumming, and there\u2019s no cure for this. Now, when I sit on that squeaky and old chair, I suddenly feel different than I did before, I feel a connection. This connection was created by the result of many hours and days of practice; it made me and my drum become \u201cone\u201d. We have \u201cunited\u201d, because since much time is dedicated, a deeper and more meaningful connection and confidence is created. There\u2019s a connection between me and my drum set that can\u2019t be explained nor seen. It can only be heard. Spending time practicing, is no longer a torture, but rather is an enrichment of the knowledge that I have acquired, and it\u2019s reinforcement to the passion I carry inside. Something that has clearly changed is that whenever I have a strong feeling in my heart, my drumming is influenced by it. For instance, when I feel anger, I will usually play something more aggressive, and this because it is me expressing my feelings. In the other hand, when If I feel in love, I tend to improvise and try to make grooves, with a strong feeling. In addition to this, lately the only thing played has been pure improvisation. My whole concept of drum changed in less than 4 years, and this because I have dedicated more time and power to it, the drums have become part of my life.","replyPages":[{"page":0,"digests":[{"id":"34078672","body":"Thanks Luis,
\n
\nWebster","dateCreated":"1297447740","smartDate":"Feb 11, 2011","userCreated":{"username":"davidgarethw","url":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/user\/view\/davidgarethw","imageUrl":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/i\/user_none_lg.jpg"}}],"more":0}]},{"id":"34051580","dateCreated":"1297404106","smartDate":"Feb 10, 2011","userCreated":{"username":"Josermq","url":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/user\/view\/Josermq","imageUrl":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/i\/user_none_lg.jpg"},"monitored":false,"locked":false,"links":{"self":"https:\/\/davidgarethw-books-b.wikispaces.com\/share\/view\/34051580"},"dateDigested":1531973940,"startDate":null,"sharedType":"discussion","title":"Potato Salad","description":"Jose R. Martinez
\n2\/10\/11
\nEnglish Response: Potato Salad
\n
\nPotato salad seemed to be an avalanche of pure mayonnaise, running through the mountains composed of potatoes. It\u2019s texture, was that of petroleum jelly; squishy, slimy, and stimulating a feeling of nausea. It\u2019s mushy, sand-like surface, was a rocky beach, as it is hit by never ending waves. Sparks invaded my hands as they made unfortunate contact with its dead sea of milk. It was as if my hands were clouds, being bombarded by the lighting of its coarseness. The mere sight of it was like boarding a freight train, and sitting on the driver\u2019s seat, while being slowly consumed by the odor of its fumes. This was a ride that would never end. I had no control over that odor; that pungent stench that would follow me everywhere, like a bad case of poison ivy. It\u2019s rancid, putrid aura sucked the life, like a leech, sucking the blood out of its prey. Milk falling on mayonnaise produced a sound equivalent to that of an atom bomb. Screeches were heard from the potatoes that were being drowned by these two despicable substances. The chatter of onions and eggs combining produced the same damaging effect that a jet engine would produce on your ears. Parsley, a gentle vegetable, was degenerated to a worthless leaf when fused with potatoes. Its bitter savor was that of vinegar, as it is combined with acrid, piercing lemons.
\n
\nThis was my first impression of a potato salad, and not a very good one at that. But then, my taste buds were enlightened by the complexity of its nature. It\u2019s magnificent combination of mayonnaise and milk, resembling the colors of the Mona Lisa, carefully chosen, and used to perfection. It was now definite: Potato Salad is the food of gods. No longer was its texture mushy and slimy, but silky and smooth like suede on a sweater, velvety and shiny. Whenever my hands make glorious interaction with its brilliant composition, light is created, just as it happens in stars. Like stars, potato salads have the ability to create life all around them. Its piercing odor was no longer pungent. Instead, its aroma was that of home on a tranquil Sunday morning. Its fragrance no longer followed me. Instead, I followed it like a lemur following its leader. The blending of its faultless recipe created a harmony of reverberations such as in Stairway to Heaven by Led Zeppelin. Its aura exerted a feeling of tranquility and coherence, as would be found in the Amazon Forest, away from the clash and thunder of modern civilization. Screeches were still heard. But, they were now made by those who could not enjoy the marvelous ambiance created by potato salads, which is like the animate atmosphere found at concerts all over the world. It\u2019s taste transformed into something new and innovative, just like Optimus Prime, as he transforms into a robot. The words potato salad used to create in me, a feeling of nausea. Now, it\u2019s glossy texture; it\u2019s harmonious echoes; it\u2019s brilliant taste; it\u2019s stunning appearance; and it\u2019s aromatic scent, inspire me, a feeling of well-being.","replyPages":[{"page":0,"digests":[{"id":"34078452","body":"Thanks Jose,
\n
\nWebster","dateCreated":"1297447515","smartDate":"Feb 11, 2011","userCreated":{"username":"davidgarethw","url":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/user\/view\/davidgarethw","imageUrl":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/i\/user_none_lg.jpg"}}],"more":0}]},{"id":"34050114","dateCreated":"1297400115","smartDate":"Feb 10, 2011","userCreated":{"username":"eli-picado","url":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/user\/view\/eli-picado","imageUrl":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/user\/pic\/1283475869\/eli-picado-lg.jpg"},"monitored":false,"locked":false,"links":{"self":"https:\/\/davidgarethw-books-b.wikispaces.com\/share\/view\/34050114"},"dateDigested":1531973940,"startDate":null,"sharedType":"discussion","title":"Olives? As Long As I Don\u00b4t Have to Smell Them","description":"Almost all memories I conserve from my childhood are blurry pictures of different events with questionable veracity. The first time I heard my dog bark, the first time I fell from my bike and even the taste of the weird, gloomy, green substance that the dentist made me bite on my first visit. However, there is this one memory I have clear and fresh on my mind: the first time I ate an olive. It was on my grandmother\u00b4s kitchen. The smell of homemade lasagna inundated the room, and I remember I was so hungry, that I could hear my stomach growling. I was on the table trying to draw the tree that was visible through the window, when my grandma started collecting the ingredients for the salad. One instant later, I heard the dull thud of a jar being opened. I felt curiosity and went over to look for the source of the sound. What I found? A stretched jar made of glass with green funny-looking pebbles on it. I asked my grandma about them. She answered that they were called olives and that they tasted delicious. \u201cEat one\u201d, she said, handing me the jar. The first thing I did was smell them. It was a bad idea. The jar radiated what I thought was the most disgusting scent I had ever smelled: salty, old and fishy. I felt my stomach twist, and suddenly felt sick. I told my grandma that I didn\u00b4t like them. \u201cWell, you haven\u00b4t try them yet. How are you supposed to like them without trying them? Eat one\u201d, she insisted. As na\u00efve as I was, I believed her and ate one. I thought that they not only smelt like a salty old fish, but that they tasted like one, too. I just couldn\u00b4t swallow that, and the flavor was killing the sensibility of my tongue. So, I spitted it out and swore I would never eat them again.
\nThe funny thing is that, some years after, when I had to eat olives again, I liked them. It was in a formal dinner, where the first plate they served was scattered with olives. I thought there was no problem because I could just leave the olives on a side of the plate. Well, my mom\u00b4s reprobative look proved me wrong. I was willing to sacrifice my stomach\u00b4s health just to be polite, but when I put the olive on my mouth, it didn\u00b4t taste as I expected. I don\u00b4t know what happened to change my perspective on olives, but I thought they had a unique flavor, like salty and sweet at the same time. I was surprised about liking them, so I decided to smell one. The smell wasn\u00b4t what I expected either. The scent was worse than I remembered: musty and stale. The sickness returned and I had to leave the table. That night I discovered that I love olives, as long as I don\u00b4t have to smell them.","replyPages":[{"page":0,"digests":[{"id":"34050188","body":"I\u00b4m sorry, Mr. Webster. The second paragraph starts when it says: "The funny thing..." I don\u00b4t know why it is not separated.","dateCreated":"1297400231","smartDate":"Feb 10, 2011","userCreated":{"username":"eli-picado","url":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/user\/view\/eli-picado","imageUrl":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/user\/pic\/1283475869\/eli-picado-lg.jpg"}},{"id":"34078416","body":"No worries Ella,
\n
\nWell-written,
\n
\nThanks,
\n
\nWebster","dateCreated":"1297447480","smartDate":"Feb 11, 2011","userCreated":{"username":"davidgarethw","url":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/user\/view\/davidgarethw","imageUrl":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/i\/user_none_lg.jpg"}},{"id":"34078838","body":"Sorry, I meant Elizabeth,
\n
\nWebster","dateCreated":"1297447899","smartDate":"Feb 11, 2011","userCreated":{"username":"davidgarethw","url":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/user\/view\/davidgarethw","imageUrl":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/i\/user_none_lg.jpg"}}],"more":0}]},{"id":"34045694","dateCreated":"1297394567","smartDate":"Feb 10, 2011","userCreated":{"username":"fabig1","url":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/user\/view\/fabig1","imageUrl":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/user\/pic\/1229012865\/fabig1-lg.jpg"},"monitored":false,"locked":false,"links":{"self":"https:\/\/davidgarethw-books-b.wikispaces.com\/share\/view\/34045694"},"dateDigested":1531973940,"startDate":null,"sharedType":"discussion","title":"Music","description":"Every time I opened my ears and started to pour in the music that was blasting away in my house, I found it hard to appreciate and fall in love with. My young maggot ears were not ready to send the correct signals to my brain connecting pleasure with sound. What I felt yesterday is not what I feel today, and so it was when I was a child, I could not put in my mind the true meaning of music and its every note. Since I lived my entire life with an older brother, constantly blasting his music like a rooster in the morning, my mind became an easy target for bad lyrics and trashy music. The constant vibration in my earlobe of those nasty words and nasty sounds made me think that music was like the fire in a forest, eating away at everything that it can destroy. The tingling sounds of guitars, drums, swear words made me think that music was just for one purpose, to annoy people. My brother also advice me not to listen to my father\u2019s music, because it was lame and I would not be as cool as everyone else, I would be the anomaly in a graph, no one would talk to me. I find this funny today because no one listened to music during those years as we were all children and I was the only one that actually knew swear words during my childhood.
\n
\nNow, today, music helps me in the daily life. It helps me concentrate and does not allow other emotions to take over, such as anger or sadness. Music has saved me several times. The sweet harmonies that come out of every instrument are as sweet as a lullaby when you were a baby. I now also ring the harmonious sounds of the saxophone by myself. It turns a bitter day into a sweet and happy one. My ears are flooded with happiness and make me forget anything wrong that went that day. The pressure of the stress of any day was gone with the melodic and sweet sound of any music that I could garrison in my ears. It was magic, music could make me pass an entire day in one song without even noticing. Every second of the day that I am able to sit down and listen to my saxophone, there is a pleasure tingling in my ears telling me, begging me for more. The way that I viewed music changed as fast as a champagne bottle top pops open. I didn\u2019t notice the change but it is there. From horrid and bitter to sweet and melodic, music has changed my life. It is not the cry of pain that I used to hear, it is the angels singing everyday that I engage my ears into the music, and remove anything that is worrying me or eating away at my consciousness, music is there to help, and he has done a great job in keeping my mind calm and at peace.","replyPages":[{"page":0,"digests":[{"id":"34078154","body":"Thanks Fabian,
\n
\nWebster","dateCreated":"1297447245","smartDate":"Feb 11, 2011","userCreated":{"username":"davidgarethw","url":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/user\/view\/davidgarethw","imageUrl":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/i\/user_none_lg.jpg"}}],"more":0}]},{"id":"34042058","dateCreated":"1297391124","smartDate":"Feb 10, 2011","userCreated":{"username":"alabuda","url":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/user\/view\/alabuda","imageUrl":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/i\/user_none_lg.jpg"},"monitored":false,"locked":false,"links":{"self":"https:\/\/davidgarethw-books-b.wikispaces.com\/share\/view\/34042058"},"dateDigested":1531973941,"startDate":null,"sharedType":"discussion","title":"Snowboarding","description":"The wind hitting my face seems icy cold and strong enough for the trees to bend under its command. The dark, spooky forest covered with layers of angelic white snow stroke fear into my small, inexperienced heart. The tall trees gave out an aura of mystery that my mind could not get comfortable to. When a little girl stars a new, dangerous sport noting can go right; the broken bones and typical failures were like a gun pressed upon my head and I was a prisoner waiting for my execution. The big, silky snowboard mocked me every time I tried to make an effort and finally succeed. The \u201cface\u201d of the board smiled at me with the sarcasm and satisfaction saying,\u201d You will never be good enough.\u201d I was willing to give it up; to take the board, break it in half and throw it against the old wall. The tears on my face would be mix of sadness and happiness like if the prisoner escaped the penalty of death but some part of him still missed the terrible feeling of waiting for the end. When I was 10 I didn\u2019t understand the whole concept of working hard for your success. As I grew up, however, some things changed drastically.
\n
\nWith time, snowboarding became my passion. The forest did not appear as if it was trying to kill me anymore. It is now peacefully looking at me, pushing a nice, slightly coldish breeze onto my face. The puffy snow greets me with a funny squeak every time I slide on it. The mountain treats me like if I was part of it, a welcomed visitor that stayed for a while. The slopes are little harmless heels and the darkness of the trees is a week shadow of its previous form. My board collaborates with me like we are one soul; one mind. It listens to my every order and it is there to support me when I fall. Competing is pure pleasure. The freedom breaks into my soul as I stand on the top of the mountain, not ready to stress, but to have fun. The fresh, icy air smells like the trees below me. The muscles are tight with excitement and adrenaline. My heart runs like a crazy pump, beating 200 times per second. The frustration, the fear, the panic disappears like if it was never there. The squeaky wind sounds like music in my ears as I strike through it. The wining is not my priority anymore. The prize plays the role of a reminder of all the electrifying moments that have happened. Now as I look back at my silly fears my face lights up and a smiles crawls onto my face; everyone has to grow up someday.","replyPages":[{"page":0,"digests":[{"id":"34077594","body":"Thanks Avi,
\n
\nWebster","dateCreated":"1297446792","smartDate":"Feb 11, 2011","userCreated":{"username":"davidgarethw","url":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/user\/view\/davidgarethw","imageUrl":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/i\/user_none_lg.jpg"}}],"more":0}]},{"id":"34040856","dateCreated":"1297390061","smartDate":"Feb 10, 2011","userCreated":{"username":"Jenny-37715","url":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/user\/view\/Jenny-37715","imageUrl":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/user\/pic\/1282875040\/Jenny-37715-lg.jpg"},"monitored":false,"locked":false,"links":{"self":"https:\/\/davidgarethw-books-b.wikispaces.com\/share\/view\/34040856"},"dateDigested":1531973941,"startDate":null,"sharedType":"discussion","title":"Bedtimeeee: From Horror to Heaven ","description":"The 3 year old girl sat beside it. She stared with wickedness at the big, brown, hard monster dressed in hot pink robes which stood out of her white room. She despised that structure in front of her. It was the thief that would rob her at night from the exhilarating, exciting moments of fun she could posses. She walked towards it and layed her hands on the cold, hard, lifeless mahogany wood, and felt a desire to break it with a swift movement of her hand. She pushed down on the soft, white mattress which recoiled with her force and heard the wood creak loudly as if telling her to come on in. She heard the ticking of the clock and alternated her eyes which were slits filled with a cold, furious stare to the door. Her mom walked in and in a voice so soft and sweet as honey said, \u201cit\u2019s 9 o clock dear, time to get into bed\u201d The words were chains tying her to the monster and tearing her way from the colorful and bright games, that layed on the ground. Slowly as a slope poke she walked, dragging her feet until she reached it. She took a deep breath and climbed onto the rectangle. She felt cold as her body touched it and she calmly layed across the white mattress, pulling the squishy blue pillow under her head. She tossed and turned like an electrocuted snake and thought, why did beds exist???
\n
\nYears Later, She entered her white room and looked at it. The happiness spread through her body, snapping each nerve back to life after such a tiresome day of 10th grade. She ran towards it as quickly as possible and jumped on to it in a split second. She felt the heavenly mattress mold her body as she snuggled deeper and deeper into the blue blanket, giving her warmth. She layed her head softly on the sack of feathers and breathed a long, heavy sigh of relief. She caressed the snowy mattress as if thanking it for being her nurturer and holding her in its arms till the sun would once again hit her face. The comfort of the big mahogany bed was her rewards for enduring yet another day, it was a treasure she would find and the end of the long journey. She felt thankful for her bed for it was the hero that saved her every night, releasing her from the stress of test, homework, equations, math, and essays. Her bed was her sanctuary in which she could forget about everything for a couple of hours and dream happy, beautiful, bright dreams. It gave her life so that each day she could wake up and face reality once again. She buried her face into her pillow and smelled her sweet daisy perfume which filled her head with sweet memories. She felt her body unwind and become loose like a jelly fish and heard her bones crack as if freeing themselves from the rigid binding of the tiresome day. As she wrapped herself in the greatest comfort, her eyes slowly closed.","replyPages":[{"page":0,"digests":[{"id":"34077324","body":"Thanks Jennifer,
\n
\nWebster","dateCreated":"1297446500","smartDate":"Feb 11, 2011","userCreated":{"username":"davidgarethw","url":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/user\/view\/davidgarethw","imageUrl":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/i\/user_none_lg.jpg"}}],"more":0}]},{"id":"34025408","dateCreated":"1297377817","smartDate":"Feb 10, 2011","userCreated":{"username":"lottej95","url":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/user\/view\/lottej95","imageUrl":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/i\/user_none_lg.jpg"},"monitored":false,"locked":false,"links":{"self":"https:\/\/davidgarethw-books-b.wikispaces.com\/share\/view\/34025408"},"dateDigested":1531973941,"startDate":null,"sharedType":"discussion","title":"lotte jansen wiki question 14","description":"As one grows older over the years, a handful of knowledge is obtained from the many learning experiences one goes through. I have also learned new things in life and sometimes start thinking differently of them as I grow more experienced. The elegance and entertainment of horseback-riding has been a part of my life for several, backbreaking years. However, I had long lost the strong desire to prove myself to others and that I can endure the hardships while at the same time ameliorating the graceful and exhilarating skill of show jumping. I remember sitting on a rusty, metal bench on the sidelines, watching the professionals\u2019 faces enliven with extraordinary glee beaming off of their faces. Controlling their feral horses seemed as easy as cracking an egg into a sizzling frying pan. They moved incredibly graceful as they swished passed you with such forceful speed that you could feel the cool slap of wind strike your face in a millisecond. It seemed like large wings were attached to the horses\u2019 legs as they were flying effortlessly over the towering bars of each of the jumps. From that moment on, I felt an awe-inspiring admiration towards them. I fought against the negative thoughts swirling in my mind, constantly reminding me that riding a horse could have fatal consequences. When I finally started jumping, it felt like I was gliding over the shining stars and the moon, while at the same time I had an overpowering sensation of pride and satisfaction. The door of my fears of my past that were holding me back from doing risky things had finally closed off. The feelings of happiness and content that were achieved from all of the long, arduous months of transforming from a newborn to a skillful rider had raised my level of self-esteem to a great extent.
\nAs the years have gone by, I cannot help but feel that my admiration was a little too overwhelming. As I watch younger children with problematic and frightened looks on their faces ride their short, stout, and stubborn ponies, I imagined myself, 8 years ago, on the verge of falling off into the mushy mud. At times I see the children\u2019s faces beam with admiration as they watch us jump effortlessly. I can\u2019t stop wondering how silly and foolish my thoughts were as a small child. Now, I see riding as nothing spectacular or new. Gracefulness of the horses\u2019 smooth strides and the amazing balance of the rider now seem like nothing more than a healthy workout and exercise routine. The constant worry that my new boots, splattered brown with gooey mud, would ruin, haunted me. Jumping over the low bars was a piece of cake, but as I was told by my instructor to jump even higher, a terrible fear swept over me. The door of my fears has cracked open furtively once again. The stirrups would break, I fall off, a clearly audible BANG would indicate my head reaching the ground with terrible force. The scent of mud would swim to my nose and my face would be encrusted with dirt.
\nThe excitement and adrenaline rush were all gone from my experiences with horseback riding. Now, the hobby is merely an exercise routine, something to occupy and distract myself from the hardships of schoolwork faced every week.","replyPages":[{"page":0,"digests":[{"id":"34070982","body":"Lotte,
\n
\nThere are some very nice images here: "It seemed like large wings were attached to the horses\u2019 legs..."; "...as easy as cracking an egg into a sizzling frying pan."
\nThere are, however, many grammatical mistakes that I think, were you to have answered earlier in the week, you might have had time to fix: "incredibly graceful","admiration towards them," "The feelings of happiness and content",
\nOverall, the organization and structure are sound, but please answer earlier in the future in order to both fix your mistakes and have the opportunity to receive full credit.
\n
\nWebster","dateCreated":"1297440921","smartDate":"Feb 11, 2011","userCreated":{"username":"davidgarethw","url":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/user\/view\/davidgarethw","imageUrl":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/i\/user_none_lg.jpg"}},{"id":"34077612","body":"Sorry for the mistakes, I think these are now correct:
\n-incredibly gracefully
\n-admiration for them
\n-the feelings of happiness and contentment","dateCreated":"1297446808","smartDate":"Feb 11, 2011","userCreated":{"username":"lottej95","url":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/user\/view\/lottej95","imageUrl":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/i\/user_none_lg.jpg"}},{"id":"34078366","body":"Perfect,
\n
\nThanks Lotte,
\n
\nWebster","dateCreated":"1297447435","smartDate":"Feb 11, 2011","userCreated":{"username":"davidgarethw","url":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/user\/view\/davidgarethw","imageUrl":"https:\/\/www.wikispaces.com\/i\/user_none_lg.jpg"}}],"more":0}]}],"more":true},"comments":[]},"http":{"code":200,"status":"OK"},"redirectUrl":null,"javascript":null,"notices":{"warning":[],"error":[],"info":[],"success":[]}}