lunes, 29 de febrero de 2016

Saint Patrick

St Patrick’s Day is now celebrated throughout the world, not just in Ireland, with the largest parade taking place in New York City.

St. Patrick's Day around the world







saint patrick day's worksheet

wordsearch

irish-american history





The Stolen Child, by William Buttler Yeats

WRITING ACTIVITIES (BBC)

In Writing for a Purpose you can find information and exercises on the following language areas:
 
Adjectives: personal feelings about a topic
Collecting data
Defining terms
Describing location, structure, procedure
Discourse markers (linking devices)
Evaluating positions
Explaining cause, effect and significance
Expressions for arguing, evaluating and reaching conclusions
General nouns (for referring back)
Giving reasons for choices or decisions
Linking expressions
Making claims and reaching conclusions
Making recommendations
Measuring and calculating
Nominalised verbs
Phrasal verbs
Planning choices
Quantities Reporting verbs
Reporting verbs
Reporting what is known or believed
Talking about levels of challenge
Talking about methods
Talking about results
Talking about roles
Talking about willingness and ability
Talking about worry and anxiety
 
 
 
The exercises in Writing for a Purpose develop the following skills and language areas:
 
Arguing and making claims 1 and Arguing and making claims 2
Cause and effect 1 and Cause & effect 2
Concluding 1 and Concluding 2
Defining
Describing procedures and methods 1 and Describing procedures and methods 2
Discourse markers
Evaluating 1 and Evaluating 2
Explaining cause, effect and significance
Expressing feelings
General "shell" nouns
"It constructions 1"It" constructions 2 and "It" constructions 3
Measuring and calculating
Nominalisation
Number and quantity
Phrasal verbs
Recommending
Referring to the work of others 1 and Referring to the work of others 2
 
 
  - See more at: http://learnenglish.britishcouncil.org/en/vocabulary-exercise-index#sthash.40dbEYSr.dpuf

Learn English Vocabulary: Talking about FEAR

You learn something every day if you pay attention. ~Ray LeBlond


Fear vocabulary

Alice and Helen by the Eiffel Tower in Paris

Vocabulary of fear

We can talk about things that frighten us by using these words:scare, fright, terrify and fear.

To be scared/frightened/terrified of + noun
Alice is scared of heights.
He's frightened of spiders.
They're terrified of exams.

Passive form:
Heights scare Alice.
Dogs terrify me.
Loud noises always frighten him.

To get a fright
She gets a fright every time she hears a dog bark.
got such a fright when I saw the mouse.

To have/have got a fear of + noun
I've a real fear of speaking in public.
He's got a fear of horses.

Phobias

The word 'phobia' comes from the Greek for 'fear'. In English we can make words with the 'phobia' at the end to describe types of fears.

These phobias are nouns. "She suffers from arachnophobia. If she even sees a picture of a spider, she starts crying".

The noun to describe the person with a phobia is phobic. For example, "He can't go in lifts because he's claustrophobic".

acrophobia
fear of heights

arachnophobia
fear of spiders

agoraphobia
fear of open or public spaces

claustrophobia
fear of closed or small spaces

technophobia
fear of new things (especially technology)


Expressions and idioms of fear

To talk about when something or someone gives you a fright, you can use these expressions:

To scare the living daylights out of someone
I thought I was the only one in the house so when he walked into the room, he scared the living daylights out of me.

To get the fright of your life
got the fright of my life when she crept up behind me and shouted "Boo!"

Vocabulary

architecture
style in which buildings are made

sway
move slowly from side to side

acrophobia
fear of heights 


more at BBC LEARNING

domingo, 28 de febrero de 2016

Creative Ways to Say Yes .

               Creative Ways to Say Yes                   
1. yes
2. yeah
3. OK
4. okey-dokey
5. by all means
6. affirmative
7. aye aye
8. roger
9. 10-4
10. uh-huh
11. righto
12. very well
13. yup
14. yuppers
15. right on
16. ja
17. surely
18. amen
19. fo’ shizzle
20. totally
21. sure

martes, 23 de febrero de 2016

BBC English Class: The continuous passive

You learn something every day if you pay attention. ~Ray LeBlond

5 tips to improve your writing

You learn something every day if you pay attention. ~Ray LeBlond

The Waterboys - The Stolen Child

"The Stolen Child", a poem published in 1889 by the Irish poet William Butler Yeats, is based on an Irish legend.

read the poem here









The Stolen Child


WHERE dips the rocky highland
Of Sleuth Wood in the lake,
There lies a leafy island
Where flapping herons wake
The drowsy water rats;
There we've hid our faery vats,
Full of berrys
And of reddest stolen cherries.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

Where the wave of moonlight glosses
The dim gray sands with light,
Far off by furthest Rosses
We foot it all the night,
Weaving olden dances
Mingling hands and mingling glances
Till the moon has taken flight;
To and fro we leap
And chase the frothy bubbles,
While the world is full of troubles
And anxious in its sleep.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

Where the wandering water gushes
From the hills above Glen-Car,
In pools among the rushes
That scarce could bathe a star,
We seek for slumbering trout
And whispering in their ears
Give them unquiet dreams;
Leaning softly out
From ferns that drop their tears
Over the young streams.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

Away with us he's going,
The solemn-eyed:
He'll hear no more the lowing
Of the calves on the warm hillside
Or the kettle on the hob
Sing peace into his breast,
Or see the brown mice bob
Round and round the oatmeal chest.
For he comes, the human child,
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than he can understand.

jueves, 18 de febrero de 2016

THE INGENIOUS GENTLEMAN DON QUIXOTE OF LA MANCHA (1605)



Don Quixote of La Mancha






PART ONE:
THE INGENIOUS GENTLEMAN DON QUIXOTE OF LA MANCHA (1605)



CHAPTER I

Which treats of the character and pursuits of the famous gentleman Don Quixote of La Mancha

In a village of La Mancha, the name of which I have no desire to call to mind, there lived not long since one of those gentlemen that keep a lance in the lance-rack, an old buckler, a lean hack, and a greyhound for coursing. An olla of rather more beef than mutton, a salad on most nights, scraps on Saturdays, lentils on Fridays, and a pigeon or so extra on Sundays, made away with three-quarters of his income. The rest of it went in a doublet of fine cloth and velvet breeches and shoes to match for holidays, while on week-days he made a brave figure in his best homespun. He had in his house a housekeeper past forty, a niece under twenty, and a lad for the field and market-place, who used to saddle the hack as well as handle the bill-hook. The age of this gentleman of ours was bordering on fifty; he was of a hardy habit, spare, gaunt-featured, a very early riser and a great sportsman. They will have it his surname was Quixada or Quesada (for here there is some difference of opinion among the authors who write on the subject), although from reasonable conjectures it seems plain that he was called Quexana. This, however, is of but little importance to our tale; it will be enough not to stray a hair's breadth from the truth in the telling of it.

You must know, then, that the above-named gentleman whenever he was at leisure (which was mostly all the year round) gave himself up to reading books of chivalry with such ardour and avidity that he almost entirely neglected the pursuit of his field-sports, and even the management of his property; and to such a pitch did his eagerness and infatuation go that he sold many an acre of tillageland to buy books of chivalry to read, and brought home as many of them as he could get. But of all there were none he liked so well as those of the famous Feliciano de Silva's composition, for their lucidity of style and complicated conceits were as pearls in his sight, particularly when in his reading he came upon courtships and cartels, where he often found passages like "the reason of the unreason with which my reason is afflicted so weakens my reason that with reason I murmur at your beauty;" or again, "the high heavens, that of your divinity divinely fortify you with the stars, render you deserving of the desert your greatness deserves." Over conceits of this sort the poor gentleman lost his wits, and used to lie awake striving to understand them and worm the meaning out of them; what Aristotle himself could not have made out or extracted had he come to life again for that special purpose. He was not at all easy about the wounds which Don Belianis gave and took, because it seemed to him that, great as were the surgeons who had cured him, he must have had his face and body covered all over with seams and scars. He commended, however, the author's way of ending his book with the promise of that interminable adventure, and many a time was he tempted to take up his pen and finish it properly as is there proposed, which no doubt he would have done, and made a successful piece of work of it too, had not greater and more absorbing thoughts prevented him.

Many an argument did he have with the curate of his village (a learned man, and a graduate of Siguenza) as to which had been the better knight, Palmerin of England or Amadis of Gaul. Master Nicholas, the village barber, however, used to say that neither of them came up to the Knight of Phoebus, and that if there was any that could compare with him it was Don Galaor, the brother of Amadis of Gaul, because he had a spirit that was equal to every occasion, and was no finikin knight, nor lachrymose like his brother, while in the matter of valour he was not a whit behind him. In short, he became so absorbed in his books that he spent his nights from sunset to sunrise, and his days from dawn to dark, poring over them; and what with little sleep and much reading his brains got so dry that he lost his wits. His fancy grew full of what he used to read about in his books, enchantments, quarrels, battles, challenges, wounds, wooings, loves, agonies, and all sorts of impossible nonsense; and it so possessed his mind that the whole fabric of invention and fancy he read of was true, that to him no history in the world had more reality in it. He used to say the Cid Ruy Diaz was a very good knight, but that he was not to be compared with the Knight of the Burning Sword who with one back-stroke cut in half two fierce and monstrous giants. He thought more of Bernardo del Carpio because at Roncesvalles he slew Roland in spite of enchantments, availing himself of the artifice of Hercules when he strangled Antaeus the son of Terra in his arms. He approved highly of the giant Morgante, because, although of the giant breed which is always arrogant and ill-conditioned, he alone was affable and well-bred. But above all he admired Reinaldos of Montalban, especially when he saw him sallying forth from his castle and robbing everyone he met, and when beyond the seas he stole that image of Mahomet which, as his history says, was entirely of gold. To have a bout of kicking at that traitor of a Ganelon he would have given his housekeeper, and his niece into the bargain.

In short, his wits being quite gone, he hit upon the strangest notion that ever madman in this world hit upon, and that was that he fancied it was right and requisite, as well for the support of his own honour as for the service of his country, that he should make a knight-errant of himself, roaming the world over in full armour and on horseback in quest of adventures, and putting in practice himself all that he had read of as being the usual practices of knights-errant; righting every kind of wrong, and exposing himself to peril and danger from which, in the issue, he was to reap eternal renown and fame. Already the poor man saw himself crowned by the might of his arm Emperor of Trebizond at least; and so, led away by the intense enjoyment he found in these pleasant fancies, he set himself forthwith to put his scheme into execution.

The first thing he did was to clean up some armour that had belonged to his great-grandfather, and had been for ages lying forgotten in a corner eaten with rust and covered with mildew. He scoured and polished it as best he could, but he perceived one great defect in it, that it had no closed helmet, nothing but a simple morion. This deficiency, however, his ingenuity supplied, for he contrived a kind of half-helmet of pasteboard which, fitted on to the morion, looked like a whole one. It is true that, in order to see if it was strong and fit to stand a cut, he drew his sword and gave it a couple of slashes, the first of which undid in an instant what had taken him a week to do. The ease with which he had knocked it to pieces disconcerted him somewhat, and to guard against that danger he set to work again, fixing bars of iron on the inside until he was satisfied with its strength; and then, not caring to try any more experiments with it, he passed it and adopted it as a helmet of the most perfect construction.

He next proceeded to inspect his hack, which, with more quartos than a real and more blemishes than the steed of Gonela, that "tantum pellis et ossa fuit," surpassed in his eyes the Bucephalus of Alexander or the Babieca of the Cid. Four days were spent in thinking what name to give him, because (as he said to himself) it was not right that a horse belonging to a knight so famous, and one with such merits of his own, should be without some distinctive name, and he strove to adapt it so as to indicate what he had been before belonging to a knight-errant, and what he then was; for it was only reasonable that, his master taking a new character, he should take a new name, and that it should be a distinguished and full-sounding one, befitting the new order and calling he was about to follow. And so, after having composed, struck out, rejected, added to, unmade, and remade a multitude of names out of his memory and fancy, he decided upon calling him Rocinante, a name, to his thinking, lofty, sonorous, and significant of his condition as a hack before he became what he now was, the first and foremost of all the hacks in the world.

Having got a name for his horse so much to his taste, he was anxious to get one for himself, and he was eight days more pondering over this point, till at last he made up his mind to call himself "Don Quixote," whence, as has been already said, the authors of this veracious history have inferred that his name must have been beyond a doubt Quixada, and not Quesada as others would have it. Recollecting, however, that the valiant Amadis was not content to call himself curtly Amadis and nothing more, but added the name of his kingdom and country to make it famous, and called himself Amadis of Gaul, he, like a good knight, resolved to add on the name of his, and to style himself Don Quixote of La Mancha, whereby, he considered, he described accurately his origin and country, and did honour to it in taking his surname from it.

So then, his armour being furbished, his morion turned into a helmet, his hack christened, and he himself confirmed, he came to the conclusion that nothing more was needed now but to look out for a lady to be in love with; for a knight-errant without love was like a tree without leaves or fruit, or a body without a soul. As he said to himself, "If, for my sins, or by my good fortune, I come across some giant hereabouts, a common occurrence with knights-errant, and overthrow him in one onslaught, or cleave him asunder to the waist, or, in short, vanquish and subdue him, will it not be well to have some one I may send him to as a present, that he may come in and fall on his knees before my sweet lady, and in a humble, submissive voice say, 'I am the giant Caraculiambro, lord of the island of Malindrania, vanquished in single combat by the never sufficiently extolled knight Don Quixote of La Mancha, who has commanded me to present myself before your Grace, that your Highness dispose of me at your pleasure'?" Oh, how our good gentleman enjoyed the delivery of this speech, especially when he had thought of some one to call his Lady! There was, so the story goes, in a village near his own a very good-looking farm-girl with whom he had been at one time in love, though, so far as is known, she never knew it nor gave a thought to the matter. Her name was Aldonza Lorenzo, and upon her he thought fit to confer the title of Lady of his Thoughts; and after some search for a name which should not be out of harmony with her own, and should suggest and indicate that of a princess and great lady, he decided upon calling her Dulcinea del Toboso -she being of El Toboso- a name, to his mind, musical, uncommon, and significant, like all those he had already bestowed upon himself and the things belonging to him.