me just me (:

Friday, November 27, 2009

So many wonderful moments
We have spent together
So many wonderful years
In all kinds of weather

Thinking of you
Brings memories to mind
Memories that are wonderful
And very hard to find

Wonderful moments I will treasure
These you gave me sincerely
That is why
I love you so dearly

Grandpa and grandma

To my Grandfather

One does not have to do anything to become a grandfather. It simply happens when your child has a child. It is up to you to decide how involved you will be in your grandchild's life. There is an inherent biological relationship but the emotional bonding between grandfather and grandchild comes only with effort. It happens when the grandchild sees that you are open to forming a relationship. It happens when you get off your easy chair and make the effort to see what matters to your grandchild.

To my grandmother

A grandmother's job never ends. Many grandmothers in our society step in to raise children when their mother is unavailable. Even in the best of situations, having a grandmother to help with child raising and to provide a softer touch is often a welcome intrusion. The other side of the issue is that grandmothers have to realize when it is time to step back and keep their mouths shut. If there is a healthy father and mother, they are the ones with the final say in how to raise their children.

Friday, October 30, 2009

lam fung in the mines on saturday 24/10/2009 [alicafe & concert in genting]

RAYMOND LAM
sooo cute TAT ><''

RAYMOND LAM
handsome ><''

RAYMOND LAM
awwwwww ><''

RAYMOND LAM
nice poster ^^''

Sunday, October 4, 2009

The Homework Load

Not long ago the homework load,
Did Helen little harm.
She walked to school with one notebook,
Tucked in her little arm.
Homework increased until the girl,
Had no choice but to pack,
Binders and texts into a sack,
She strapped onto her back.
When her spine curved, and her back crooked,
Her shoulders apt to sag.
So Helen took to pulling books,
In a wheeled luggage bag.
As Helen grew, homework did too,
And fourth grade marked the start,
Of pushing homework to and fro,
In a large shopping cart.
Soon tractors towed her homework load.
Still Helen found no luck.
Now forklifts hauled her homework home,
And next a pick-up truck.
But still the work load grew and grew,
And the truck overran.
Sixth grade saw Helen driving home,
In a U-Haul moving van.
Helen’s homework load reached its height,
When school closed in the fall.
For teachers assigned so much work,
Kids couldn't move at all.

The School Day Begins


    It's Monday morning at 7:01.
     You’re still half asleep; your homework’s half done.
     Your shower is cold; your oatmeal’s dry.
     Your mother forgets to kiss you good-bye.
     You’re walking to school; it’s thirty degrees.
     Your fingers won’t work; your toes and ears freeze.
     Your zipper is stuck; your left sneaker squeaks.
    Your backpack strap snaps; your soup thermos leaks.
     You slip on school steps; you trip in the hall.
     The toilet floods in the bathroom stall.
     The gym door is locked; library’s the same.
     The principal greets you by the wrong name.
     Your classroom is hot; the coat rack is packed.
     Your bean sprout is dead; your clay pot is cracked.
     Your pencils are dull; the sharpener jams.
     Your fingers get crunched when your desktop slams.
     Your math partner’s gone; your neighbor is rude.
     Your teacher’s again in a crabby mood.
     The morning bell rings; it is 8:01.
     Come cozy up to the whiteboard,
     Another school day’s begun.