Class Bulletin Board

<body topmargin=0 leftmargin=0 marginheight=0 marginwidth=0> <table cellpadding=0 cellspacing=0 border=0><tr> <td valign="top" colspan=2 height=90 BGCOLOR="#006699" TEXT="#080000" background="181085a3.jpg"> <div> <FONT SIZE="5" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" ><B>Mrs. Toland's Digital Classroom          </B></FONT><B>    </B><B> |     </B><A HREF="index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Mrs. Tolands Digital Classroom "><U><B>home</B></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id17.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Meet Your Teacher"><U>Meet Your Teacher</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id18.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Parents Page"><U>Parents' Page</U></A>   |   <B>Class Bulletin Board</B>   |   <A HREF="id20.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Schedule"><U>Schedule</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id23.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Calendar"><U>Calendar</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id24.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Wishlist"><U>Wishlist</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id21.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Selected Links"><U>Selected Links</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id27.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Reports/ Projects"><U>Reports/ Projects</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id22.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Contact Me"><U>Contact Me</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id25.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Kevin Christian"><U>Kevin & Christian</U></A></div> <bR> <div> </div> </td> </tr><tr> <td valign="top" width=210 BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF" TEXT="#080000" background="182d2e83.jpg"> <div> "All the wold's a stage and we are merely players..."</div> <div> <I>-William Shakespeare</I></div> <bR> <div> <IMG SRC="1ad84b90.jpg" border=0 width="132" height="185" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <div> "Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind.”</div> <div>                      -Dr. Seuss</div> <bR> </td> <td valign="top" height=390 BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF" TEXT="#080000" background="18307073.jpg"> <bR> <div> <B>Class Bulletin Board</B></div> <div> <B> <TABLE BORDER="2" CELLPADDING="2" CELLSPACING="1" WIDTH="544" BORDERCOLORLIGHT="#C0C0C0" BORDERCOLORDARK="#808080" FRAME="BOX" RULES="ALL" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0" > <tR> <tD VALIGN=TOP HEIGHT= 66 ><NOBR><div> <A HREF="#class_of_2007_acrostic" TITLE="Class Bulletin Board"><U><B><U>Class of 200</U></B></U></A><B><U>9</U></B></div> <div> <A HREF="#class_of_2007_acrostic" TITLE="Class Bulletin Board"><U><B><U>Acrostic Summaries</U></B></U></A></div> <bR> </NOBR></tD> <tD VALIGN=TOP WIDTH="272"><div> <A HREF="#class_of_2007_poetry__" TITLE="Class Bulletin Board"><U><B><U>Class of 200</U></B></U></A><B><U>9</U></B></div> <div> <A HREF="#class_of_2007_poetry__" TITLE="Class Bulletin Board"><U><B><U>Poetry</U></B></U></A></div> </tD> </tR> <tR> <tD VALIGN=TOP HEIGHT= 71 ><NOBR><div> <A HREF="#the_well_of_sacrifice_" TITLE="Class Bulletin Board"><U>The Well of Sacrifice </U></A></div> <div> Class of 2009</div> <bR> </NOBR></tD> <tD VALIGN=TOP WIDTH="272"><IMG BORDER="0" SRC="1x1.gif" HEIGHT="71" ALIGN="bottom" WIDTH="272" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></tD> </tR> </TABLE></B></div> <div> <IMG SRC="1a9565c0.gif" border=0 width="86" height="92" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <div>               Every year in September our fifth grade class works collaboratively to write a fictional story with us as the main characters.  We begin by brainstorming possible story ideas and voting on a winner.  We pre-write ideas for problems, solutions, funny quotes or events we want to work into our story at some point. We take turns composing our thoughts and we feed off of each others ideas.  Sometimes we get on a roll!  Sometimes we throw away a whole page of our hard work! Sometimes we argue and have to take a break.  And then sometimes we are published by October.  Other times we are still writing the rough draft in January!  We all become incredibly passionate about our story. We work in small groups to revise and edit our story.  We use the dictionary and the thesaurus to perfect our story.  We then publish, illustrate and dedicate our story.  Sometimes, we are able to  "Screenwrite" our own story, turning it into a play we put on for the entire school and our parents!  We work very hard and continue to put the same effort in our own indivdual and paired writing adventures.  Now we really understand the writing process!</div> <bR> <bR> <div> <TABLE BORDER="2" CELLPADDING="3" CELLSPACING="3" WIDTH="741" BORDERCOLORLIGHT="#9999CC" BORDERCOLORDARK="#006666" FRAME="BOX" RULES="ALL" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0" > <tR> <tD VALIGN=TOP HEIGHT= 138 WIDTH="141"><div> <A HREF="#when_backpacks_attack" TITLE="Class Bulletin Board"><U><B><U>When Backpacks Attack!</U></B></U></A><A HREF="#when_backpacks_attack" TITLE="Class Bulletin Board"><U><B> </B></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="#when_backpacks_attack" TITLE="Class Bulletin Board"><U><B>by</B></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="#when_backpacks_attack" TITLE="Class Bulletin Board"><U><B> The Class of 2003</B></U></A></div> </tD> <tD VALIGN=TOP WIDTH="136"><div> <B> </B></div> <div> <A HREF="#the_freakiest_friday_1" TITLE="Class Bulletin Board"><U><B><U>The Freakiest Friday EVER</U></B></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="#the_freakiest_friday_1" TITLE="Class Bulletin Board"><U><B>by</B></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="#the_freakiest_friday_1" TITLE="Class Bulletin Board"><U><B> The Class of 2004</B></U></A></div> </tD> <tD VALIGN=TOP WIDTH="136"><bR> <div> <A HREF="#a_class_trip_gone_wrong" TITLE="Class Bulletin Board"><U><B><U>A Class Trip Gone Wrong</U></B></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="#a_class_trip_gone_wrong" TITLE="Class Bulletin Board"><U><B>by</B></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="#a_class_trip_gone_wrong" TITLE="Class Bulletin Board"><U><B> The Class of 2005</B></U></A></div> </tD> <tD VALIGN=TOP WIDTH="142"><bR> <div> <A HREF="#the_little_class_that_could___" TITLE="Class Bulletin Board"><U><B><U>The Little Class That Could...</U></B></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="#the_little_class_that_could___" TITLE="Class Bulletin Board"><U><B>by</B></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="#the_little_class_that_could___" TITLE="Class Bulletin Board"><U><B> The Class of 2006</B></U></A></div> </tD> <tD VALIGN=TOP WIDTH="124"><bR> <div> <A HREF="#think__write__dream_" TITLE="Class Bulletin Board"><U><U>Think. Write. Dream.</U></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="#think__write__dream_" TITLE="Class Bulletin Board"><U><B>by </B></U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="#think__write__dream_" TITLE="Class Bulletin Board"><U><B>The Class of 2007</B></U></A></div> </tD> </tR> <tR> <tD VALIGN=TOP HEIGHT= 185 WIDTH="141"><bR> <div> <B><U>When Tables Turn</U></B></div> <div> <B>by </B></div> <div> <B>The Class of 2008</B></div> <bR> <bR> </tD> <tD VALIGN=TOP WIDTH="136"><bR> <div> <B><U>In the Year of the Bully and Hannah Montana</U></B></div> <div> <B>by </B></div> <div> <B>The Class of 2009</B></div> </tD> <tD VALIGN=TOP><NOBR><bR> <bR> <div> ?</div> <bR> <div> <B>by </B></div> <div> <B>The Class of 2010</B></div> </NOBR></tD> <tD VALIGN=TOP WIDTH="142"><IMG BORDER="0" SRC="1x1.gif" HEIGHT="185" ALIGN="bottom" WIDTH="142" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></tD> <tD VALIGN=TOP WIDTH="124"><IMG BORDER="0" SRC="1x1.gif" HEIGHT="185" ALIGN="bottom" WIDTH="124" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></tD> </tR> </TABLE></div> <bR> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> <B> <TABLE BORDER="2" CELLPADDING="3" CELLSPACING="3" WIDTH="297" BORDERCOLORLIGHT="#9999CC" BORDERCOLORDARK="#006633" FRAME="BOX" RULES="ALL" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0" > <tR> <tD VALIGN=TOP HEIGHT= 140 ><NOBR><div> <B><IMG SRC="18d15810.png" border=0 width="277" height="129" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></B></div> </NOBR></tD> </tR> </TABLE></B></div> <bR> <bR> <bR> <div> <B> <A NAME="when_backpacks_attack"><IMG BORDER="0" SRC="1x1.gif" HEIGHT="1" ALIGN="bottom" WIDTH="1" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0" ></A></B><B><U>When Backpacks Attack!</U></B><B> </B></div> <div> <B>by The Class of 2003</B></div> <div> It was a normal day in Belford, New Jersey.  It was a day like any other day at Bayview School.  That was, until the backpacks attacked. You see, it all started a few months ago, in Mrs. Toland's classroom.</div> <div>      Andrea, a fifth-grader, had noticed that homework was not in her backpack.  When Mrs. Toland collected homework, Andrea shrieked, ¡°Who took my homework?  Daniel, you took my homework! I know you did!¡±  But Daniel didn't.</div> <div>      The very next day Matthew and Kelly were both missing homework!  Mrs. Toland made them do it AGAIN.  That very afternoon, Amanda discovered that her math book had disappeared.  She blamed Danielle.  There was <I>a lot</I> of drama in our fifth grade classroom that week!</div> <div>      The next week, everything returned to normal. It was nice and quiet-too quiet.  It was the calm before the storm.  When our class returned from recess, all of our desks were out in the hall.  R.J. and Dan squealed, ¡°It must have been Katie!  She was the only one who wasn't playing soccer!¡±  Then Candace reminded them that Katie was on crutches and couldn't possibly have moved nineteen desks.  John pondered this.  He decided that it must have been Mr. Bill!</div> <div>      Well, this went on for weeks.  One day Michael came back to the classroom to get his pencil for art class, but the door was locked.  A few days later, Melissa thoughtfully erased the board while she was waiting for her bus.  However, when Mrs. Toland came in the next morning, the board was scribbled on all over.  Melissa got blamed for that one.</div> <div>      The blame game continued.  Ashley was convinced that Tyler stole her lunch.  Megan yelled at Mary Beth for taking her headband and Mrs. Toland was watching everyone like a hawk!  Hannah began to suspect foul play.  Evan started searching for evidence, but had no luck.  We were clueless. Dumbfounded.  Utterly stupefied.  ¡°Eureka¡± squealed R.J. and Mary Beth in unison.  It must be the principal!¡±  Matthew and Andrea agreed.  Michael protested.  ¡°Why in the world would Dr. Andl betray us like that?¡±  </div> <div>      ¡°Yeah!¡± proclaimed Hannah confidently.  ¡°He's no double-crosser!¡±</div> <div>      ¡°Hmmmmm¡± snarled John.  ¡°It must be someone we would never suspect¡¦ or something.¡±</div> <div>      While we were discussing the possible suspects, Tyler blurted out ¡°Look!  The posters are all in pieces!¡±  Our teacher looked heartbroken.  ¡°Our classroom is being destroyed.¡± She sighed.  Everyone started to panic.  Some students were yelling.  Some were crying.  Some were even hiding under desks.  Mrs. Toland tried to calm everyone down.  When the classroom was finally quiet, you could hear it.  It was very faint at first.  Initially, only the back row heard it.  The Mrs. Toland heard it.  Then Danielle, who sits all the way in the front row whispered, ¡°What's that rustling sound?¡±     ¡°It sounds like it's coming from the backpacks¡¦¡± John began.  ¡°Is somebody trying to steal our reward tickets?¡± R.J. interrupted.  ¡°Look! Yelled Amanda.  ¡°The backpacks are moving all by themselves!  Half of our class ran out of the room squished themselves into the office.  Tyler and Hannah ran all the way out the front door! </div> <div>     Back in the classroom, the backpacks started growling.  Really growling - like mad dogs!  ¡°Now they're growing legs¡¦ and arms!¡± Meghan cried.  She and Andrea ran to the newsroom to warn the school.</div> <div>      Miss Neel and Dr. Andl were in the newsroom.  They did not believe the screaming girls' unbelievably tall tale.  That is, until Dr. Andl said curiously ¡°Miss Neel, where you wearing that backpack when I walked in here two minutes ago?¡±  </div> <div>      ¡°What backpack¡¦wait, how did this SpongeBob backpack get on my back?¡± she wailed.  ¡°Look!  It has legs!¡± Andrea remarked. ¡°And arms¡± added Meghan.  Just then dozens of angry backpacks busted in.  They all had arms and legs¡¦and attitudes!</div> <div> ¡°See.  We told you!¡± the girls whimpered as they began climbing out the window.</div> <div>      Dr. Andl, who believed us now, went on the air to warn the school of the attacking backpacks.  Mrs. Toland's students were wrestling the irate backpacks to the ground.  Dan dragged some beat-up and broken backpacks to the lawn.  ¡°Let's make a big, backpack bonfire!¡± He declared.</div> <div>      And we did.  After an exhausting struggle with the attacking backpacks, we all toasted marshmallows over a fifty foot bonfire.  While we were sharing stories that we thought nobody would ever believe, Michael up and left.  ¡°Where are you going?¡± asked Mary Beth.  Michael responded nervously, ¡°¡¦to check on the lunchboxes¡±</div> <bR> <div> <I>T h e    E n d</I></div> <bR> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div>  <A NAME="the_freakiest_friday_1"><IMG BORDER="0" SRC="1x1.gif" HEIGHT="1" ALIGN="bottom" WIDTH="1" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0" ></A><FONT SIZE="5" COLOR="#666699" FACE="Geometr231 BT" ><B><U>The Freakiest Friday EVER</U></B></FONT></div> <div> <I><B>by The Class of 2004</B></I></div> <div>           You'll never believe what happened one otherwise ordinary Friday at Bayview School. It all started in the morning some time after Patrick, a fifth-grader, delivered mail to the office for Mrs. Toland, our fearless teacher.  Nobody really knew if that event was significant or not.  Perhaps it had something to do with Shannon asking to use the bathroom at the same time.  Maybe it had to do with the fact that we were ordering chicken nuggets for lunch.  Whatever it was, it was weird.  It was more than weird.  It was unbelievable.  Some people to this very day still don't believe it.</div> <div>             Okay. Picture this.  Mrs. Toland's fifth grade class is working quietly on their morning assignment when Michael reminds our forgetful teacher to turn on the Bayview Morning Express News.  While we were waiting for the news to come in clearly, we heard a loud thud.  Shannon had fallen off of her chair.  Then Brandon, who seemed sleepy all morning, dozed off and zonked his head on the desk.  Mrs. Toland was sort of annoyed, but she kept right on schedule.</div> <div> Our usually hyper teacher was sitting quietly watching the news.  Our usually talkative class was silent…suspiciously silent.  Allison broke the silence when she stood up and started singing opera.  In Italian.  Allison doesn't speak Italian.</div> <div> Spooky things were happening all over our school.  Victor headed right out the classroom door chanting “Hullabaloo!” while Bri started karate chopping her friend Eva.  Now if that wasn't bad enough, Alyssa and Eric started flapping their arms yelling “I'm a chicken. Moo!” in perfect unison.</div> <div> When Shannon returned from the bathroom, she was shocked by all the bizarre behavior.  She was going to ask Mrs. Toland what happened when Mrs. Toland suddenly fainted. Shannon saw Cory, one of our top basketball players, leaping over her teacher squeaking “Where's my tutu?  Where is my tutu?” Shannon was astonished at everyone's strange behavior.  She was mystified.  And she was all alone in her saneness.  Patrick came back from his errands, with even more disturbing information.  “You'll never believe this!” He began to announce to his fifth grade class.  “The whole school's gone mad!”</div> <div> “Tell me about it!” replied Shannon from under her desk.  “I'm hiding under my desk and I'M the civilized soul in here!”</div> <div> “Why?” asked pat.  “Why is this happening?  It's as if everyone is brainwashed.”     </div> <div> “Except us” finished Shannon.  “So how come we are normal?”</div> <div> “You were never normal…” Pat joked</div> <div> “Seriously Patrick.  We need to figure out what's going on.”  Shannon replied maturely.</div> <div> “Maybe they are all messing with us.” Patrick offered</div> <div> “Okay.  We can test that theory.  Oh Cory! Cory!  I found your tutu!”  Cory's face lit up with excitement.</div> <div> “Oh!  Then where are my pretty pink ballet slippers?” Cory questioned sincerely.</div> <div> “Well there you go!” Shannon exclaimed.  “Cory doesn't even know what ballet is and can't you hear Allison singing Italian operas?”</div> <div> “Let's go to the principal's office!” Patrick insisted.</div> <div> “I'm sure Dr. Andl will give us a hand with all of this nonsense” Shannon agreed. But when the two determined students marched into the office, they found their usually reserved principal standing on top of his desk juggling scissors, staplers and tape dispensers while whistling the theme to Spongebob Squarepants.</div> <div> “Um.  Okay” Shannon stared blankly.</div> <div> “What do we do now?” asked pat.  Just then Casey and Nancy came in for a late pass.</div> <div> “What's happening?” Casey asked when she saw all of the commotion.  </div> <div> “Is this Freaky Friday?” asked Nancy.</div> <div> The two late students were filled in right away.  Now there were four relatively normal students with a mystery to solve.  The students went on a search to find other unaffected, normal people.  All they saw was Russell and Santino sweeping the halls and singing, “It's a Hard-knocked Life”  Nicole actually thought she  <I>was</I> Annie as she sang “The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow”  out the window to the crickets   Allison and Lizbeth were thoroughly enjoying the performance, sucking their thumbs and rocking back and forth.</div> <div> Patrick loved the song too.  He started singing along when Nancy jolted him. “Snap out of it!”  Patrick regained control as Mr. Bill, our custodian walked in.  “I saw two boys with my brooms in the hall.  I tried to talk to them, but it's like they were hypnotized!  What's going on here?” He asked curiously.</div> <div> “That's what we are trying to figure out!” responded Casey.  “I think you are right about the hypnotized thing.  Could that really be?”</div> <div> “Well Mark and Robert are doing the Tango.  Does that answer your question?” Patrick said.</div> <div> “Okay, when did all this craziness start?” Mr. Bill asked.</div> <div> “At 9:05.” Brandon interjected calmly in between snores.</div> <div> “Right about when I went to the office.” Pat remembered.</div> <div> “And I was in the bathroom!” Shannon shared. That got Mr. Bill thinking.  He pondered these things.  He wondered what could have happened in the classroom at exactly 9: 05 that could cause this chaos.  More importantly, he wondered what could have happened in <I>every</I> classroom at exactly the same time.</div> <div> It seemed as if Nancy was reading his mind when she blurted out, “The news!”</div> <div> “What?” Asked Casey</div> <div> “The news starts at 9:05 in every classroom!  That's got to be it!” Nancy affirmed. Mr. Bill was already nodding his head in agreement.  </div> <bR> <div> “The Bayview Morning Express news is hypnotizing the entire student body!” Mr. Bill stated calmly, still questioning the idea in his mind.</div> <div> “Not just the students!  Did you see the principal juggling office supplies and singing on his desk?”</div> <div> “No.”  Mr. Bill couldn't help but smile.  “But I did happen to see the new gym teacher doing yoga all tangled up in a volleyball net.”</div> <div> “Wait.  How could this happen?” Casey asked disbelievingly.</div> <div> “I'm not sure.” Mrs. Bill answered honestly.  “But there was a shady looking TV camera repairman here late last night.  He worked on the television studio equipment all night.  He gave me a record of it early this morning.  It's in my office!” </div> <div> The receipt clearly stated that the televisions should not be turned on for at least 72 hours under any circumstances.  Uh-oh.</div> <div> It didn't take the group long to figure out that the “repairman” had somehow done this dastardly deed.  But it did take a while to wake Brandon and coax Kelly down from the closet shelf.  Eventually, everything did return to normal at Bayview School. Although… Matthew and Ashley never watched the news again.  </div> <div>  <A NAME="a_class_trip_gone_wrong"><IMG BORDER="0" SRC="1x1.gif" HEIGHT="1" ALIGN="bottom" WIDTH="1" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0" ></A></div> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> <B><U>A Class Trip Gone Wrong</U></B></div> <div> <B>by The Class of 2005</B></div> <div>      <FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Batang" >Today is the day we've been waiting for all year!  It is the day every grade-schooler waits for all year.  It is field trip day!  Now, we have taken field trips to the park, the beach, museums, aquariums and zoos.  But this year, we are planning one of the oddest, craziest and perhaps scariest field tip ever.  This year, we are visiting a prison.     </FONT></div> <div>      It all started when our teacher, Mrs. Toland, excitedly detailed our plan to break the New Jersey record for ¡°most class trips taken in a single year¡±.  (Last year she tried to break the state record for ¡°most homework assigned in a marking period¡± but that had disastrous results.)  Well, we had already taken 6 fantastic field trips, but we needed to take 7 to beat the record.  Mark thought we'd go to Disneyworld, but that was too expensive.  Jennifer suggested the class could go to her house and witness the birth of her new chicks!  Unfortunately, Jennifer's parents thought the rooster was too dangerous.  Megan dreamily suggested ¡°The mall!¡± But the boys (and Dana) vetoed that on the spot!  Scott suggested a more masculine field trip.  He recommended the city dump.</div> <div>      ¡°Oh, that's lovely!¡± Tara responded sarcastically. ¡°Then maybe we can visit a sewer!¡±</div> <div>      ¡°Better yet,¡± Megan G. added, ¡°Why not go to a pigpen<FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Lucida Bright" >…</FONT> a landfill<FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Lucida Bright" >… </FONT>or how about a grand tour of all of the local Port-A-Potties?¡±</div> <div>      ¡°I have a good one!  Let's visit a prison!¡± Brooke screamed, jumping on the sarcasm bandwagon.</div> <div>      </div> <div> It was at this point that a <I>very</I> unfortunate misunderstanding occurred.</div> <div>      </div> <div>      <FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Batang" >¡°That's an excellent idea!¡± Sean exclaimed.  ¡°I wish I had thought of it.¡± He muttered under his breath.</FONT></div> <div>      ¡°Radical!¡± Russell, Scott and Brent wailed, in unison.</div> <div>      ¡°Brilliant!  Utterly brilliant!¡± Brent continued.</div> <div>      ¡°Yes!  That's it!¡±  Jimmy yelled excitedly.  ¡°<I>That</I> sounds like a cool field trip!¡±</div> <div>      ¡°That sounds like a crazy field trip!¡± Dana whispered to Jessica.  Jessica slowly shook her head from left to right and rolled her eyes to the ceiling.  Apparently she agreed with Dana.</div> <bR> <div>      ¡°Oh my gosh!  What would your parents say?¡± Mrs. Toland asked, interrupting all the excitement.  </div> <div>      ¡°But Mrs. Toland,¡± Brooke tried her best to lift her voice over the din, but Janet was already leading the class in a chant.</div> <div>      ¡°PRISON. PRISON!¡± They chanted uniformly.</div> <div>      ¡°PRISON. PRISON!¡± They continued excitedly.</div> <div>      ¡°PRISON. PRI-</div> <div>      ¡°Okay, okay!  I'll ask the principal, but I'm not making any promises, I don't believe Dr. Andl has ever allowed a class to visit a prison!¡± Mrs. Toland exasperated.</div> <div>      ¡°But<FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Lucida Bright" >…</FONT>but<FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Lucida Bright" >…</FONT> Mrs. Toland<FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Lucida Bright" >…</FONT> I was just being SARCASTIC!  I mean<FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Lucida Bright" >…</FONT>I<FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Lucida Bright" >…</FONT>ugh!¡±</div> <div>      Well, for some unknown, unfortunate reason, Dr. Andl thought that a class field trip to prison would be highly educational.</div> <div>      Highly educational indeed.</div> <bR> <div>      Well, today is the big day and we are thrilled about our impending trip. Well, some of ¡°we¡± are thrilled.  Some are a little uneasy and some are downright skittish.  Mary is whining and complaining that going to a prison is not an acceptable birthday activity.  ¡°But why does it have to be on my birthday.  Why couldn't we go to Toys R Us?  Why can't we go to Fun Time America?  Why can't we go to prison for Danielle's birthday?¡±</div> <div>      ¡°My birthday is in July!¡± Danielle squealed. </div> <div>      ¡°Okay fifth graders, the bus is here!  Everybody line up for our most exciting, record-breaking, chance taking and borderline criminal fifth grade field trip!¡± Mrs. Toland announced, somewhat prepared for what lie ahead.</div> <bR> <div>      When the bus pulled up in front of the prison, the students were astonished at the scene. Some very, very large (almost enormous some would say) prisoners were behind a soaring fence lifting weights as big as Andrew!</div> <div>      ¡°Wow!  Those guys look like they could bench press us.¡± Andrew noticed.  Far off in the courtyard, other men in shocking orange jumpsuits were making license plates.  It was definitely an intimidating scene.  It was clear to us that these prisoners were as nice as we'd hoped.</div> <div>      ¡°They don't look happy to see us.¡± Rebecca said fearfully.</div> <div>      ¡°What did you expect at a prison?¡± Jackie quipped ¡°Petticoat wearing hostesses who lift their pinky when they drink tea?¡±</div> <div>      ¡°All right, all right!¡± Mrs. Toland interrupted. ¡°Brooke suggested this field trip and everyone was on board, so let's get going!"</div> <div>         Brooke looked a bit aggravated at the mention of this horrible tip being <I>her</I> idea. </div> <div> ¡°Well if everyone wasn't so ridiculously literal<FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Lucida Bright" >…</FONT>maybe<FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Lucida Bright" >…</FONT>ugh!¡±</div> <bR> <div>      We lined up quite orderly and fearlessly stormed the prison doors.  Okay, maybe we weren't exactly fearless.  Maybe we were a little frightened.  But we certainly didn't want to show it.  Prisoners can smell fear.  We tiptoed through the heavy prison doors, which clanked and locked behind us.  We were calm, cool and collected, until Stephen tripped over his untied shoe.  And took Troy down with him. And Coquie.  And Russell. And, well, it was anything but calm, cool or collected.  It was more like a game of Dominoes gone terribly wrong.  And when we finally composed ourselves and pushed on¡¦ we didn't even notice that Mark was no longer in line with us.</div> <bR> <div>      ¡°Gooooood morning and welcome to New Jersey's premiere penitentiary!  I hope you enjoy your visit.  Before we begin, let's go over a few ground rules.¡± The intimidating man in the dark uniform began.  ¡°My name is Mr. Phillip Johnny Bob, but you can call me Mr. Bob.  I am the head prison guard and tour guide.  Although we've never actually had a tour, I am sure I will be very good at it.  Okay listen up!  Here are the rules:</div> <bR> <div> Prisoners have feelings too.  Please do not point or laugh at them.</div> <bR> <div> Stay in line behind me at all times.</div> <bR> <div> ¡°Must we keep our hands and feet to ourselves?¡±  Eddie interrupted.</div> <div>      <FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Batang" >¡°Yeah, that's a good idea.  No poking, prodding or perturbing the prisoners please!¡±  Mr. Bob added.</FONT></div> <div>      While we were listening intently, Brent inconspicuously snuck off to find Mark.  He wondered how everyone else could <I>not</I> notice Mark's obvious absence and he wondered if anyone would notice his own mysterious disappearance.  He also wondered if Mark was in the prison kitchen, searching for Jell-O.  Oddly enough, Andrew began having visions of Mark and little bowls of green Jell-O, so he slipped away almost unnoticed.  Mary, who notices everything, trailed Andrew more stealthily than she had ever done or ever would do again.</div> <div>      Mary, however, did not find Andrew, who did not find Brent, who did not find Mark who did not find anything green, or jiggle-y or anything even remotely related to Jell-O.  Mary did eventually discover Mark though<FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Lucida Bright" >… </FONT>wearing a shocking orange jumpsuit and sitting behind bars.</div> <div>      ¡°Mark!  What would your mother say?¡±  Mary squealed.</div> <div>      ¡°I don't know, but I bet it would be loud and start with <I>`Mark Raphael Schulze!'</I>¡±</div> <div>      ¡°Are you crazy?  What is wrong with you?  Do you like it in there?  How did you get in there?  Who did this to you?  How are you going to get out of there?¡± Mary blurted all of her thoughts out rapidly and rambunctiously.</div> <div>      <FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Batang" >¡°Maybe.  I don't know. I don't know. No. I don't know!¡±  Mark replied bewilderedly.  Apparently Mark was as baffled as Mary.  They are interrupted by a commotion coming another jail cell.</FONT></div> <div>      ¡°Don't touch me!  You can't lock me in this horrible, rat infested, poorly decorated, smelly old jail cell!  I'll sue!  I want my lawyer!  I want my attorney!  I want my mommy!¡±</div> <div>      Mary looked puzzled.  ¡°Did that voice sound familiar?¡± She questioned.  Before Mark had a chance to answer, Andrew ran up.</div> <div>      ¡°Have you guys seen Brent?¡± He asked</div> <div> ¡°Brent!¡±  Mark and Mary blurted in unison.</div> <div> ¡°Um, yeah.  Brent.¡± Andrew repeated perplexed.¡±  We were trying to find Mark when all of a sudden some big, old, hairy guy in an orange jumpsuit took hold of Brent and they disappeared!¡± </div> <div> ¡°Yeah, that's kind of what happened to me!  It sounds like he's in one of the next few cells.¡± Mark offered from his own dreary cell.</div> <div> Andrew stared at Mark in his orange jumpsuit, behind bars. ¡°Are you crazy?  What is wrong with you?  Do you like it in there?  How did you get in there?  Who did this to you?  How are you going to get out of there?¡± </div> <div> ¡°Not again!¡± Mark shook his head as he let his thoughts escape all at once. ¡°Okay, I thought I saw this perfectly untouched bowl of green Jell-O and nobody was there to eat it, so<FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Lucida Bright" >…</FONT> Don't look at me like that!  It was calling my name!¡± Mark's eyes started to water.  ¡°But it wasn't Jell-O.  It was this moldy, old bagel!¡± Mark cried. ¡°And then this guy in an orange jumpsuit shoved me into the cell and made me trade clothes with him and<FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Lucida Bright" >… </FONT>well, fortunately the bright shade of orange brings out the blue in my eyes!¡±</div> <div> ¡°Help me!  Get me out of here!  I don't belong in this cell!  I'm a good boy!¡± Brent's terrified voice interrupted Mark.</div> <div> ¡°Don't worry Brent! We're coming!  We'll help you!¡±  Andrew replied.  ¡°Keep making noise Brent, so we can locate you.¡±</div> <div> <FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" >     </FONT>¡°Oh like <I>that</I> will be hard!¡± Mary quipped.</div> <div>      ¡°What about me?¡± Mark whined.</div> <div>      ¡°Badddddding, badddddding.  Can you hear me dragging my cup across the bars?¡± Brent wailed. ¡° I've always wanted to do that!¡± He muttered, chuckling.</div> <div>      </div> <div> As Mary and Andrew deserted Mark to go find Brent, they stumbled over Stephen, who had recently run off from the group.  Stephen was talking to a prison custodian.  Or at least someone in a custodian's uniform. As the students approached the supposed employee, he quickly grabbed his unsuspecting prey and casually tossed him in the janitor's closet. Then the so-called custodian yelled, ¡°Get' em boys!¡± And out of nowhere two other prisoners grabbed the two skinny kids and locked them behind bars.  After they stopped screaming and crying, they noticed that they were not alone.  Jimmy, Tara and Megan were already in there!   </div> <div> ¡°Oh my gosh! What are you doing in here?¡± Mary exclaimed.</div> <div> ¡°We're having a birthday party!  What do you think?¡± Megan replied.</div> <bR> <div> ¡°I don't know what happened!¡± Tara added.  ¡°We were just walking with the tour guide, listening attentively to his boring lecture, when all of a sudden we were snatched right out of line!¡±</div> <div> ¡°Snatched for a birthday party?<I>  My</I> birthday party?¡± Mary questioned sincerely.</div> <div> Jimmy shook his head.  ¡°Yeah, Mary¡¦ for your surprise party!¡± As the imprisoned bunch tried to sort things out, Scott, Coquie and Jessica came running up with a jingling ring of keys.</div> <div> ¡°Quick!¡± Coquie ordered. ¡°Open the cell and then find the others.</div> <div> ¡°Wait!¡± Mary thought for a moment.  ¡°Are you here for my <I>surprise</I> party?¡± She hoped.</div> <div> ¡°Hurry!  They're coming!¡±  Jessica wailed.  ¡°Open the lock, Scott!  We still have others to find!¡±  Scott fumbled with the lock, but it eventually slid open.  </div> <div> ¡°Follow us!¡± Scott demanded.  ¡°We have to find Stephen!¡±</div> <div> ¡°And Brent!¡± Brent added from about 5 feet away.  After letting Brent out of his cell, Coquie heard knocking and banging.</div> <div> ¡°Stephen is locked in the closet!¡±  Andrew remembered.  But that ¡°Let's head for the bus!¡± Megan suggested. ¡°Come on!¡±  They all scattered and sprinted for the bus.  The rest of the class was already scrambling to get on the vehicle that they hoped would deliver us from this crazy place and back to reality.  Boy were we starting to appreciate the thought of cold, wet macaroni and cheese, stinky bathrooms and even homework.</div> <div> ¡°What a dreadful day!¡±  J.B. announced.</div> <div> ¡°Totally cheesy experience!¡±  Russell added.</div> <div> ¡°You don't know the half of it!¡±  Stephen retorted.</div> <div>  ¡°Just get on the bus!  I want out of here<FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Lucida Bright" >… </FONT>NOW!¡±  Danielle snapped. ¡°Now!¡±</div> <bR> <div> Once everyone was safely on board, the bus peeled out of the parking lot and was safe in Bayview School's parking lot in under an hour. The craziest field trip ever was finally finished and we all made it back in one piece!  Well, almost all of us.</div> <bR> <div> <B>Meanwhile, back at Trenton State Prison</B><FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Lucida Bright" ><B>…</B></FONT></div> <bR> <div> <I>¡°Hello?¡±  Helloooooooooo?  Is anybody out there?¡±  Mark pleaded to no one in particular. ¡°What was that noise?  Why did the lights go out?  Where is my Jell-O?¡±</I></div> <div> <I> <A NAME="the_little_class_that_could___"><IMG BORDER="0" SRC="1x1.gif" HEIGHT="1" ALIGN="bottom" WIDTH="1" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0" ></A></I></div> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> <B><U>The Little Class That Could...</U></B></div> <div> <I><B>by The Class of 2006</B></I></div> <div>      “I didn't know pudding could fly!” Christina wailed.</div> <div>      “Duck for cover!” Brianna screamed.</div> <div>      “Let the cream pies fly!” Ben yelped, loading up his pudding cups with whipped cream.</div> <div>      “Cease and desist Mr. Laudicano!” Dr. Andl firmly stated, as he entered the room.</div> <div>      “But I have chili pepper in my eye!” Justin hollered back.</div> <div>      </div> <div>       Unfortunately, this was not the first food fight in this classroom…It WILL be the last.  Mrs. Toland had said if there was one more incident, she was sending us all to military school.</div> <div>      “I don't want to go to military school!”  Sandra whined.</div> <div>      “ I'll get dirty.” Melissa sighed.</div> <div>      “Enough!  I have had enough!  You can all call your parents and pack your bags for military school!”  Mrs. Toland screamed.</div> <div>      “I can't believe she is serious!”  Lisa Marie cried.</div> <div>      Oh but she was serious.  Dead serious.  Our teacher told us she was dead serious after the third food fight.  And after the water balloon incident.  And the paper airplane episode, the great green spotted frog disaster and the musical chairs mishap.  This was it.  We were really dead meat.  We were on our way to military school.</div> <bR> <div>      The next morning, Mrs. Toland's fifth graders were lined up, single file, at Bayview school anxiously awaiting the bus that would take them to the worst school on earth, or at least in New Jersey, Uncle Bubba's Brat Camp.</div> <div>      The bus ride was long, hot and nauseating.  Tiny, our 6 foot 6 inch, 320-pound Sumo wrestler, and bus driver took the rockiest, bumpiest route possible.  Some of us almost threw up.  One of us did!  Sandra needed a new outfit before we even started.  And Melissa, who was already moaning about getting dirty, was unfortunately sitting too close to Sandra.</div> <div>      The bus stopped and we didn't know whether to run out or hide under the seats.  All we could see was miles of dirt and barbed wire.  There were kids making license plates and breaking rocks.  There were other kids doing push-ups and sit ups, and still more kids were suffering through an excruciating obstacle course.</div> <div>      “Hey!  That looks like fun!”  Branden yelped.  Just then a large, tree trunk of a man approached.</div> <div>      “Quit being so oblivious Branden!  This is not going to be fun!” Ben remarked.</div> <div>      “Okay you little food-throwing, frog flinging, chair-breaking, room-wrecking little maggots!  Stand in line and come with me.  I'll show you to your stalls.”  Bubba Jr. said sternly.</div> <div>      “I said get in line!”  He added.</div> <div>      “Bubba Jr. is awfully grouchy!”  Mark whispered.</div> <div>      “Drop and give me 50, young man!”  Uncle Bubba snapped.</div> <div>      “But I don't have any money!”   Mark replied.</div> <div>      “Not money, you little maggot…Push-ups!  Now drop!” he barked.</div> <div>      “1…,2…,3…,What comes next?” Mark joked.</div> <div>      “Start over!”  Bubba Jr. ordered.</div> <div>      “This is not good!”  Billy observed.</div> <div>      “Now you drop and give me 75! Anyone else?”</div> <div>      Now we've heard stories about Uncle Bubba, and most of them were pretty ugly.  Much like Uncle Bubba himself, we are told.  At this point, we've only met Bubba Jr.and he's pretty nasty.  One could only imagine how big Bubba Senior could be…and how vicious. </div> <div> Well the first week of Brat Camp was horrible, but the second week was…treacherous.  After days of push-ups, sit-ups, breaking rocks, shoveling coal, chopping wood, scrubbing floors and washing toilets, we spent our nights making beds and cooking pounds and pounds of broccoli spinach stew.  Broccoli Spinach Stew is NOT something I would have ever eaten.  I thought.  But when you're starving, dehydrated and near death, you'll eat anything.</div> <div>      The third week of Brat Camp was spent planning and building a throne for Uncle Bubba.  This week we really began working as a team so Bubba Jr. planned a special surprise for us.  Most of us were extremely excited; some of us were cautiously optimistic.</div> <div>      “What's really going on?”  Joseph questioned.</div> <div>      “What are we really in for?” Christina wondered aloud.  The ominous sound cracked the floor.  Another peculiar sound followed.  Boots tapping, a terrifying blend of banjos, guitars, accordions and rubber bands making rather unpleasant noise.</div> <div>      “I hear screeching violins!”  Chris yelled inappropriately,</div> <div>      “AHHHH!!!! Make it stop!  I despise country music!” Jessica cried.</div> <div>      “That's not even close to country music!” Hunter insisted.</div> <div>      “That's not even close to music!” Joe snapped.  Just then Bubba Jr. came in wearing overalls and a straw hat.</div> <div>      “I pictured you as more of a Fat Joe kind of guy!” Monique quipped.</div> <div>      “Yeah the bling doesn't go with the overalls!” Haleigh added.</div> <div>      “Grab a pardner, kids, we're getting jiggy in a square dancin' contest!  Yeeha!” Bubba Jr. announced in his best southern drawl.</div> <div>      “This just keeps getting better and better!” Sam blurted out.</div> <div>      “I don't want to learn how to square dance.  I'd rather be back at school.” Angela squeaked.</div> <div>      “We'd all rather be at school.” Manney answered.</div> <div>      “Well, we can't just click our heels three times and say, `There's no place like school…There's no place like school!  We have to graduate next week!”</div> <div>      “We better work really hard this week!” Carolyn screamed. “Starting now!”</div> <div>      “Let's do extra push-ups!” Tom pleaded.</div> <div>      “We'll double our license plate production!” Scott demanded.</div> <div>      “Let's paint Uncle Bubba's house and detail his old truck!” Evan added.</div> <div>      “Yeah!” We'll pimp his ride!” Haleigh and Melissa squealed in unison.</div> <div>      “That doesn't sound appropriate.”  Chris remarked.</div> <div>      “Okay, divide and conquer.  You guys get the paint and head for the house.</div> <div>      “We'll start cleaning and waxing, buffing, polishing, vacuuming and waxing the old jalopy.” Evan suggested.  </div> <div>      By the time we finished, we looked incredibly unkempt, untidy, bedraggled, and disheveled, and all of those other big words that mean sloppy.  But it was well worth it.  For we heard Uncle Bubba was so impressed, grateful even, that he moved our graduation up to tomorrow!</div> <div>      The graduation ceremony was an informal celebration.  There were no caps and gowns, but we all earned a beautiful parchment scroll with “Uncle Bubba's John Hancock.</div> <div>      “I can't wait to hang this on my wall!” Joe pronounced.</div> <div>      “Not me.  This might give me nightmares!” Angela remarked.</div> <div>      “I'm already having nightmares!”  Manny shared.</div> <div>      “Hey, here comes the bus!  It's time to go home!” Brianna told Sandra.</div> <div>      “But we never met Uncle Bubba!  We've worked our tails off graduated and everything and NO UNCLE BUBBA!  HOW FRUSTRATING!  HOW UTTERLY UNACCEPTABLE HOW RUDE!  “Where is Uncle Bubba?”  Melissa complained.</div> <bR> <div>      “He's driving the bus.”  Bubba Jr. said.</div> <div> Tom was so excited!  “And he's playing the radio really loudly…and it's my favorite song! The Great Adventure theme song!” He exclaimed.</div> <div> “Da-da-da-da-da-da” 24 kids became silent in an instant.  Not a sound could be heard.  It was as quiet as a library on a Super Bowl Sunday when Uncle Bubba opened the bus doors and slowly, quietly, cautiously and nervously limped down the bus stairs supporting himself on his cane.  Uncle Bubba surveyed the scene, cautiously inspecting straight lines and serious military form.  He must be impressed and ready to congratulate us, we all thought;  you know Uncle Bubba being a retired Marine general and all.  Suddenly, Uncle Bubba collapsed onto the dried out, coarse grass, falling like a pile of bricks.  Everyone was stunned.  Our mouths dropped down to the ground. </div> <div> “Holy Shni-keez…what are we going to do? Exclaimed Billy.</div> <div> “Is he dead?  Did he have a stroke?”  Questioned Christina.</div> <div> “Can I poke him with a stick?”  Joked Chris as he reached for a twig.</div> <div> “Shhh!” Jake answered, shaking his head.</div> <div> Just then Uncle Bubba burst into the air, like colorful fireworks on the Fourth of July.  He pressed a button on his cane and it transformed into a cardboard box.  Suddenly Uncle Bubba started busting a move.  He did a triple head spin and then flipped to his feet.  Next he spun around and then fell to the ground into The Worm. Uncle Bubba popped up back to his feet and posed into a headstand.  </div> <div>      “Holy cow!  He's dancing.  I thought he was an old man who could barely walk.”</div> <div>      “What is this world coming to?” Thought Ben. </div> <div>      “He's dancing!  I thought he was dead!” Cried Jessica. </div> <div>      “Hopefully he doesn't bust a bone.”  Joked Mark.</div> <div>      “Ha Ha, very funny.” Sandra said.</div> <div>      “Congratulations kids!  Now off to pick up the next crew.” Uncle Bubba cried.</div> <div> Uncle Bubba walked with a stagger back to his bus, cane in hand.  The class watched as his bus pulled off.</div> <div>      “That was interesting,” said Justin.</div> <div>      “You never know what will happen at this place.” LisaMarie exclaimed.</div> <div>      “Look, here comes another bus,” shouted Monique.The bus drove up the rocky gravel to where the class was standing.  Then an eerie man emerged from the bus.</div> <div>      “Come on kids, get on!” He croaked.  “I'm your ride home.  Hurry, hurry, I don't have all day.”</div> <div> “I've heard stories about you kids!  Stories about food fights, water balloon incidents, paper plane episodes and musical chair mishaps…frog included.  I thought you eggheads would be here for light years!  But then I also heard that you detailed my car, built me a throne and painted all of the buildings here.  That must have taken teamwork!  Not to mention the extra hard work to earn an early graduation.  I am impressed!  You seemed to have transformed from conniving little instigators to mature, cooperative fifth-graders!”  Uncle Bubba complimented.</div> <div>      “Almost sixth-graders!” Samantha corrected.</div> <div>      “Sixth-graders who are as sweet as my broccoli-spinach stew!”  Uncle Bubba replied lovingly.  “I know you will keep up the good work!  I can't wait to hear about all the amazing things you will do.  Just work hard and follow your dreams!”  Uncle Bubba held back his tears.</div> <div>      “Well, I guess this is good-bye.”  Branden sighed.</div> <div>      “The end of our journey.”  Justin added.</div> <div>      “Adios amigos!”  Scott announced.</div> <div>      “Au revior!”  Tom added, in perfect French.</div> <div>      “Caio!”  Said Evan.</div> <div>      “Sianora!”  Carolyn sang.</div> <div>      “Konichewa!”  Hunter blurted.</div> <div>      “Shalom!”  Billy yelped.</div> <div>      “Cheerio and toodle-oo!”  The girls sang in unison. </div> <div>      “What language is that?” Branden and Hunter questioned in unison.</div> <div>      “Is it German?”  Carolyn asked.</div> <div>      “No, that's Auf Wiedersehen.”  Jessica offered.</div> <div>      “Italian?”  Christina and Lisa Marie asked.</div> <div>      “That's arrivederci,” Monique quipped.</div> <div>      “I think good-bye in Arabic is salaam.” Chris shared.</div> <div>      “Omelet du fromage!” Ben blurted.</div> <div>      “That means cheese omelet!” Melissa and Brianna insisted.</div> <div>      “Mmmmmm…cheese!” Manney said, drooling.</div> <div>       </div> <div>      “Well, I bid you all adieu.  Good luck and get going.  Our next busload of campers awaits.”  Uncle Bubba said.</div> <div>      “Hey, look at that bus!” Jake pointed.</div> <div>      “Is that…?” Mark questioned, truly stunned.</div> <div>      “Oh my Gosh!” Carolyn commented.</div> <div>      “It is!” Emily Confirmed.</div> <div>      “Mr. Sabella's class!”  We all screamed.</div> <bR> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> <I><U> <A NAME="think__write__dream_"><IMG BORDER="0" SRC="1x1.gif" HEIGHT="1" ALIGN="bottom" WIDTH="1" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0" ></A></U></I><FONT SIZE="4" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" ><I><B><U>Think. Write. Dream.</U></B></I></FONT></div> <div> -By The Class of 2007</div> <bR> <div> “Mrs. Toland, I love the new journals on our desks!  They're not the boring old black and white ones!” Alex blurted excitedly.</div> <div> “Did you get them on your trip to Asia?” Katelyn asked.</div> <div> “What's today's lunch, Mrs. Toland? Melissa questioned.</div> <div> “I'd like pizza and chocolate milk, please.  Christopher said.</div> <div> “How do you spell efficient?”  James asked his teacher after trying everyone at his table… twice.</div> <div> “Does anyone have an eraser?” Alec wondered.</div> <div> “Boys and girls, you're making my head spin!  You should be sitting quietly and writing in your journals.  I will finish taking the lunch order.” Our tired teacher insisted.</div> <bR> <div> The first day back after spring break is always… chaotic!  Our class was writing about “A perfect day”.  We were chatting happily as we jotted down our dreams of breakfast buffet platters dripping with syrup, lounging lethargically in front of the television screen just killing time until being whisked off to Fun Time America.  Our journal writings were often remarkably similar.  Ten year olds tend to think alike.</div> <div> “Danielle, would you like to share your journal entry?” Mrs. Toland asked, knowing darn well that she would love to.</div> <div> “Yes!” She answered.  “First, I was awakened with the smell of delicious chocolate brownies.”  Danielle read animatedly.  “Then, after scarfing down a few, mom said she was taking us to Hershey Park… where there were FIVE POUND CHOCOLATE BARS, free chocolate kisses AND a factory to make your own chocolate in!”</div> <div> “Mmmmmm chocolate!” the class responded in unison.</div> <bR> <div> The rest of the day seemed to go more smoothly.  But it was followed by Tuesday, and Tuesday was gym day for Mrs. Toland's class.  And Mrs. Toland says we're always hyper on gym days…</div> <div> “Did you kids have Fruit Loops and Pepsi for breakfast?” She asked, exasperated.  “Please quietly finish your journal entries about faith.”</div> <div> “I wrote that I have faith that we'll have a cupcake sale today!”  Abbie whispered not so softly to Nina-Marie.  “I've been craving funfetti cupcakes with buttercream frosting ever since my mom had the quadruplets.  She never has time for cupcakes anymore!”</div> <div> “We never have cupcake sales on Tuesdays.” Nina-Marie replied.</div> <div> “Fifth-graders, quiet down.  We won't hear the announcement.”  Said Mrs. Toland.</div> <div> “Attention students!”  Dr. Andl announced.  “Due to a scheduling conflict, we've had to change the cupcake sale arranged for Friday…to today!  Please be sure to eat a healthy lunch before supporting the Bayview P.T.A. Bake sale.  Thank you.”</div> <div> “That's SO WEIRD!”  Lauren got out between giggles.</div> <div> “That's so <I>ironic</I>!”  James and Ryan Moore added at exactly the same time.</div> <div> “Now THAT'S ironic!” Ryan Perillo squealed.</div> <div> Abbie was all lit up.  “Yes!  Now all I need is a batch of butter cream funfettis!”  </div> <bR> <div> After the cupcake sale, we had language arts.  We read Jumanji and created our own Jumanji sequals.  Of course, those of us who finished early had time to write in our journals.  Tristan was the first one done, and after he dismantled his paper clip skyscraper and un-superglued his hands, he started writing in his journal.</div> <bR> <div> “If… I… won a… mill-ion… dollars…”  He read aloud as he wrote.  “I would by a mansion… and a shark.” Tristan mumbled aloud matter-of-factly. </div> <div> “Where would you win a million dollars?”  Gabe snapped.</div> <div> “Where would you get a pet shark?” Collin quipped.</div> <div> “On a game show.  And on Ebay, of course.”  Tristan answered.</div> <div> “I tried selling my sister on Ebay.”  Amberlynn shared.  “But my mom found out and she wouldn't let me.”</div> <div> While some of the girls who completely understood where Amberlynn was coming from comforted her, the other kids in our class started sharing stories, journal entries, and personal accounts of what they would do if they won a million dollars.</div> <div> “Christian, what are you writing about in your journal?” Jayson wondered, hoping it would give him an idea for his own journal.</div> <div> “I'm telling how I would spend my million dollars on a skate park for Bayview.  Imagine Dr. Andl kickflipping out of a bowl before the morning news!”</div> <div> “We would have the best recess EVER!”  Jayson smiled.</div> <div> “Yeah!  Just imagine how many kids would break their legs at lunch!” Jessica noted, with just a touch of sarcasm.</div> <div> “Sweet!”  Jayson and Christian laughed.</div> <div> “Can I work the computer?”  Alec protested.</div> <div> “I've never worked the computer either!” Walter pleaded.</div> <div> “Awww… sit on it!” Gabe wisecracked. </div> <div> “Gabe!” Mrs. Toland snapped.</div> <div> “I'm sorry!” Gabe offered.</div> <div> “Katelyn, pick a suitcase and let's begin “Deal or No Deal”.  Mrs. Toland commanded, always trying to keep us on track.  Mrs. Toland really tried hard to keep us working and learning and all that junk.  Sometimes we kind of felt bad talking and laughing and stuff.  But she did let us play games in math, and when you play games… there's bound to be talking and laughing! </div> <div> “Deal or No Deal” was one of our favorite math games.  Sometimes fractions and percents could actually be fun.  Who knew?  We rushed through the cases, opening one after the other and refusing all deals no matter what the odd.  It wasn't that we weren't good at determining probability, it was that we just didn't care.  It was more fun to keep opening cases and keep hope alive!</div> <div> There was one case left.  It was between $100,000,000 and $5.00; an equally likely chance.  The suspense was killing us.  Some of us had our eyes closed when we heard Katelyn gasp and scream, “Oh my gosh!”</div> <div> “Can we open our eyes?” Tim screamed with his hands still covering his eyes.</div> <div> “Open your eyes!” Katelyn encouraged.  “Come on!”  The screams and screeches accelerated as soon as our eyes met the screen.</div> <div> “We won a million dollars!”  William, Tim and Cody shrieked.</div> <div> “If I had a million dollars…” Emma, Alex and Jessie sang.</div> <div> After winning the million dollars in math, we went through the rest of the day floating on a cloud.  Until the bell rang, when we darted out the door like a buffalo stampede.  We couldn't wait to tell our parents about the million dollars… even if it was imaginary.</div> <bR> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> <IMG SRC="1bc08070.png" border=0 width="8" height="7" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0">     <IMG SRC="1bc08070.png" border=0 width="8" height="7" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0">     <IMG SRC="1bc08070.png" border=0 width="8" height="7" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0">    </div> <div>      </div> <bR> <div> The next morning was filled with nonstop American Idol chatter.  We like to share a total play by play, followed by our colorful comments.  We usually make Simon look like a sweet, little fuzzy bunny.  As always, our persistent teacher wrapped up our morning squabbles by writing our journal entry on the board.  Today's was titled, “If you could be granted one wish that could not be bought, what would it be?”</div> <div> Melissa Murray knew right away what she would wish for.  “I wish so much that I could be on television!”  She said, scrambling around, looking for her journal.  “Imagine!  I'd be famous!  I'd sign autographs!  I'd..”</div> <div> “That's not going to happen!” Emma interrupted.  “Not in a million years!”</div> <div> “Why not?  I was in a newspaper once!”  Nina-Marie countered.</div> <div> “Ooh, can I have your autograph?” Christian asked.</div> <div> “I want to be on TV too! That's a good one!”  Amberlynn declared.  “I want to be on a soap opera… or a game show!”</div> <div> “Just don't end up on Cops!”  Collin laughed.</div> <div> “Or Judge Judy!”  Tristan added with a smirk.  Just then, with his usual perfect timing, Dr. Andl walked in and started glancing at our journal entries, nodding and smiling at our brilliant fifth grade ideas.</div> <div> “What outstanding writers you have, Mrs. Toland!”  Dr. Andl complimented.  “Alec, that sounds like a great wish!”  He paused, reflectively.  “I wonder what I would wish for.”</div> <div> As we were heading out the door to art, Mrs. Toland was called to the office.  “Ooooooooh!”  The class sang, as all elementary students must when one is called to the office.</div> <bR> <div> Mrs. Toland was quite obviously busting at the seams with some news when we came back to our classroom.  “Well boys and girls, you are not going to believe this!  Not in a million years!”  She alleged.</div> <div> “Am I going to be on TV?”  Melissa guessed.</div> <div> “How did you know?” Mrs. Toland couldn't believe her luck.</div> <div> “I don't believe it!”  Emma gasped. </div> <div> “We're ALL going to be on television!”  Mrs. Toland shrieked.  “Dr. Andl just told me that the local cable channel is coming to film us playing “Deal or No Deal” for their show!”</div> <div> “Happy Birthday to me!”  Lauren giggled.</div> <div> “Isn't it amazing that we were just writing in our journals about being on TV and now it's really going to happen?”  Melissa Prindeville wondered.</div> <div> Abbie thought seriously about that.  “Isn't it weird that last week I wrote in my journal that we would have a cupcake sale… on a Tuesday… and we did?!  It was like an Emergency Cupcake Day just for me!”</div> <div> “That was just a coincidence.”  Collin noted.</div> <div> “What about the million dollars we wrote about?  Too bad that never came true!”  Walter complained.</div> <div> “Actually, it did!  Only we won it on “Deal or No Deal!”  James remembered.</div> <div> “Oh yeah!” Walter smiled.</div> <div> “Too bad we didn't get to spend it!” Alec said.</div> <div> “Yeah.  It was like fake money.”  William concluded.</div> <div> “Do you think everything we are writing about in our journals is really happening?”  Danielle considered.</div> <div> “Hmmmmmm”… The twins wondered.</div> <div> “Or do you think it's a co-ink-ee-dink?”  Christian contemplated.</div> <div> “It has to be a coincidence!  That could never happen.  It's impossible!”  Chris chimed in.</div> <div> “Well, we could come up with a way to test our hypothesis!”  Cody interjected.</div> <div> “How?”  Jayson asked.</div> <div> “We simply write a few… interesting ideas in our journals and see if they come true!”  Alex answered.</div> <div> “Let's write that Mrs. Toland started talking backwards!”  Tim considered.</div> <div> “YEAH!”  The class resounded.</div> <div> “Let's write that the president declared it National Ice Cream Sundae Day and we get to have banana splits for lunch!” Melissa Prindeville suggested.</div> <div> “YEAH!”  The class resounded.</div> <div> “Let's write that it's National Bow Down to Abbie Day!”  Abbie hoped.</div> <div> “NO WAY!”  The class resounded.</div> <div> “Do you think that if we wrote that the all-purpose room floor turned into bubble wrap, it would?” Cody questioned.</div> <div> “Well let's go write in our journals and see what happens!”  Lauren advised.</div> <div> In order to test out hypothesis, we all started frantically and imaginatively writing in our journals.  Bizarre, ridiculous and frivolously fifth grade ideas were flowing from our number 2 pencils.</div> <div> We wrote about teachers talking backwards and bubble wrap floors… boogie monsters… cookie monsters and muffin men galore!  We wrote about principals in monkey suits and Pig Latin exams, never-ending recess and line dancing in gym!</div> <div> “Line dancing in gym?!?!?”  The boys wailed.</div> <div> “Who's writing that?”  Chris demanded.</div> <div> After a lengthy series of denials, all eyes turned to Gabe.</div> <div> “What?! I like line dancing!  Oh come on!  Admit it!  You all like dancing in gym!”  Gabe insisted.</div> <div> “Sredarg htfif!  Nwod mlac.”  Mrs. Toland said.</div> <div> “Excuse me?” replied Jessica politely.</div> <div> “What exactly is she saying?”  Tristan asked.</div> <div> “She's talking backwards!”  Tim realized,  </div> <div> “It's working!  Everything we write in our journals is happening!” Nina- Marie confirmed.  We thought this was going to be the greatest day ever!  We could make all of our dreams come true…</div> <bR> <div> “Mrs. Toland!”  Dr. Andl yelled, running into our classroom.  “Mrs. Toland, we have a problem!”</div> <div> It took a few minutes to register.  It was like when you think you see something that shouldn't be there when you're lying in your room in the dark.  But it was there. It was a monkey suit, and it was on our principal.</div> <div> “Mrs. Toland, the television cameras are here and I can't seem to get this monkey suit off and we can't let them see me like this!”</div> <div> “Yhw era uoy gniraew a yeknom tius?”  Mrs. Toland asked, confused.</div> <div> “Excuse me?  I can't understand you!”  Dr. Andl replied, even more confused.</div> <div> She said, “Why are you wearing a monkey suit?” Jayson translated.</div> <div> “Oh.”</div> <div> “Well?”  Amberlynn waited to hear his answer.</div> <div> “I DON'T KNOW!!!  And I'm having trouble getting it off!”  Dr. Andl bellowed.</div> <div> You would think 24 kids could easily rip off one stuck monkey head… but surprisingly we failed repeatedly.  Our useless teacher was running around yelling things we couldn't take the time to figure out, and loud screams and strange popping sounds were coming from the gym.  I was like total anarchy.</div> <div> “So this is what anarchy sounds like!” Cody said, covering his ears.</div> <div> “Well, I don't know exactly what's going on here, but I suppose you guys are not going to be on television now.” Dr. Andl announced.  “The crews are just pulling up now and I can't let them in here like this!”</div> <div> “What if we can make it all stop?”  Alex asked.</div> <div> “How?”  The principal wondered.  “I've tried.  Wishing, yelling and threatening detention doesn't seem to be working.”</div> <div> “I could make an announcement!”  James suggested, trying any excuse to use the loudspeaker again.</div> <div> “We could call the police!” Abbie tried, but the looks she got told her that was definitely not a good idea.</div> <div> “UGH!  I wish we could erase this whole day!”  Dr. Andl thought out loud.</div> <div> “That's it!”  Emma and Jessica wailed.  </div> <div> “Everyone, get your journals and erasers out. Now!” Danielle instructed.  As the words were leaving her mouth, fifth graders started scrambling and then steadfastly erasing everything they had just written in their journals. </div> <div> “I need an eraser!”  Alec blurted.  But was quickly relieved to find 5 erasers landing on his desk.  He erased and erased with the rest of the class, until the school started calming down.  The popping noises faded.  The teacher was forward talking again… and lo and behold, our principal was in his usual conservative dark suit and colorful tie.</div> <div> “Whew.” Walter let out.</div> <div> Dr. Andl nodded in agreement.  “Well, I had better direct that camera crew in here.  Are you ready, Mrs. Toland?”  </div> <div> “Esruoc fo!”</div> <div> “Oh no!” The whole class screamed, clutching their erasers.</div> <div> “I'm just kidding.  Of course I'm ready!”  Mrs. Toland smiled.  “Let the games begin!”</div> <bR> <bR> <div> <I> <A NAME="class_of_2007_acrostic"><IMG BORDER="0" SRC="1x1.gif" HEIGHT="1" ALIGN="bottom" WIDTH="1" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0" ></A></I><I>Class of 2009</I></div> <div> <I>Acrostic Summaries</I></div> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <div> <B><U> <A NAME="class_of_2007_poetry__"><IMG BORDER="0" SRC="1x1.gif" HEIGHT="1" ALIGN="bottom" WIDTH="1" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0" ></A></U></B><B><U>Class of 2009 Poetry</U></B><FONT SIZE="5" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Comic Sans MS" >  </FONT></div> <div> A Grouch Like Me <FONT SIZE="4" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Comic Sans MS" >(Oscar)   </FONT>                              </div> <div>  <FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" >If you wake up in the morning mean and grumpy</FONT></div> <div> And you frown at ev'rybody that you see</div> <div> If you like your oatmeal nice and cold and lumpy</div> <div> Then you're a grouch like me</div> <bR> <div> If you love it when it's wet and cold and raining</div> <div> And the music that you like is all off key</div> <div> If you're happiest whenever you're complaining</div> <div> Then you're a grouch like me</div> <bR> <div> If you hate it when your grandma kisses you</div> <div> You know what? Well me, too!</div> <div> If you love to see a garbage truck roll by</div> <div> You know what? So do I!</div> <div> And if you think a great big pile of trash is pretty</div> <div> And that ice cream is yucchy as can be</div> <div> If you can't stand a cuddly little kitty</div> <div> And you'd like to chase her up the nearest tree</div> <div> Then you can be pretty sure that you're a grouch like me </div> <div>                                              </div> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> A Teacher Like Me!</div> <div>  - Mrs. Toland</div> <div> If you wake up in the morning all excited</div> <div> to see those fresh young faces in front of thee</div> <div> and if you just can't wait to get their minds ignited</div> <div> then you're a teacher like me!</div> <bR> <div> If you love it when your class is all behaving</div> <div> and working hard to do their best ... oh gee!</div> <div> if it's reading books to kids that you are craving</div> <div> then you're a teacher like me!</div> <bR> <div> If you hate it when you hear the words "I can't"</div> <div> Don't let it make you wince and scream and rant</div> <div> If you love to see when kids just try and try</div> <div> You know what? So do I!</div> <div> And if you think that every kid's an author...</div> <div> a math whiz and a scientist trainee</div> <div> You can be pretty sure... that you're..</div> <div> a teacher like me!  </div> <bR> <bR> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div>  <A NAME="the_well_of_sacrifice_"><IMG BORDER="0" SRC="1x1.gif" HEIGHT="1" ALIGN="bottom" WIDTH="1" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0" ></A><A HREF="http://www.chriseboch.com/index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="http://www.chriseboch.com/index.htm"><U>The Well of Sacrifice </U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="http://www.chriseboch.com/index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="http://www.chriseboch.com/index.htm"><U>by Chris Eboch</U></A></div> <bR> <div> Brooke's version of Chapter 21 <U>The Well of Sacrifice</U></div> <div>  </div> <div>      I shivered with fear that I wouldn't get out. But I had to climb the colossal, slippery, lime stone wall. I plunged in the water, so I would get a better clutch on the wall when I jumped out.  I did a prayer so that Small or Smoke Shell's spirit would come and help me. I was scared yet people told me I was brave. I climbed the wall but slipped and then fell into the icey water. A rope was throne down. I was curious if it was the High priest or someone to help me. I tugged on the rope. Someone pulled it. I had heard a voice. </div> <div>                                 '' Grab the rope,'' a voice said quietly yet so I could hear. I called back, ''Who's there?'' the voice answered. ''It's me Small''. I wanted to cry yet I didn't. I could've said nothing and climbed the rope. But if I did it would've died probably if it was Great Skull Zero. </div> <div>                                 I climbed the rope I heard a voice that said, "You made a good friend and slave.'' I was shocked. I said to myself, ''Could it be you?"  It was. It was Smoke Shell's spirit! I was joyous and almost lost my balance. But I caught myself. I made it to the top and small handed me some warm clothes. We ran to my house. I saw my nephew for the first time. The next morning I told the city that Great Skull Zero would be sacrificed. Then Feather Dawn would become queen.</div> <bR> <bR> <bR> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> Ryan's version of Chapter 21 <U>The Well of Sacrifice</U></div> <bR> <bR> <div>      I stealthily grabbed some moss and pulled myself up trying to get a rhythm.  My hand slipped, but I quickly regrouped.  This time I balanced the pressure of my hands and feet trying to slowly get out, even though my hands slipped, but I quickly grabbed some moss, and I yanked it right out of the cracks of the slick wall.</div> <bR> <div>      After trying out about seven different ways, I gave up.  I heard a noise in the well.  It was a skeleton.  It was still decaying.  I heard a noise above.  I yelled out jubilantly, “Smoke Shell, are you there?!”  It was a monkey, but behind the monkey was Small.  I gave a sigh of relief.  He left me treading in the cold and bare water.</div> <bR> <div>      He came back with a rope, but when I was almost there, Great Skull Zero spotted us, striked Small, and cut the rope.  I held on to the only thing I could, moss.  The moss ripped out, and I was left tumbling down the well again awaiting my fate.</div> <bR> <bR> <bR> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> Dominic's version of Chapter 21 <U>The Well of Sacrifice</U></div> <bR> <div>           I let my body float so that I could relax. I knew it would be a viciously long climb to the top. The cold hard rain had ceased and that meant I'd begin to climb. I began to climb tentatively, afraid that I would fall. SWOOSH! UH oh my hand fell! AHH! Now my foot! At that instance I thought of Smokeshell… and I could almost feel his presence.</div> <bR> <div>             “Smokeshell?” I wondered aloud. “ Are you there, is it your spirit?”     </div> <div>              “Yes child it is me, Smokeshell.”</div> <div>               “ But how are you here?" </div> <div>               “ There's no time.” He explained. “I read your letter.”</div> <div>               “Can you please help me.” I begged.       </div> <div>                “ Ok I'll see what I can do.”</div> <div>                 </div> <div>             Then it was as if he had possessed me. I felt like a warrior strong, fast, and more confident. I clawed my way to the top, reaching my destination at dusk. When I was out of the well, I saw Great Skull Zero!</div> <div>              “ I anticipated your survival.” He bragged. “ So I waited to finish you off myself!”</div> <div> Then he lunged at me brutally knocking me into the well. I caught myself on the moist edge.</div> <div>               “ Now I'll finish you!” </div> <div>                “ Nooooooooo!” I pleaded.</div> <div>        </div> <div>                  Suddenly I felt myself again, unpossesed by Smokeshell.</div> <div> I realized what had happened. Great Skull Zero stood ready to push me into the well but Smokeshell's spirit stopped him. I climbed out of the well just in time to see the high priest be unposessed by my brother, miss pushing me in, and diving into the well of sacrifice!  </div> <bR> <div>          </div> <bR> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> Emily's version of Chapter 21 <U>The Well of Sacrifice</U></div> <bR> <div>    There was no hope. It was impossible to get out without sliding down the slippery pit of doom. I was angry that I got myself into this mess but it was better than having guilt on me for the rest of my life.</div> <div>    What was that?! I had heard footsteps...and talking too! The voices sound like Mother and Small.  Are they here to see if I am dead and in the upperworld with Smokeshell?</div> <div>    "Mom! Small! Are you there?" I whispered.</div> <div>    "Eveningstar! Thank goodness you're alive, I was so worried!" Mother said joyfully. "Small brought rope so we can pull you out of there." Mother blurted.</div> <div>    All of a sudden down came the rope and I climbed upward but then slid back down.  I tried again-I made it! I was pleased to see the sun and all of the familiar faces in the plaza. </div> <div>     I knew that if Great Skull Zero saw me I'd be sacrificed right away. </div> <div>    With all of the breath I had left, I crept down the temple steps and ran home as fast as I could.</div> <div>    </div> <bR> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> James's version of Chapter 21 <U>The Well of Sacrifice</U></div> <bR> <div>             <FONT SIZE="3" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" > I thought to climb inconspicuously, but I realized that if I fall I could die from the impact of the water. So I just swam around hitting my head against the wall.</FONT></div> <bR> <div> After a while I just let out a colossal cry,</div> <div> “HELP!” No one heard me thank Ix Chel. I was very stupid when I blurted that out. Great Skull Zero could've heard me.</div> <bR> <div> I started on my arduous journey up the side. Ten times I almost fell but I just got my grip back. I finally reached the top and saw… Great Skull Zero.</div> <div> “So Evening Star you lived?”</div> <div> “Yes I did. So?” I told him in a sassy and worried kind of way.</div> <div> “But you're not going to live this time.” He told me as he picked up an obsidian knife.</div> <div> “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh”</div> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <bR> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> <A HREF="id17.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Meet Your Teacher"><U>Meet Your Teacher</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id18.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Parents Page"><U>Parents' Page</U></A>   |   <B>Class Bulletin Board</B>   |   <A HREF="id20.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Schedule"><U>Schedule</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id23.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Calendar"><U>Calendar</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id24.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Wishlist"><U>Wishlist</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id21.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Selected Links"><U>Selected Links</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id27.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Reports/ Projects"><U>Reports/ Projects</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id22.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Contact Me"><U>Contact Me</U></A>   |   <A HREF="id25.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Kevin Christian"><U>Kevin & Christian</U></A>   <FONT SIZE="4" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Geometr231 BT" ><B> </B></FONT><A HREF="index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Mrs. Tolands Digital Classroom "><U><B>home</B></U></A></div> <bR> </td> </tr></table></body>