Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Hi everybody! How are you? Hope you are all fine and looking forward to welcoming the new year. This will be the last blog post for this year and though I´m still waiting for your reviews :) I´m really happy with this initiative and really grateful to all of you for having shared it with me. 
A new year symbolizes the beginning of a better tomorrow, T.S Eliot said "to make an end is to make a beginning" so I hope this new starting point brings you worth meeting challenges, sheer happiness, lasting peace and unlimited learning. 
It was a pleasure to share this year with you and to count you among my "life teachers and fellow travellers". As I wrote on Facebook some days ago, when I was at the Teacher Training College my leitmotif was "to teach is to touch a life forever" but now that I´m a teacher and that I have the chance to share what I´ve learnt, my leitmotif has changed to "TO TEACH IS TO BE TOUCHED FOREVER".
Let´s open 2012´s book and fill its blank pages with memorable things!
Kisses and cheers!
Romi

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Let´s share a classic GHOST story... boohhhhhh

The Tell-Tale Heart

by Edgar Allen Poe

    TRUE! — nervous — very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but why will you say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened my senses — not destroyed — not dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How, then, am I mad? Hearken! and observe how healthily — how calmly I can tell you the whole story.

    It is impossible to say how first the idea entered my brain; but once conceived, it haunted me day and night. Object there was none. Passion there was none. I loved the old man. He had never wronged me. He had never given me insult. For his gold I had no desire. I think it was his eye! yes, it was this! He had the eye of a vulture — a pale blue eye, with a film over it. Whenever it fell upon me, my blood ran cold; and so by degrees — very gradually — I made up my mind to take the life of the old man, and thus rid myself of the eye forever.

    Now this is the point. You fancy me mad. Madmen know nothing. But you should have seen me. You should have seen how wisely I proceeded — with what caution — with what foresight — with what dissimulation I went to work! I was never kinder to the old man than during the whole week before I killed him. And every night, about midnight, I turned the latch of his door and opened it — oh so gently! And then, when I had made an opening sufficient for my head, I put in a dark lantern, all closed, closed, so that no light shone out, and then I thrust in my head. Oh, you would have laughed to see how cunningly I thrust it in! I moved it slowly — very, very slowly, so that I might not disturb the old man's sleep. It took me an hour to place my whole head within the opening so far that I could see him as he lay upon his bed. Ha! — would a madman have been so wise as this? And then, when my head was well in the room, I undid the lantern cautiously — oh, so cautiously — cautiously (for the hinges creaked) — I undid it just so much that a single thin ray fell upon the vulture eye. And this I did for seven long nights — every night just at midnight — but I found the eye always closed; and so it was impossible to do the work; for it was not the old man who vexed me, but his Evil Eye. And every morning, when the day broke, I went boldly into the chamber, and spoke courageously to him, calling him by name in a hearty tone, and inquiring how he has passed the night. So you see he would have been a very profound old man, indeed, to suspect that every night, just at twelve, I looked in upon him while he slept.

    Upon the eighth night I was more than usually cautious in opening the door. A watch's minute hand moves more quickly than did mine. Never before that night had I felt the extent of my own powers — of my sagacity. I could scarcely contain my feelings of triumph. To think that there I was, opening the door, little by little, and he not even to dream of my secret deeds or thoughts. I fairly chuckled at the idea; and perhaps he heard me; for he moved on the bed suddenly, as if startled. Now you may think that I drew back — but no. His room was as black as pitch with the thick darkness, (for the shutters were close fastened, through fear of robbers,) and so I knew that he could not see the opening of the door, and I kept pushing it on steadily, steadily.

    I had my head in, and was about to open the lantern, when my thumb slipped upon the tin fastening, and the old man sprang up in bed, crying out — "Who's there?"

    I kept quite still and said nothing. For a whole hour I did not move a muscle, and in the meantime I did not hear him lie down. He was still sitting up in the bed listening; — just as I have done, night after night, hearkening to the death watches in the wall.

    Presently I heard a slight groan, and I knew it was the groan of mortal terror. It was not a groan of pain or of grief — oh, no! — it was the low stifled sound that arises from the bottom of the soul when overcharged with awe. I knew the sound well. Many a night, just at midnight, when all the world slept, it has welled up from my own bosom, deepening, with its dreadful echo, the terrors that distracted me. I say I knew it well. I knew what the old man felt, and pitied him, although I chuckled at heart. I knew that he had been lying awake ever since the first slight noise, when he had turned in the bed. His fears had been ever since growing upon him. He had been trying to fancy them causeless, but could not. He had been saying to himself — "It is nothing but the wind in the chimney — it is only a mouse crossing the floor," or "it is merely a cricket which has made a single chirp." Yes, he had been trying to comfort himself with these suppositions: but he had found all in vain. All in vain;because Death, in approaching him had stalked with his black shadow before him, and enveloped the victim. And it was the mournful influence of the unperceived shadow that caused him to feel — although he neither saw nor heard — to feel the presence of my head within the room.

    When I had waited a long time, very patiently, without hearing him lie down, I resolved to open a little — a very, very little crevice in the lantern. So I opened it — you cannot imagine how stealthily, stealthily — until, at length a single dim ray, like the thread of the spider, shot from out the-crevice [[the crevice]] and fell full upon the vulture eye.

    It was open — wide, wide open — and I grew furious as I gazed upon it. I saw it with perfect distinctness — all a dull blue, with a hideous veil over it that chilled the very marrow in my bones; but I could see nothing else of the old man's face or person: for I had directed the ray as if by instinct, precisely upon the damned spot.

    And have I not told you that what you mistake for madness is but over acuteness of the senses? — now, I say, there came to my ears a low, dull, quick sound, such as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton. I knew that sound well, too. It was the beating of the old man's heart. It increased my fury, as the beating of a drum stimulates the soldier into courage.

    But even yet I refrained and kept still. I scarcely breathed. I held the lantern motionless. I tried how steadily I could maintain the ray upon the eye. Meantime the hellish tattoo of the heart increased. It grew quicker and quicker, and louder and louder every instant. The old man's terror must have been extreme! It grew louder, I say, louder every moment! — do you mark me well? I have told you that I am nervous: so I am. And now at the dead hour of the night, amid the dreadful silence of that old house, so strange a noise as this excited me to uncontrollable terror. Yet, for some minutes longer I refrained and stood still. But the beating grew louder, louder! I thought the heart must burst. And now a new anxiety seized me — the sound would be heard by a neighbour! The old man's hour had come! With a loud yell, I threw open the lantern and leaped into the room. He shrieked once — once only. In an instant I dragged him to the floor, and pulled the heavy bed over him. I then smiled gaily, to find the deed so far done. But, for many minutes, the heart beat on with a muffled sound. This, however, did not vex me; it would not be heard through the wall. At length it ceased. The old man was dead. I removed the bed and examined the corpse. Yes, he was stone, stone dead. I placed my hand upon the heart and held it there many minutes. There was no pulsation. He was stone dead. His eye would trouble me no more.

    If still you think me mad, you will think so no longer when I describe the wise precautions I took for the concealment of the body. The night waned, and I worked hastily, but in silence. First of all I dismembered the corpse. I cut off the head and the arms and the legs.

    I then took up three planks from the flooring of the chamber, and deposited all between the scantlings. I then replaced the boards so cleverly, so cunningly, that no human eye — not even his — could have detected any thing wrong. There was nothing to wash out — no stain of any kind — no blood-spot whatever. I had been too wary for that. A tub had caught all — ha! ha!

    When I had made an end of these labors, it was four o'clock — still dark as midnight. As the bell sounded the hour, there came a knocking at the street door. I went down to open it with a light heart, — for what had I now to fear? There entered three men, who introduced themselves, with perfect suavity, as officers of the police. A shriek had been heard by a neighbour during the night; suspicion of foul play had been aroused; information had been lodged at the police office, and they (the officers) had been deputed to search the premises.

    I smiled, — for what had I to fear? I bade the gentlemen welcome. The shriek, I said, was my own in a dream. The old man, I mentioned, was absent in the country. I took my visitors all over the house. I bade them search — search well. I led them, at length, to his chamber. I showed them his treasures, secure, undisturbed. In the enthusiasm of my confidence, I brought chairs into the room, and desired them here to rest from their fatigues, while I myself, in the wild audacity of my perfect triumph, placed my own seat upon the very spot beneath which reposed the corpse of the victim.

    The officers were satisfied. My manner had convinced them. I was singularly at ease. They sat, and while I answered cheerily, they chatted of familiar things. But, ere long, I felt myself getting pale and wished them gone. My head ached, and I fancied a ringing in my ears: but still they sat and still chatted. The ringing became more distinct: — it continued and became more distinct: I talked more freely to get rid of the feeling: but it continued and gained definiteness — until, at length, I found that the noise was not within my ears.

    No doubt I now grew very pale; — but I talked more fluently, and with a heightened voice. Yet the sound increased — and what could I do? It was a low, dull, quick sound — much such a sound as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton. I gasped for breath — and yet the officers heard it not. I talked more quickly — more vehemently; but the noise steadily increased. I arose and argued about trifles, in a high key and with violent gesticulations; but the noise steadily increased. Why would they not be gone? I paced the floor to and fro with heavy strides, as if excited to fury by the observations of the men — but the noise steadily increased. Oh God! what could I do? I foamed — I raved — I swore! I swung the chair upon which I had been sitting, and grated it upon the boards, but the noise arose over all and continually increased. It grew louder — louder — louder!And still the men chatted pleasantly, and smiled. Was it possible they heard not? Almighty God! — no, no! They heard! — they suspected! — they knew! — they were making a mockery of my horror! — this I thought, and this I think. But anything was better than this agony! Anything was more tolerable than this derision! I could bear those hypocritical smiles no longer! I felt that I must scream or die! — and now — again! — hark! louder! louder! louder! louder! —

    "Villains!" I shrieked, "dissemble no more! I admit the deed! — tear up the planks! — here, here! — it is the beating of his hideous heart!"

Happy Mother's day to our mums!

Just some lines to share with you the feeling I get whenever I think of my mother :)

Having a mother like my mother while growing up was the greatest gift and biggest advantage anyone could ever have given me. It is because of the confidence and values that she has instilled in me that made me who I am today. I want to thank her for shaping me into a person who I like and am proud to be. I also want to thank her for letting me believe that I could be whoever I wanted to be, do whatever I wanted to do, there were no limitations except our drive, ambition and creativity.

Aprovechemos este día Domingo para recordarle a nuestra mamá lo importante que es en nuestras vidas, todo lo que aprendemos de sus aciertos y cuanto más de sus errores, todo lo que nos hace falta por más que la tengamos al lado y el eterno agradecimiento por habernos dado VIDA... honremos nuestra vida dándole un gran beso y siempre recordando (y lo digo como madre que soy :)) que SIEMPRE, SIEMPRE SIEMPRE HACEN LO MEJOR QUE PUEDEN.
Feliz día para todas nuestras mamás!

Josefina, me :), Paula and MY MUM!

Happy Student 's Day to all of you!

Albert Einstein once said "learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow. The important thing is to not stop questioning." Thanks for letting me be a "guide" in your language learning process and thanks for being my guides in the life learning process.

Kisses and do go for a picnic to celebrate this beautiful Spring day!

As a present, here goes a very nice poem written by a teacher to some parents (make it yours!)

Dear Parents,

I give you back your child, the same child you confidently entrusted to my care last fall. I give her back a few pounds heavier, inches taller, months wiser, more responsible, and more mature then she was then.

Although she would have attained her growth in spite of me, it has been my pleasure and privilege to watch her personality unfold day by day and marvel at this splendid miracle of development.

I give her back reluctantly, for having spent nine months together in the narrow confines of a crowded classroom, we have grown close, have become a part of each other, and we shall always retain a little of each other.

Ten years from now if we met on the street, your child and I, a light will shine to our eyes, a smile to our lips, and we shall feel the bond of understanding once more, this bond we feel today.

We have lived, loved, laughed, played, studied, learned, and enriched our lives together this year. I wish it could go on indefinitely, but give her back I must. Take care of her, for she is precious.

Remember that I shall always be interested in your child and her destiny, wherever she goes, whatever she does, whoever she becomes. Her joys and sorrows, I’ll be happy to share.

I shall always be her friend.

Guess what...

I'm still waiting for your reviews and contributions, jajajaja

Kisses,

Romi

Let´s share our ideas about....

I´ve decided to launch our "Cinemaniacs". What's it about? Films. What are you supposed to do? Watch a film and post a review in this blog. The idea is to try to watch and review as many films as possible, and also to foster discussion about them.
By March 2012, the person who's watched and reviewed more films will get a prize. So, let's start watching films.

Looking forward to sharing!

Thanks for sharing, Marina!

Well, it was time, so here is my contribution. This is the perfect song to hear on this Monday evening that tastes like Sunday. Just try the following link http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VCokhCqK9rw&ob=av2e

I'll expect your comments and if you enjoy it... she's coming to Argentina in November! :) Kisses! Marina Bugnon Valdano

Igniting the flames...(Do I sound arsonist :)?)

No, I´m not an arson but... our flames need to be ignited quickly. All of you have shared with me the strong desire to participate in this new project and... and?? That is what I´m asking myself, "and?" Come on, pluck courage and just go to "Access", "New post" and let it happen!

"Let it be," The Beatles would say and remember what Coldplay affirms "lights will guide you home."

Looking forward to reading you all!

Kisses and see you soon

Romi

LET´S FUEL THE FLAMES TOGETHER!

Most of you already knew about my new project and finally, here we are... Blogging! This is a new "window" I´m opening for all of us to share, communicate, learn and create. What could be better than being authors and creators of our own learning process?

This is OUR blog, a space that will grow thanks to the nourishment of our contributions, a window that will always be open due to the constant knowledge sharing, a page that will be ornamented with words, expressions and thoughts with the purpose of enriching our knowledge and souls.

Bhuda once said "Thousands of candles can be lit from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened.Happiness never decreases by being shared." Help me shed light on this new experience and remember that together we can FUEL THE FLAMES OF ENHANCEMENT.

So, let´s start by... Blogging! Who dares break the silence? Come on, pluck courage and share something with all of us. First come, first served and the early bird catches the worm :)

Read you around!

Romina