“Live Long and Prosper.”
Friday, February 27, 2015
Wednesday, February 25, 2015
Webonauts Internet Academy
Join the Webonauts Internet Academy with me. Complete the missions and become a certified Webonaut. Good luck!
When you have completed your course please record 5 important cybersafety facts you have found out about as evidence. Save your certificate in google drive to add to your CV.
Tuesday, February 24, 2015
Room on the Broom - Video Game Project
Room 17 are making good progress on their lego model broom sticks. Today we plug them into the computer and learnt how the tilt sensor works. We built a practise program and made our sprites move up and down using our models as the controller.
Tuesday, February 17, 2015
Why do we wear the poppy on ANZAC day?
Answer the question in the comments below. When you have completed your research and posted your comment. Use Artrage to draw your own poppy. When finished we will upload the images to this blog.
Wednesday, February 11, 2015
Me Mysterious Me
Add a story about your self that no at school knows. Include a picture of your self.
Tuesday, February 10, 2015
Sunday, February 8, 2015
New HP Chromebooks Arrive
The beginnings of a new way of learning for Forrest Hill School
With the introduction of 1:1 Chromebooks in Room 21 and 2:1 in Rooms 20 and 22 our students are about to embark on a learning journey using Google Apps of Education as a e learning platform.
There will be many new and exciting challenges to be faced in 2015. Let the voyage begin!
Saturday, February 7, 2015
The importance of pace by Phil Powers
I believe in the importance of pace. I grew up in a frenetic household, both parents working jobs that demanded their attention 24/7. I was little and fast and rushed around, and I still have that person inside me, always at risk of moving too quickly, missing the connection, making mistakes.
The forest behind our house offered a peaceful respite. My passion for the vertical world took me from tall trees in my backyard to climbing steep cliffs and crags. As a teen, I was moving easily over the landscapes of the American West and was drawn to higher summits. When I was 19, I learned something called the "rest step" from an old mountain climber named Paul Petzoldt. He advised me to rest in the middle of each step completely, but briefly. The rest step, which I still practice today, allows me to walk or climb with little effort. I can move very quickly yet still find a pause in every step.
The awareness of pace I owe to my teacher has served me whether I am seeking the world's highest summits, sharing my love for the mountains with others or kneeling to look my son, Gus, in the eye when he has a question.
It serves me as I drive, adjusting my speed to gain a bit of calm and reach my destination only minutes behind the "record time" a faster lane might provide. It serves me at home where we maintain a tradition of gathering each night at the dinner table to eat and talk to each other.
In times of crisis, pace comes to my aid. Another of Petzoldt's lessons was when faced with an emergency, sit down, collect yourself, make a plan. When needs seem most urgent — even life-threatening — the practice of slowing down offers calm and clarity.
In 1987, I was in Pakistan to climb Gasherbrum II, one of the world's highest peaks. We were a small group and it was a very big mountain. Our expedition faced more than its share of difficulty: A long storm wiped out most of our food rations and an avalanche devastated our camp, obliterating our tents. One of our party developed altitude sickness; blood poisoning threatened another. In the face of each disaster, we carefully developed a new plan. Snow caves replaced lost tents. Soups replaced full meals. Eventually we climbed slowly to the top, then made our way safely down.
Concentrating on how I move through the world is important. It's why I reach mountain summits and life goals with energy to spare.
There is magic in any faith. Every once in a while, rushing about, my belief in pace rises up, slows me down and grants me a view of a sunset, a smile from a stranger or a conversation with a child. I owe these moments to what I learned from an old mountain climber and have practiced ever since.
The forest behind our house offered a peaceful respite. My passion for the vertical world took me from tall trees in my backyard to climbing steep cliffs and crags. As a teen, I was moving easily over the landscapes of the American West and was drawn to higher summits. When I was 19, I learned something called the "rest step" from an old mountain climber named Paul Petzoldt. He advised me to rest in the middle of each step completely, but briefly. The rest step, which I still practice today, allows me to walk or climb with little effort. I can move very quickly yet still find a pause in every step.
The awareness of pace I owe to my teacher has served me whether I am seeking the world's highest summits, sharing my love for the mountains with others or kneeling to look my son, Gus, in the eye when he has a question.
It serves me as I drive, adjusting my speed to gain a bit of calm and reach my destination only minutes behind the "record time" a faster lane might provide. It serves me at home where we maintain a tradition of gathering each night at the dinner table to eat and talk to each other.
In times of crisis, pace comes to my aid. Another of Petzoldt's lessons was when faced with an emergency, sit down, collect yourself, make a plan. When needs seem most urgent — even life-threatening — the practice of slowing down offers calm and clarity.
In 1987, I was in Pakistan to climb Gasherbrum II, one of the world's highest peaks. We were a small group and it was a very big mountain. Our expedition faced more than its share of difficulty: A long storm wiped out most of our food rations and an avalanche devastated our camp, obliterating our tents. One of our party developed altitude sickness; blood poisoning threatened another. In the face of each disaster, we carefully developed a new plan. Snow caves replaced lost tents. Soups replaced full meals. Eventually we climbed slowly to the top, then made our way safely down.
Concentrating on how I move through the world is important. It's why I reach mountain summits and life goals with energy to spare.
There is magic in any faith. Every once in a while, rushing about, my belief in pace rises up, slows me down and grants me a view of a sunset, a smile from a stranger or a conversation with a child. I owe these moments to what I learned from an old mountain climber and have practiced ever since.
Find the link on thisibelieve.org http://thisibelieve.org/essay/21254/
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| Paul Petzoldt |
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