wallaaa...
Wednesday, 16 December 2015
Monday, 14 December 2015
Remove Shortcut virus using CMD
You should proceed this method if the first one doesn’t work. This involves a “command prompt”. Now click “start”, “run”, “type CMD” “type the drive letter of your flash drive or external hard disk and a colon after it “eg F:” Once done type this attribute “attrib f:*.* /d /s -h -r -s”. You should see your files now and Shortcut Virus must be removed.
Please take note the f: after the attrib, change it with your flash disk drive letter; if your flash drive, drive letter is e: then change it with e:.
Retirement
It's not it's knocked up to be,
this thing we look so forward to.
A time of life that's worry free,
so much time and things to do.
But wait a minute, something's wrong,
things aren't as they should be.
The money is short, the month is long,
and so much time on my hands for me.
I'm not as spry as I once was,
a lot of my energy has wasted away.
I have some bad days as everyone does,
and take life as it comes, day by day.
This system is backwards to me it seems,
we should retire first, and work last.
Then in our youth, chase our dreams,
all life's expectations surpassed
this thing we look so forward to.
A time of life that's worry free,
so much time and things to do.
But wait a minute, something's wrong,
things aren't as they should be.
The money is short, the month is long,
and so much time on my hands for me.
I'm not as spry as I once was,
a lot of my energy has wasted away.
I have some bad days as everyone does,
and take life as it comes, day by day.
This system is backwards to me it seems,
we should retire first, and work last.
Then in our youth, chase our dreams,
all life's expectations surpassed
Source: http://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/retirement#ixzz3uMMA0Zdm
#FamilyFriendPoems
STORY 1
Once there was a couple who was very poor. They had a daughter and
lived in a wooden house in the countryside. One night, when the couple was
sleeping soundly, all of a sudden a burglar broke into their house quietly
through the back door. He was wearing a mask.
After taking out a gunny sack, he
began to ransack the house. After searching in vain in the living room, the
burglar sneaked into the daughter's room. The little girl was sleeping soundly,
too. The burglar opened the cupboard and started searching for valuables and
money. He found that there were only some clothes inside the cupboard. He
searched the drawer of a table near the cupboard. He saw a diary which belonged
to the little girl.
Out of curiosity, he decided to read it. On one of the pages,
the girl said that she was an AIDS victim and had only a few more months to
live. Even so, she was not afraid or sad because she had a loving family. Her
parents loved her very much and cared for her a lot. She was glad to be part of
the warm family. Trying to cure her disease or at least to prolong her life,
her parents had used up all their savings. Though she knew that she would not
be able to live long enough to repay her parents' love and kindness, she would
always remember and treasure them when she was in heaven.
The burglar was
deeply moved by the girl's love for her parents, bravery and determination.
Then, he saw a drawing of the girl and her family. Looking at the drawing, he
began to think about his own parents. He remembered the story before he became
a burglar. When he was still schooling, he was weak in his studies. At the age
of 16, things began to go wrong when he got into bad company. He stole, robbed
and even became a drug addict. He quarrel with his parents when he
failed to get money. Then, he decided to move out from his house and live with
the bad company. When his parents found out what he intended to do, they begged
him to stay but he was as stubborn as a donkey. He refused to listen. After he
had started to live with his friends, who were pretty unsavory characters, things
worsened. They committed even more crimes together.
The burglar looked at the
drawing of the loving family and thought about his inglorious past with tearful
eyes. "The unfortunate girl will not live long, yet she's so thankful for
her family. She treasures her parents so much. Instead of complaining about her
incurable disease, she faces it bravely, " thought the burglar, crying
silent tears at the same time. The little girl had inspired him tremendously.
He was remorseful for his wrongdoings and decided to turn over a new leaf and
return to his parents.
Feeling sorry for the girl and her family, he placed a
RM50 bill in her diary. That was all he had. After that, he wrote 'Well done!
You're a very brave girl. Keep fighting - don't let it defeat you.' in the
diary. Then, he left and closed the door behind him quietly.
Good and Bad Teachers
Teaching can without any doubts be called
the leading power of the society’s development. It is well known that there
exist three main factors that influence the development of the personality.
They are: heredity, social encirclement and education. Usually the term
education is used meaning the great impact that parent have on the future
personality of their child. But this also includes school education, because
nowadays, when parents are very busy they are the people, who teach children
what is beautiful and what is ugly, what is right and what is wrong. Through
them children learn to perceive the inner world. And the way they perceive it
depends on the teacher’s personal particularities that are transmitted to
children through interaction and the knowledge that the teacher offers them. A
good teacher is a person who finds individual approach to every pupil, taking
care about the child’s adaptation in class, increasing one’s social status in
class and making sure the children learn to take into account and respect the
thoughts of other people.
Therefore there is much more to a teacher
than high professionalism. What makes kids hardly wait until the lesson starts
in one cases and hating the subject in others? Of course high professionalism
in the field of the taught subject is very important, but when it comes to
being a bad or a good teacher this is not the weightiest factor. A good teacher
is a person who not just reproduces the knowledge he got. Not a person that
only brings up the interest to the subject. It is a person who finds individual
approach to every pupil, taking care about the child’s adaptation in class,
increasing one’s social status in class and making sure the children learn to
take into account and respect the thoughts of other people. It is a man or a
woman that can not “play” the teacher’s role but he in the first place “ a
feeling human being” in front of the students, a person that can show emotional
response. For example, if the teacher is professionally good enough but does
not take critics from the pupils constructively or does not explain why he
thinks he is right this makes a huge gap between the students and the teacher.
And when there is no emotional contact the learning cannot be called
successful, for the students are not completely involved. When the teacher does
not treat students as people that obey him, treats them like they are equal to
him and explains equally to everybody it can really be a pointer of a “good”
teacher. And one other very important thing is creativity.
One of
the indicators of a “good” teacher it is his desire to teach in a new, original
form, adding something new and personal to make the learning process as
exciting as it can possibly be. A bad teacher is a person that focuses only on
the information he provides not taking into account the children or anything.
It is a person that is doing its job. Such a person can be very good in the
theoretical part of his subject but he will never have students being
emotionally attached to him. It is a teacher that lets his personal mood
influence on the way he treats his students, ect. That cannot reduce awkward situations
with humor
either it is him in the situation or his student. Being a good teacher is about
loving children and wanting to give them only the best the teacher has inside
of him.
Tuesday, 20 October 2015
Changing One’s Views
Amanda was the most beautiful child I have ever seen, a
real-life Goldilocks with beautiful ringlets framing her angelic face. Also
incredibly bright, by eighteen months, Amanda spoke full sentences and soon
amassed an impressive vocabulary. Unfortunately, on a frigid Super Bowl Sunday,
Amanda developed a high fever.
Gut-wrenching hours later, after a battery of tests,
Amanda’s doctor delivered the life-changing diagnosis: Amanda had meningitis.
Luckily, Amanda would survive, but she would also slowly lose her hearing,
eventually becoming totally deaf.
Amanda’s parents’ perfect world came crashing down around
them. Her mother, a former university cheerleader, and her father, a premed
student, had to drastically change their lives. Instead of idyllically playing
in the park with their beautiful toddler, they spent every opportunity seeking
out audiologists, speech therapists, and schools for hearing-impaired children.
Amanda’s advanced verbal skills began slipping slowly
away, day by day, sinking her deeper into a world of total silence. When Amanda
would frantically increase the volume on the television up to full blast and
then shout, “TV broken,” her heartbroken parents had no idea how to help. When
her grandparents saw Amanda shake her baby doll and fling it on the floor when
she could no longer hear it cry, they shuddered helplessly. Amanda grew so
frustrated her tantrums were becoming part of everyday life. Their beautiful,
bright, and happy child was rapidly becoming withdrawn and increasingly
depressed.
Specialists recommended teaching Amanda speech to allow
her the best opportunities for independent functioning and for learning how to
read. These experts considered sign language a poor substitute for oral
language development and discouraged Amanda’s parents from taking that route.
Her parents suddenly felt caught in an ongoing “Signing versus Oral” feud, when
they desperately needed a way to communicate with their precious child.
When I became Amanda’s teacher, the initial goal was to
teach her to read lips and develop speech. But when three-year old Amanda sat
in the class circle, her bright eyes trained on me, I realized she was
desperately searching for any clue to decipher what I was saying.
At one point, Amanda jumped up, grabbed my
face in her little hands, and shook it. In her frustration, she seemed to be
saying, “Talk louder, doesn’t your mouth work?”
Since I had never seen a three –year –old want to
communicate as badly as Amanda clearly wanted to, I decided to do what was best
for this child – to teach her sign language immediately. Soon thereafter,
sitting cross-legged on the floor, I held a baby doll and signed “doll” while
saying the word. Amanda quickly signed back, “doll” with a verbal “da.”
Within minutes, we were patrolling the room together,
signing “desk,” “chair,” “blackboard,” “picture,” “chalk,” – literally
everything we could identify and communicate. Amanda became a sponge, learning
sign language faster than I could teach her. By the end of the day, Amanda
could actually sign a few complete sentences.
In Amanda’s case, Total Communication, a teaching method
that included signing, lip reading, and speech, proved the ideal teaching
style. The proof was in the pudding – Amanda adjusted quickly, becoming once
again the happy child her mother and father missed so much. Amanda quickly
picked up new vocabulary as well as speech reading.
Amanda became so excited about words and communication
that she practiced sign language with everyone; she just didn’t realize that
not everyone else in the world signs. Her parents were particularly tickled
when they found her down the on her knees signing to their pet spaniel, “You
want to go outside?”
Soon, we all got swept up in the process, and I began
teaching sign language classes at night for Amanda’s family and friends,
meeting at the local pizza parlor, her parents’ apartment clubhouse, or
sometimes in the park. Amanda’s parents learned to sign her bedtime stories,
her cousins learned how to ask her to play, and her grandparents learned how to
tell her,“ I love you.”
Amanda became a three-year-old rebel with a cause. When a
stranger couldn’t sign, she would place her tiny hands on theirs and literally
shape their hands into letters and words, and, in doing so, this little girl
launched her own private revolution. Each time I taught a class, a new friend
of Amanda’s would show up, recounting a story of how “that special little girl”
had touched his or her life. Each was inspired by her beauty, giftedness, and
tenacity.
“That Amanda is so beautiful,” one of her friends said
one day. I bet she’s going to grow up to be Miss Deaf America.” “That or the
first deaf president,” I answered, winking.
When Amanda’s father was accepted to the Mayo Clinic to
finish his studies the following year, I felt a sharp pang knowing I would
never see Amanda again. But it was not her leaving that would stay with me; it
was her arriving in my life that changed me, and how I would view each of my
students forever.
Amanda taught me to stop asking, “Why am I teaching?” and switch to asking, “How am I teaching?” I began to question whether “tried-and-true”
teaching methods, or even radical new theories, should be blindly accepted as
the most effective way of teaching.
One rainy April afternoon, after a hectic day of teaching
a bunch of bouncing kindergartners, I opened my mailbox and discovered a high
school announcement. Out fell a wallet-sized picture of a beautiful girl –
Amanda! Her hair had turned from golden locks to beautiful brunette waves, but
I could still see the beautiful three-year-old I taught so many years ago. She
added a handwritten letter about her busy life as an honor student and head
cheerleader, and noted that she had been accepted to the University of
Minnesota. Amanda shared that her hearing boyfriend was learning signs as fast
as she had in my classroom, and added that she was running for Miss Deaf
Minnesota. Wiping away my tears, I read her final paragraph:
With graduation coming up, I got out
all my class pictures from all my school years. My favorite was the memory book
you made for me showing my classmates doing all the fun activities you worked
so hard to plan for us, I laugh when I look at the curly haired girl wearing
the huge hearing aids. Can that really be me? I have to admit, my mom and dad
filled me in with most of the memories, but a mood comes over me that takes me
back to when my ears closed and my world became a silent one. I can see you
reaching out your hand; I can hear your hand. Watching your hands make pictures
in the air opened the world back up to me. I just want you to know my world is
a beautiful one and thank you for starting it.
Amanda
had a hand in helping me become the best person and teacher I could be, and, if
all goes well, maybe I will have the opportunity to cast my vote for Amanda as
the first deaf president of the United States.
END
Ps: wohaa! YOU HAVE WASTED 10 MINS OF YOUR
LIFE READING THIS POST.. muahaha (evil laugh) Make sure u got something to repay 10 mins of your life.
Source:
Deb Hurst. (2009). Changing One’s Views
In Joseph W.
Underwood (Ed.).Today I Made a Difference
(pp.97-101). Avon, MA: Adams Media
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)

