Our Art this week was inspired by the works of Vasily Kandinsky. Kandinsky had a huge influence on the course of modern art. We focused on bright colours, bold lines and abstract shapes, while also including some hidden elements to our paintings.
Monday, November 29, 2010
Friday, November 26, 2010
Swan Lake
Well done to Grace Allen who is performing in the Cork City Ballet's production of Swan Lake in the Opera House this week. It is an outstanding show and Grace has spent many hours rehearsing. Grace has been dancing since she was 2 years old and all her hard work is certainly paying off. Well done again!
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Dad, by Ronan Daly
Dad
That morning my biggest regret, the shadow that looms over me, keeping me cold and distant. Mom says its like the lights in my eyes have winked out. I slowly move away from her like I'm slowly dying inside, she desperately tries to bring the lights back but I know they're gone forever.
The alarm buzzes. I drag myself out of my slumber and turn over to see the clock, it reads 7:00 in the morning, a dreaded time for me. I haul my self out of bed and get dressed. A groggy walk down the stairs leads me to the kitchen and my Dad reading the morning newspaper." Mornin' " he says to me. I grunt in response. For breakfast soggy cornflakes and burnt toast. "Is that a way to talk to your father" he remarks."Who cares" I mutter in response. Suddenly a huge argument breaks out and we're screaming at each other, I grab my bag and storm out the door. I stomp to school but by the time I've gotten there I've cooled off. I decide to say sorry to him when he gets home from work.
The day is pretty normal at first, maths in the morning, Irish afterwards but during first lunch the teacher takes me out of the classroom. Solemnly she mutters "Theres been an accident". The teacher stared at me and I felt my eyes well up with tears.
From there it starts to blur, I can remember the teacher telling me what happened; my Dad had been in a car crash and was in a critical state at hospital , but not much else. My memory picks up with me sobbing next to his hospital bed, after a while a puddle forms by my feet. They've kept him alive, barely.He could pass away at any moment so these could be my last few minutes with him
My mind flashes back to a day at the beach. I've always hated the beach but this is one of my favorite times there. i was lying on a towel trying to make the time spent there shorter, none of us were really enjoying it. My dad noticed this and sneaked off,when he returned his arms were filled with ice creams for the whole family. Clever old dad he always knew how to cheer us up.
I took my eyes away from the ice creams and focused on his face, he smiled at me and outreached his hand and gave me my favorite ice cream.
After I had finished the ice cream he brought me for a swim and we splashed and dived until it was time to go home. We returned happily tired. My great old dad had turned a boring day into a brilliant one but now he's on a hospital bed and the last memory he has of me is a horrible one.I wish I could change this with all my heart. I can only hope he survives.
Again my mind regresses to a time my dad helped me out. On the way home from school I had been pushed around by some teenagers who had taken my bag and torn my books to pieces . I arrived home bruised and battered but my dad was there for me. He gave me a cold cloth to put on my wounds but the real comfort came from his words, he told me everything would be ok and quelled all my fears. He made me feel safe and happy and eventually I recovered.
I was always so ungrateful, if I could go back in time I would treat him better, I would try so hard to be a good son but I can't go back in time, all I can do is wait. i stared at his still face, the monitor said he was alive but he didn't look it. I whispered in his ear "I love you" and the green line that showed his heartbeat went flat.
The alarm buzzes. I drag myself out of my slumber and turn over to see the clock, it reads 7:00 in the morning, a dreaded time for me. I haul my self out of bed and get dressed. A groggy walk down the stairs leads me to the kitchen and my Dad reading the morning newspaper." Mornin' " he says to me. I grunt in response. For breakfast soggy cornflakes and burnt toast. "Is that a way to talk to your father" he remarks."Who cares" I mutter in response. Suddenly a huge argument breaks out and we're screaming at each other, I grab my bag and storm out the door. I stomp to school but by the time I've gotten there I've cooled off. I decide to say sorry to him when he gets home from work.
The day is pretty normal at first, maths in the morning, Irish afterwards but during first lunch the teacher takes me out of the classroom. Solemnly she mutters "Theres been an accident". The teacher stared at me and I felt my eyes well up with tears.
From there it starts to blur, I can remember the teacher telling me what happened; my Dad had been in a car crash and was in a critical state at hospital , but not much else. My memory picks up with me sobbing next to his hospital bed, after a while a puddle forms by my feet. They've kept him alive, barely.He could pass away at any moment so these could be my last few minutes with him
My mind flashes back to a day at the beach. I've always hated the beach but this is one of my favorite times there. i was lying on a towel trying to make the time spent there shorter, none of us were really enjoying it. My dad noticed this and sneaked off,when he returned his arms were filled with ice creams for the whole family. Clever old dad he always knew how to cheer us up.
I took my eyes away from the ice creams and focused on his face, he smiled at me and outreached his hand and gave me my favorite ice cream.
After I had finished the ice cream he brought me for a swim and we splashed and dived until it was time to go home. We returned happily tired. My great old dad had turned a boring day into a brilliant one but now he's on a hospital bed and the last memory he has of me is a horrible one.I wish I could change this with all my heart. I can only hope he survives.
Again my mind regresses to a time my dad helped me out. On the way home from school I had been pushed around by some teenagers who had taken my bag and torn my books to pieces . I arrived home bruised and battered but my dad was there for me. He gave me a cold cloth to put on my wounds but the real comfort came from his words, he told me everything would be ok and quelled all my fears. He made me feel safe and happy and eventually I recovered.
I was always so ungrateful, if I could go back in time I would treat him better, I would try so hard to be a good son but I can't go back in time, all I can do is wait. i stared at his still face, the monitor said he was alive but he didn't look it. I whispered in his ear "I love you" and the green line that showed his heartbeat went flat.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Púca's First Reading. [A short story by Louise Coughlan]
Louise's friends are in the habit of calling her by the nickname Mary. I'm sure you have all heard of Mary and her little lamb? Everywhere Mary went her lamb was sure to go, well every Louise goes her puppy is sure to go too!
He has a fluffy, soft, crisp white coat, sparkly brown eyes and a nose as black as coal. His coat is so white they decided to call him Púca because he is like a little ghost, but not a scary one of course!
Let me tell you the story from the beginning. One Sunday, Louise's mom, dad and sisters went to Sunday mass. They rushed to mass because they were running late. Louise's dad was last out and he left the gate ajar because he had to go somewhere important straight after mass.
Little did they know that Púca sneaked out the back door when mom was putting out the laundry on the clothes line in the backgarden. He pranced around the backgarden waiting for the great escape.
Meanwhile Louise and her family were settling into their seats for a long ceremony, afterall it was Palm Sunday! The priest started reading the gospel when all of a sudden the congregation at the rear end of the church started giggling. Louise and her family were wondering what was the commotion all about. One by one everyone started turning their heads, pointing and whispering.
"What was going on?" said Louise's mom.
Louise said to herself "OH MY GOD!"
"Were my eyes deceiving me?" she wondered.
There he was perched on the alter, it was Púca! Her family were so embarrassed. If the ground could have swallowed them up at that very moment, they would have welcomed it. The more the people laughed the more animated he got.
Louise's sister Roz said "You go get him Lou"
Then her dad said "well Louise he is your dog and your responsibility you have to go get him".
She said "please don't make me go up there i'll mortify myself."
Off Louise went to do the walk of shame, but the minute púca saw her he started tiptoeing away. Louise slowly walked towards him. Suddenly Púca ran for his life and started biting Fr. Bobs trousers!
I shouted "Púca stop".
Púca jumped out of his skin and climbed onto the microphone stand
And barked "WOOF ROFF WUFF RUFF"
He said it as if he was saying a prayer or a reading, and the people were crying tears of laughter. He was so funny!
He was standing up tall when he stumbled upon the stand but got back up again. Just then he sniffed something funny- it was the holy bread! He slowly walked towards the holy bread and started chewing it. The priests face dropped. You could see by his expression he was suffering from shock! When púca started choking he saw the water and the wine and made a beeline for it. He was so thirsty. While he was distracted I grabbed him, much to Fr. Bob's relief!
Fr. Bob mimed to me "Thank you".
With that there was a round of applause from the congregation. The priest walked up to the microphone and said "I would like to welcome Púca, one of gods little creatures to his first mass and congratulate him on his first reading! And half joking, half earnest "We hope to see him again in the future!"
The moral of the story is God welcomes any of His creatures to his home no matter how boisterous they are!
He has a fluffy, soft, crisp white coat, sparkly brown eyes and a nose as black as coal. His coat is so white they decided to call him Púca because he is like a little ghost, but not a scary one of course!
Let me tell you the story from the beginning. One Sunday, Louise's mom, dad and sisters went to Sunday mass. They rushed to mass because they were running late. Louise's dad was last out and he left the gate ajar because he had to go somewhere important straight after mass.
Little did they know that Púca sneaked out the back door when mom was putting out the laundry on the clothes line in the backgarden. He pranced around the backgarden waiting for the great escape.
Meanwhile Louise and her family were settling into their seats for a long ceremony, afterall it was Palm Sunday! The priest started reading the gospel when all of a sudden the congregation at the rear end of the church started giggling. Louise and her family were wondering what was the commotion all about. One by one everyone started turning their heads, pointing and whispering.
"What was going on?" said Louise's mom.
Louise said to herself "OH MY GOD!"
"Were my eyes deceiving me?" she wondered.
There he was perched on the alter, it was Púca! Her family were so embarrassed. If the ground could have swallowed them up at that very moment, they would have welcomed it. The more the people laughed the more animated he got.
Louise's sister Roz said "You go get him Lou"
Then her dad said "well Louise he is your dog and your responsibility you have to go get him".
She said "please don't make me go up there i'll mortify myself."
Off Louise went to do the walk of shame, but the minute púca saw her he started tiptoeing away. Louise slowly walked towards him. Suddenly Púca ran for his life and started biting Fr. Bobs trousers!
I shouted "Púca stop".
Púca jumped out of his skin and climbed onto the microphone stand
And barked "WOOF ROFF WUFF RUFF"
He said it as if he was saying a prayer or a reading, and the people were crying tears of laughter. He was so funny!
He was standing up tall when he stumbled upon the stand but got back up again. Just then he sniffed something funny- it was the holy bread! He slowly walked towards the holy bread and started chewing it. The priests face dropped. You could see by his expression he was suffering from shock! When púca started choking he saw the water and the wine and made a beeline for it. He was so thirsty. While he was distracted I grabbed him, much to Fr. Bob's relief!
Fr. Bob mimed to me "Thank you".
With that there was a round of applause from the congregation. The priest walked up to the microphone and said "I would like to welcome Púca, one of gods little creatures to his first mass and congratulate him on his first reading! And half joking, half earnest "We hope to see him again in the future!"
The moral of the story is God welcomes any of His creatures to his home no matter how boisterous they are!
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Monday, November 8, 2010
Bookweek buddies
Our 6th class buddied up to read with Mr. Foleys 3rd class today for bookweek. We had a really nice time.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Bookfair is on the way...
Lets celebrate reading at our bookfair party from Monday 8th to Friday 12th November. You can choose from hundreds of books for ages 2-12. Every book you buy helps us to earn free books for our library and classrooms. With your support we can develop our children's literacy and encourage a lifelong love of reading. Thanks!
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