<?xml version="1.0"?>
<rss version="2.0">
   <channel>
      <title>Language B_Module3 by Ingrid Clavero</title>
      <link>https://padlet.com/ingridclavero/c9toq6g2j59vvl8</link>
      <description></description>
      <language>en-us</language>
      <pubDate>2023-06-24 23:14:51 UTC</pubDate>
      <lastBuildDate>2023-06-27 23:23:23 UTC</lastBuildDate>
      <webMaster>hello@padlet.com</webMaster>
      <image>
         <url></url>
      </image>
      <item>
         <title>Extract #1-The Curious Incident of the Dog in the NightTime</title>
         <author>ingridclavero</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/ingridclavero/c9toq6g2j59vvl8/wish/2631563082</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div><br></div><div><em><sup>Then I stopped reading the letter because I felt sick.</sup></em></div><div><em><sup>Mother had not had a heart attack. Mother had not died. Mother had</sup></em></div><div><em><sup>been alive all the time. And Father had lied about this.</sup></em></div><div><em><sup>I tried really hard to think if there was any other explanation but I couldn't</sup></em></div><div><em><sup>think of one. And then I couldn't think of anything at all because my brain</sup></em></div><div><em><sup>wasn't working properly.</sup></em></div><div><em><sup>I felt giddy. It was like the room was swinging from side to side as if it</sup></em></div><div><em><sup>was at the top of a really tall building and the building was swinging</sup></em></div><div><em><sup>backward and forward in a strong wind (this is a simile, too). But I knew</sup></em></div><div><em><sup>that the room couldn't be swinging backward and forward, so it must have</sup></em></div><div><em><sup>been something which was happening inside my head.</sup></em></div><div><em><sup>&nbsp;</sup></em></div><div><em><sup>I rolled onto the bed and curled up in a ball.</sup></em></div><div><em><sup>&nbsp;</sup></em></div><div><em><sup>My stomach hurt.</sup></em></div><div><em><sup>&nbsp;</sup></em></div><div><em><sup>I don't know what happened then because there is a gap in my memory,</sup></em></div><div><em><sup>like a bit of the tape had been erased. But I know that a lot of time must</sup></em></div><div><em><sup>have passed because later on, when I opened my eyes again, I could see</sup></em></div><div><em><sup>that it was dark outside the window. And I had been sick because there</sup></em></div><div><em><sup>was sick all over the bed and on my hands and arms and face.</sup></em></div><div><em><sup>&nbsp;</sup></em></div><div><em><sup>But before this I heard Father coming into the house and calling out my</sup></em></div><div><em><sup>name, which is another reason why I know a lot of time had passed.</sup></em></div><div><em><sup>&nbsp;</sup></em></div><div><em><sup>And it was strange because he was calling, “Christopher . . . ?</sup></em></div><div><em><sup>Christopher . . . ?” and I could see my name written out as he was saying it.</sup></em></div><div><em><sup>Often I can see what someone is saying written out like it is being printed</sup></em></div><div><em><sup>on a computer screen, especially if they are in another room. But this was</sup></em></div><div><em><sup>not on a computer screen. I could see it written really large, like it was on a</sup></em></div><div><em><sup>big advert on the side of a bus. And it was in my mother's handwriting, like</sup></em></div><div><em><sup>this...</sup></em></div><div><br><br><br><br></div>]]></description>
         <enclosure url="https://exlibris.azureedge.net/covers/9780/0994/7043/4/9780099470434xxl.jpg" />
         <pubDate>2023-06-24 23:25:01 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/ingridclavero/c9toq6g2j59vvl8/wish/2631563082</guid>
      </item>
      <item>
         <title>Extract #2 - The Curious Incident of the Dog in the NightTime</title>
         <author>ingridclavero</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/ingridclavero/c9toq6g2j59vvl8/wish/2631564776</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div><br><br></div><div><em><sup>Then Mrs. Gascoyne said that she and Father should talk about this at some later point on their own. But Father asked her whether she wanted to say things she was embarrassed to say in front of me, and she said no, so he said, “Say them now, then.”</sup></em></div><div><em><sup>&nbsp;</sup></em></div><div><em><sup>And she said that if I sat an A level I would have to have a member of staff looking after me on my own in a separate room. And Father said he would pay someone £50 to do it after school and he wasn't going to take no for an answer. And she said she'd go away and think about it. And the next week she rang Father at home and told him that I could take the A level and the Reverend Peters would be what is called the invigilator.</sup></em></div><div><em><sup>&nbsp;</sup></em></div><div><em><sup>And after I've taken A-level maths I am going to take A-level further maths and physics and then I can go to university. There is not a university in our town, which is Swindon, because it is a small place. So we will have to move to another town where there is a university because I don't want to live on my own or in a house with other students. But that will be all right because Father wants to move to a different town as well. He sometimes say things like, “We've got to get out of this town, kiddo.” And sometimes he says, “Swindon is the arsehole of the world.”</sup></em></div><div><em><sup>&nbsp;</sup></em></div><div><em><sup>Then, when I've got a degree in maths, or physics, or maths and physics, I will be able to get a job and earn lots of money and I will be able to pay someone who can look after me and cook my meals and wash my clothes, or I will get a lady to marry me and be my wife and she can look after me so I can have company and not be on my own.</sup></em></div>]]></description>
         <enclosure url="https://media1.roccitynews.com/rochester/imager/u/zoom/16294948/curious-incident-of-the-dog-in-the-night-time---web.jpg" />
         <pubDate>2023-06-24 23:35:12 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/ingridclavero/c9toq6g2j59vvl8/wish/2631564776</guid>
      </item>
      <item>
         <title>Extract #3-The Secret Life of Bees </title>
         <author>ingridclavero</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/ingridclavero/c9toq6g2j59vvl8/wish/2631566960</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div><em><sup>I’d never seen Rosaleen so interested in a TV show that she would exert physical&nbsp; energy over it.<br>“What happened?” I asked. “Did they drop the atom bomb?” Ever since<br>we’d started bomb drills at school, I couldn’t help thinking my days were<br>numbered. Everybody was putting fallout shelters in their backyards, canning tap water, getting ready for the end of time. Thirteen students in my class made fallout-shelter models for their science project, which shows it was not just me worried about it. We were obsessed with Mr. Khrushchev and his missiles.<br></sup></em><br></div><div><em><sup>“No, the bomb hasn’t gone off,” she said. “Just come here and see if you<br>can fix the TV.” Her fists were burrowed so deep into her hips they seemed to disappear.<br>I twisted tin foil around the antennae. Things cleared up enough to make<br>out President Johnson taking his seat at a desk, people all around. I didn’t care much for the president because of the way he held his beagles by the ears. I did admire his wife, Lady Bird, though, who always looked like she wanted nothing more than to sprout wings and fly away.<br>Rosaleen dragged the footstool in front of the set and sat down, so the<br>whole thing vanished under her. She leaned toward the set, holding a piece of her skirt and winding it around in her hands.<br></sup></em><br></div><div><em><sup>“What is going on?” I said, but she was so caught up in whatever was<br>happening she didn’t even answer me. On the screen the president signed his name on a piece of paper, using about ten ink pens to get it done.<br></sup></em><br></div><div><em><sup>“Rosaleen—”<br></sup></em><br></div><div><em><sup>“Shhh,” she said, waving her hand.<br></sup></em><br></div><div><em><sup>I had to get the news from the TV man. “Today, July second, 1964,” he<br>said, “The president of the United States signed the Civil Rights Act into law in the East Room of the White House….”</sup></em><br><br></div>]]></description>
         <enclosure url="https://www.bookishelf.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/04/Book-Review-The-Secret-Life-of-Bees-by-Sue-Monk-Kidd-1338x2048.jpg" />
         <pubDate>2023-06-24 23:43:23 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/ingridclavero/c9toq6g2j59vvl8/wish/2631566960</guid>
      </item>
      <item>
         <title>Extract #4-The Secret Life of Bees</title>
         <author>ingridclavero</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/ingridclavero/c9toq6g2j59vvl8/wish/2631567402</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div><em><sup>“I have a collect call from Lily Owens,” the operator said. “Will you<br></sup></em><br></div><div><em><sup>accept the charge?”<br></sup></em><br></div><div><em><sup>“You’re goddamn right I’ll accept it,” he said. Then, without waiting for<br>me to say P-turkey, he launched right in. “Lily, where the hell are you?”<br>I had to hold the phone from my eardrum for fear of him rupturing it. “T.<br>Ray, I’m sorry I had to leave, but—”<br>“You tell me where you are right now, do you hear me? Do you have any<br>idea the trouble you’re in? Busting Rosaleen out of the hospital—holy shit,<br>what were you thinking?”<br>“I was only—”<br>“I’ll tell you what you were. You were a goddamn fool who went looking<br>for trouble and found it. Because of you I can’t walk down the street in<br>Sylvan without people staring at me. I’ve had to stop everything and search<br>for you all over creation, and meanwhile, the peaches have gone to hell.”<br></sup></em><br></div><div><em><sup>“Well, quit yelling, all right? I said I was sorry.”<br></sup></em><br></div><div><em><sup>“Your sorry ain’t worth a shitload of peaches, Lily. I swear to God—”<br></sup></em><br></div><div><em><sup>“I called because I was just wondering something.”<br></sup></em><br></div><div><em><sup>“Where are you? Answer me.”<br></sup></em><br></div><div><em><sup>I squeezed the arm of the chair till my knuckles hurt. “I was wondering,<br>do you know what my favorite color is?”<br>“Jesus Christ. What are you talking about? You tell me where you are.”<br>“I said, do you know what my favorite color is?”<br></sup></em><br></div><div><em><sup>“I know one thing, and that’s I’m gonna find you, Lily, and when I do,<br>I’m gonna tear you behind to pieces—”<br></sup></em><br></div><div><em><sup>I lowered the receiver back to the cradle and sat on the sofa again. I sat in<br>the brightness of the afternoon and watched the hem of light under the<br>venetian blinds. I told myself, Don’t you cry. Don’t you dare cry. So what if he<br>doesn’t know the color you love best? So what?</sup></em><em><br></em><br></div>]]></description>
         <enclosure url="http://www.freemovieposters.net/posters/secret_life_of_bees_the_2008_4914_poster.jpg" />
         <pubDate>2023-06-24 23:46:51 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/ingridclavero/c9toq6g2j59vvl8/wish/2631567402</guid>
      </item>
      <item>
         <title>Extract #5a - Mauss by Art Spiegelman</title>
         <author></author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/ingridclavero/c9toq6g2j59vvl8/wish/2632758404</link>
         <description><![CDATA[]]></description>
         <enclosure url="https://padlet-uploads.storage.googleapis.com/1680159235/20bdb49e44391d8b1fe048c3f12291b8/Screen_Shot_2023_06_23_at_11_52_54.png" />
         <pubDate>2023-06-26 20:15:26 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/ingridclavero/c9toq6g2j59vvl8/wish/2632758404</guid>
      </item>
      <item>
         <title>Extract #5b - Mauss by Art Spiegelman</title>
         <author></author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/ingridclavero/c9toq6g2j59vvl8/wish/2632758549</link>
         <description><![CDATA[]]></description>
         <enclosure url="https://padlet-uploads.storage.googleapis.com/1680159235/a53d949a1c018eb09a851f1cbdf368fc/Screen_Shot_2023_06_23_at_11_53_01.png" />
         <pubDate>2023-06-26 20:15:51 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/ingridclavero/c9toq6g2j59vvl8/wish/2632758549</guid>
      </item>
      <item>
         <title>Extract #6 - Z for Zachariah by Robert C O&#39;Brien</title>
         <author></author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/ingridclavero/c9toq6g2j59vvl8/wish/2632759801</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>Yesterday afternoon at four o’clock, as I had decided, I took my gun and went down the hill to the house. I came up behind it and walked, slowly and quietly, listening, round to the front. If I had heard any activity I was going to duck back and try to get away again without being seen. When I reached the front garden the dog came rushing up to meet me - I was afraid he was going to bark but he did not, he just sniffed my knee, wagged his tail and watched. I crept to the tent and looked in. It has a flap to close it, but that was hanging loose, partly open. Still it was dark inside. I could only see his legs at first. I crept closer, put my head inside, and my eyes adjusted to the dark. He lay on a sleeping bag, partly covered, his eyes closed, his head in a mess where he had been sick. He was breathing quite fast and shallow. Beside him lay a water bottle, a green plastic thing, knocked over and spilled; beside that lay a bottle of pills, large white ones, with the top off, also knocked over and partly spilled out.<br><br></div><div>	The tent roof was only about four feet high. I knelt down and went in, just a little, so that I could reach his hand where it lay on top of the bag. The smell was terrible. I touched his hand; it was dry and hot with fever. Just as I touched it Faro, his nose in the entrance, whined, and at the combination of the noise and the touch he opened his eyes.<br><br></div><div><br></div>]]></description>
         <enclosure url="https://padlet-uploads.storage.googleapis.com/1680159235/62953bf491596ccedd36a8c4b053d21b/9780440999010_us.jpg" />
         <pubDate>2023-06-26 20:18:57 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/ingridclavero/c9toq6g2j59vvl8/wish/2632759801</guid>
      </item>
      <item>
         <title>Extract 7 - Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck</title>
         <author></author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/ingridclavero/c9toq6g2j59vvl8/wish/2633764482</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div><em>Lennie sat in the hay and looked at a little dead puppy that lay in front of him. Lennie looked at it for a long time, and then he put out his huge hand and stroked it, stroked it clear from one end to the other.&nbsp;</em></div><div><br></div><div><em>&nbsp;And Lennie said softly to the puppy, "Why do you got to get killed? You ain't so little as mice. I didn't bounce you hard." He bent the pup's head up and looked in its face, and he said to it, "Now maybe George ain't gonna let me tend no rabbits, if he fin's out you got killed."&nbsp;</em></div><div><br></div><div><em>&nbsp;He scooped a little hollow and laid the puppy in it and covered it over with hay, out of sight; but he continued to stare at the mound he had made. He said, "This ain't no bad thing like I got to go hide in the brush. Oh! no. This ain't. I'll tell George I foun' it dead."&nbsp;</em></div><div><br></div><div><em>He unburied the puppy and inspected it, and he stroked it from ears to tail. He went on sorrowfully, "But he'll know. George always knows. He'll say, 'You done it. Don't try to put nothing over on me.' An' he'll say, 'Now jus' for that you don't get to tend no rabbits!"'&nbsp;</em></div><div><br></div><div><em>Suddenly his anger arose. "God damn you," he cried. "Why do you got to get killed? You ain't so little as mice." He picked up the pup and hurled it from him. He turned his back on it. He sat bent over his knees and he whispered, "Now I won't get to tend the rabbits. Now he won't let me." He rocked himself back and forth in his sorrow.&nbsp;</em></div><div><br></div>]]></description>
         <enclosure url="https://padlet-uploads.storage.googleapis.com/1680159235/12eacaa4a3b72c3221726cf3f2a4d213/1493156531_0_m.jpg" />
         <pubDate>2023-06-27 23:10:52 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/ingridclavero/c9toq6g2j59vvl8/wish/2633764482</guid>
      </item>
      <item>
         <title>Distribution of Extracts Table</title>
         <author></author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/ingridclavero/c9toq6g2j59vvl8/wish/2633768972</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>Student 1: Extract #1 and Extract #3<br>Student 2: Extract #2 and Extract #5<br>Student 3: Extract #4 and Extract #7<br>Student 4: Extract #6 and Extract #1</div>]]></description>
         <enclosure url="" />
         <pubDate>2023-06-27 23:23:23 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/ingridclavero/c9toq6g2j59vvl8/wish/2633768972</guid>
      </item>
   </channel>
</rss>
