like to give them fertilizer

v1se0547 · Wysłany: Pią 7:15, 18 Mar 2011 Temat postu: like to give them fertilizer

two days the end of next semester, I transferred to a new school. Is still a rural school, but the new class of language teachers and those, such as just before the ground has not been washed mud onto the farmer like the teacher is entirely different. He is so young,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], twenty four or five of the way, British Gas is compelling, knowledgeable, said that the standard class of Class fluent in Mandarin. This image, I only saw in movies. Little enthusiasm heart irresistibly in love with him. Plain looking, mediocre, so I'm abnormal sense of inferiority. Teachers as a bright moon hung in heaven, his side flashing like stars around so many good students, but I'm just clumsy ugly duckling in the swamp. I imagine that he is described by Hans Christian Andersen The Ugly Duckling, long for the day faded ugly feathers, into a swan, beautiful and proud. Can do is study hard, study, study, and achieved excellent results, winning the favor of the teacher. Who knows? The secret of the fanatical love you able to inspire the children of a qualified average maximum potential. In addition to all surprised that the rapid increase of the performance, leaving the proof of the addition, an

that I wondered a bit ashamed of today's hypocritical pen name, taken from two lines to write the famous poem Mei Before,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], there had to Not because of Tao's But addicted to the At that time I felt aloof from the world, such as access to break things Startled looking hermit. I'm not a hermit, but the end, not only did the handsome hermit scattered in essence, self-esteem but to show people the image of Juan Jie. across such a large book in the vulgar philistine. May I write a poem collected, eager vulgarity, eager goods section, such as plum, fighting as May.

Jin Yong's novels,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], the most favorite character is Guo Xiang,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], the most preferred name is Feng Qingyang. Gratuitous way of pure love, is the appropriation, and impossible to use for several years. Perhaps subconsciously, I hope he is sword of the World, except Pa Anliang, righteous spirit, but it incognito knight.

as teachers both a wife and mother a long time, a sudden perception that he is actually a peasant woman. Bright red radish,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], bean sprouts water Lingling, green vegetables, cyclic the potatoes, the students next term, just as the crop of crop of vegetables. A stretch of a ridge ridge, if you want to bloom cheerfully, have a good harvest, we must be willing to sweat, and willing to fertilization, great care, but also to pray for God opening the eyes. The family is their own private plots of land may be poor, perhaps the seed poor, but it is their own. People's land is fertile, the seed quality people, people of the garden harvest, it is others. Pro Yuan Xian fish, as retreat webs. In addition to carefully tends the, struggling to survive their own one-third of an acre of land, you have no choice. Both the private plots, or commission farming, a sweat of a harvest is unalterable. I like to watch seeds sprout, ground-breaking, pumping seedlings; like to give them fertilizer, weeding, cut close, watering, pest. I believe Inf, no violation of my wishes.

cloud in the sky, mud on the ground, clouds and mud of the incompatible, so have a said. But I think life is alive, you need to get down to live life in earnest. Red among the tired and you may live, to live wretched and had to bend down and had to insincere. But you can Upon the construction of a sanctuary for your spirit, in that space, you can go to the Qing Dynasty to the Yuan, the heart climbed tour, you are the king of your mental world. Foot ground,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], the heart Chi clouds. This does not get lost nature.

parents only gave his one body, a name, but was able to pen many more of their own for no reason, so I can use various features of its capability to live, it seems more than others to live a few generations the great life. I like those beautiful names, each of which is the most simple short prayer in the hands of my beautiful dream.

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Mr. Dawson was an old grouch2), and everyone in town knew it. Kids knew not to go into his yard to pick a delicious apple, even off the ground, because old Dawson, they said, would come after you with his ball bullet gun.
One Friday, 12-year-old Janet was going to stay all night with her friend Amy. They had to walk by Dawson’s house on the way to Amy’s house, but as they got close Janet saw him sitting on his front porch3)and suggested they cross over to the other side of the street. Like most of the children, she was scared4)of the old man because of the stories she’d heard about him.
Amy said not to worry, Mr. Dawson wouldn’t hurt anyone. Still, Janet was growing more nervous with each step closer to the old man’s house. When they got close enough, Dawson looked up with his usual frown5), but when he saw it was Amy, a broad smile changed his entire face as he said, “Hello Miss Amy. I see you’ve got a little friend with you today.”