hallo, good night reader :D

ah, I'm in love with Felt :P

really like to make something from felt

i spent my weekend to make Felt

but I really happpppppppyyyyyyyyyyyyy

and this one, I put my modem in :D

and this one is my notebook :D

taraaaaaaaaaaaam ^+^

my felt doll for my beloved friend wedding 

hope she'll like it 

and this one :D

wearing BATIK 

but there's a mistake on her cheek :(
I put blush on too much :(

FELT

hei, it's been a long time I didn't visit my Blog ^_^

I want to post some pictures

yeh,,,, those are my new hobby :D

really happy to make it, even got tired

I'm proud enough  :)

it makes from FELT :D
just add  your creativity and................patience :D



and this is the second 

and this is my next project ^_^

traditional "kembang goyang" pastries

in this modern era, there are so many pastries. in many pastries shop you can meet so many tempting pastries

pictures above are examples of modern pastries. but do you know?

there is an unique traditional pastrie that so delicious 

it is "KEMBANG GOYANG" 

Kembang Goyang is a traditional pastrie that came from jakarta, from Betawi culture. 

the materials to make this pastrie are not hard. we can find it easily

the materials to make KEMBANG GOYANG are:

1. flour

2. eggs

3. sugar

4. red pasta (food coloring)

and after mix all of the materials, you have to fried it with a tool to make it

u can buy that tool in traditional market

hmmm....

see delicious, it is not?

you wanna try to make this?

you heve to have large amount of patience (◦'⌣'◦ )

how to apply eyeliner

every girl always want to be beauty. They usually make up their face with many kinds of cosmetics like eyeshadow, blush-on, lipstick, compact powder, and many more. but, there are some girl like to make up around her eyes especially who have "narrow eyes". they apply eyeliner to make their eyes look bigger. but, in fact, for the beginner, eyeliner is difficult to apply her self in eyes. eyeliner have different type; liquid, pencil, or eyeliner brush. 

1. If you use a pencil, set the line with eyeshadow because penciled lines tend to melt and won't stay put all day.

2. to apply liquid eyeliner, line the eye from the inside of the lashes outward in one big sweep. you need a steady hand. apply by brushing short stroke close to the lash line. start at the middle of the eye.

let's try :)

CHARLES AND THE PLOT OVERVIEW

CHARLES by Shirley Jackson

      The day my son Laurie started kindergarten he renounced corduroy overalls with

bibs and began wearing blue jeans with a belt; I watched him go off the first morning

with the older girl next door, seeing clearly that an era of my life was ended, my sweetvoiced nursery-school tot replaced by a long-trousered, swaggering character who forgot to stop at the corner and wave good-bye to me.

      He came running home the same way, the front door slamming open, his cap on

the floor, and the voice suddenly become raucous shouting, “Isn’t anybody here?”

      At lunch he spoke insolently to his father, spilled his baby sister’s milk, and

remarked that his teacher said we were not to take the name of the Lord in vain.

      “How was school today?” I asked, elaborately casual.

      “All right,” he said.

      “Did you learn anything?” his father asked.

      Laurie regarded his father coldly. “I didn’t learn nothing,” he said.

      “Anything,” I said. “Didn’t lean anything.”

      “The teacher spanked a boy, though,” Laurie said, addressing his bread and butter.

“For being fresh,” he added, with his mouth full.

      “What did he do?” I asked. “Who was it?”

      Laurie thought. “It was Charles,” he said. “He was fresh. The teacher spanked

him and made him stand in the corner. He was awfully fresh.”

      “What did he do?” I asked again, but Laurie slid off his chair, took a cookie, and

left, while his father was still saying, “See here, young man.”

      The next day Laurie remarked at lunch, as soon as he sat down, “Well, Charles

was bad again today.” He grinned enormously and said, “Today Charles hit the teacher.”

      “Good heavens,” I said, mindful of the Lord’s name, “I suppose he got spanked

again?”

      “He sure did,” Laurie said. “Look up,” he said to his father.

      “What?” his father said, looking up.

      “Look down,” Laurie said. “Look at my thumb. Gee, you’re dumb.” He began

to laugh insanely.

      “Why did Charles hit the teacher?” I asked quickly.

      “Because she tried to make him color with red crayons,” Laurie said. “Charles

wanted to color with green crayons so he hit the teacher and she spanked him and said

nobody play with Charles but everybody did.”

      The third day—it was a Wednesday of the first week—Charles bounced a see-saw

on to the head of a little girl and made her bleed, and the teacher made him stay inside all

during recess. Thursday Charles had to stand in a corner during story-time because he

kept pounding his feet on the floor. Friday Charles was deprived of black-board

privileges because he threw chalk.

      On Saturday I remarked to my husband, “Do you think kindergarten is too

unsettling for Laurie? All this toughness and bad grammar, and this Charles boy sounds

like such a bad influence.”

      “It’ll be alright,” my husband said reassuringly. “Bound to be people like Charles

in the world. Might as well meet them now as later.”

      On Monday Laurie came home late, full of news. “Charles,” he shouted as he

came up the hill; I was waiting anxiously on the front steps. “Charles,” Laurie yelled all

the way up the hill, “Charles was bad again.”

      “Come right in,” I said, as soon as he came close enough. “Lunch is waiting.”

      “You know what Charles did?” he demanded following me through the door.

      “Charles yelled so in school they sent a boy in from first grade to tell the teacher she had to make Charles keep quiet, and so Charles had to stay after school. And so all the

children stayed to watch him.

      “What did he do?” I asked.

      “He just sat there,” Laurie said, climbing into his chair at the table. “Hi, Pop,

y’old dust mop.”

      “Charles had to stay after school today,” I told my husband. “Everyone stayed

with him.”

      “What does this Charles look like?” my husband asked Laurie. “What’s his other

name?”

      “He’s bigger than me,” Laurie said. “And he doesn’t have any rubbers and he

doesn’t wear a jacket.”

      Monday night was the first Parent-Teachers meeting, and only the fact that the

baby had a cold kept me from going; I wanted passionately to meet Charles’s mother. On

Tuesday Laurie remarked suddenly, “Our teacher had a friend come to see her in school

today.”

      “Charles’s mother?” my husband and I asked simultaneously.

      “Naaah,” Laurie said scornfully. “It was a man who came and made us do

exercises, we had to touch our toes. Look.” He climbed down from his chair and

squatted down and touched his toes. “Like this,” he said. He got solemnly back into his

chair and said, picking up his fork, “Charles didn’t even do exercises.”

      “That’s fine,” I said heartily. “Didn’t Charles want to do exercises?”

      “Naaah,” Laurie said. “Charles was so fresh to the teacher’s friend he wasn’t let

do exercises.”

      “Fresh again?” I said.

      “He kicked the teacher’s friend,” Laurie said. “The teacher’s friend just told

Charles to touch his toes like I just did and Charles kicked him.

      “What are they going to do about Charles, do you suppose?” Laurie’s father

asked him.

      Laurie shrugged elaborately. “Throw him out of school, I guess,” he said.

      Wednesday and Thursday were routine; Charles yelled during story hour and hit a

boy in the stomach and made him cry. On Friday Charles stayed after school again and

so did all the other children.

      With the third week of kindergarten Charles was an institution in our family; the

baby was being a Charles when she cried all afternoon; Laurie did a Charles when he

filled his wagon full of mud and pulled it through the kitchen; even my husband, when he

caught his elbow in the telephone cord and pulled the telephone and a bowl of flowers off

the table, said, after the first minute, “Looks like Charles.”

      During the third and fourth weeks it looked like a reformation in Charles; Laurie

reported grimly at lunch on Thursday of the third week, “Charles was so good today the

teacher gave him an apple.”

      “What?” I said, and my husband added warily, “You mean Charles?”

      “Charles,” Laurie said. “He gave the crayons around and he picked up the books

afterward and the teacher said he was her helper.”

      “What happened?” I asked incredulously.

      “He was her helper, that’s all,” Laurie said, and shrugged.

      “Can this be true about Charles?” I asked my husband that night. “Can something

like this happen?”

      “Wait and see,” my husband said cynically. “When you’ve got a Charles to deal

with, this may mean he’s only plotting.” He seemed to be wrong. For over a week

Charles was the teacher’s helper; each day he handed things out and he picked things up;

no one had to stay after school.

      “The PTA meeting’s next week again,” I told my husband one evening. “I’m

going to find Charles’s mother there.”

      “Ask her what happened to Charles,” my husband said. “I’d like to know.”

      “I’d like to know myself,” I said.

      On Friday of that week things were back to normal. “You know what Charles did

today?” Laurie demanded at the lunch table, in a voice slightly awed. “He told a little

girl to say a word and she said it and the teacher washed her mouth out with soap and

Charles laughed.”

      “What word?” his father asked unwisely, and Laurie said, “I’ll have to whisper it

to you, it’s so bad.” He got down off his chair and went around to his father. His father

bent his head down and Laurie whispered joyfully. His father’s eyes widened.

      “Did Charles tell the little girls to say that?” he asked respectfully.

      “She said it twice,” Laurie said. “Charles told her to say it twice.”

      “What happened to Charles?” my husband asked.

      “Nothing,” Laurie said. “He was passing out the crayons.”

      Monday morning Charles abandoned the little girl and said the evil word himself

three or four times, getting his mouth washed out with soap each time. He also threw

chalk.

      My husband came to the door with me that evening as I set out for the PTA

meeting. “Invite her over for a cup of tea after the meeting,” he said. “I want to get a

look at her.”

      “If only she’s there.” I said prayerfully.

      “She’ll be there,” my husband said. “I don’t see how they could hold a PTA

meeting without Charles’s mother.”

      At the meeting I sat restlessly, scanning each comfortable matronly face, trying to

determine which one hid the secret of Charles. None of them looked to me haggard

enough. No one stood up in the meeting and apologized for the way her son had been

acting. No one mentioned Charles.

      After the meeting I identified and sought out Laurie’s kindergarten teacher. She

had a plate with a cup of tea and a piece of chocolate cake; I had a plate with a cup of tea

and a piece of marshmallow cake. We maneuvered up to one another cautiously, and

smiled.

      “I’ve been so anxious to meet you,” I said. “I’m Laurie’s mother.”

      “We’re all so interested in Laurie,” she said.

      “Well, he certainly likes kindergarten,” I said. “He talks about it all the time.”

      “We had a little trouble adjusting, the first week or so,” she said primly, “but now

he’s a fine helper. With occasional lapses, of course.”

      “Laurie usually adjusts very quickly,” I said. “I suppose this time it’s Charles’s

influence.”

      “Charles?”

      “Yes,” I said, laughing, “you must have your hands full in that kindergarten, with

Charles.”

      “Charles?” she said. “We don’t have any Charles in the kindergarten.”

PLOT OVERVIEW 

1. exposition :  The day Laurie started kindergarten he renounced corduroy overalls with

bibs and began wearing blue jeans with a belt; his mother watched him go off the first morning

with the older girl next door, seeing clearly that an era of her life was ended,her sweetvoiced nursery-school tot replaced by a long-trousered, swaggering character who forgot to stop at the corner and wave good-bye to her.

2. complication :  He came running home the same way, the front door slamming open, his cap on

the floor, and the voice suddenly become raucous shouting, “Isn’t anybody here?", At lunch he spoke insolently to his father, spilled his baby sister’s milk, and

remarked that his teacher said we were not to take the name of the Lord in vain. Laurie was begin to tell CHARLES to his parents. he told that Charles is really fresh boy in his class. the teacher often spanked Charles because Charles's naughtiness

3. Crisis :  On Saturday Laurie's mother remarked to her husband that kindergarten is too

unsettling for Laurie. All toughness and bad grammar, and Charles boy sounds

like such a bad influence.” her husband said reassuringly. “Bound to be people like Charles

in the world. Might as well meet them now as later.”

4. conflict : Monday night was the first Parent-Teachers meeting, and only the fact that the

baby had a cold kept Laurie's mother from going; she wanted passionately to meet Charles’s mother. On

Tuesday Laurie remarked suddenly, “Our teacher had a friend come to see her in school

today.” made us do exercises, we had to touch our toes. Look.” He climbed down from his chair and

squatted down and touched his toes. He got solemnly back into his

chair and said, picking up his fork, “Charles didn’t even do exercises. He kicked the teacher’s friend. With the third week of kindergarten Charles was an institution in our family; the

baby was being a Charles when she cried all afternoon; Laurie did a Charles when he

filled his wagon full of mud and pulled it through the kitchen; even my husband, when he

caught his elbow in the telephone cord and pulled the telephone and a bowl of flowers off

the table, said, after the first minute, “Looks like Charles.” During the third and fourth weeks it looked like a reformation in Charles; Laurie reported grimly at lunch on Thursday of the third week, “Charles was so good today the teacher gave him an apple.”

5. climax : On Friday of that week things were back to normal. “You know what Charles did today?” Laurie demanded at the lunch table, in a voice slightly awed. “He told a little girl to say a word and she said it and the teacher washed her mouth out with soap and Charles laughed.” PTA meeting.will took place tommorrow. My husband came to the door with me that evening as I set out for the PTA meeting. “Invite her over for a cup of tea after the meeting,” he said. “I want to get a look at her.”

6. resolution : At the meeting I sat restlessly, scanning each comfortable matronly face, trying to determine which one hid the secret of Charles. None of them looked to me haggard enough. No one stood up in the meeting and apologized for the way her son had been acting. No one mentioned Charles.   After the meeting I identified and sought out Laurie’s kindergarten teacher. She had a plate with a cup of tea and a piece of chocolate cake; I had a plate with a cup of tea and a piece of marshmallow cake. We maneuvered up to one another cautiously, and smiled. the Lauri's mother begin to talk about Charles to the teacher, Laurie usually adjusts very quickly,” I said. “I suppose this time it’s Charles’s influence.”

      “Charles?”

      “Yes,” I said, laughing, “you must have your hands full in that kindergarten, with Charles.”

      “Charles?” she said. “We don’t have any Charles in the kindergarten.”

Diglossia

Diglossic situation exists in a society when it has two distinct codes which show clear functional separation; 


that is, one is employed in one set of circumstances and the other in an entirely different set. 

 Ferguson (1959, p . 336) has defined Diglossia as follow:

            "DIGLOSSIA is a relatively stable language situation in which, in addition to the primary dialects of 
             the language (which may include a standard or regional standards), there is a very divergent, highly 
             codified (often gramatically more complex) superposed variety the vehicle of a large and respected 
             body of written literature, either of an earlier period or in another speech community, which is learned 
             largely by formal education and is used for most written and formal spoken purposes but is not used 
             by any sector of the community for ordinary conversation."


in the same article, he identifies four situation which show the major characteristics of this Diglossic phenomenon: Arabic, Swiss, German, Haitian (French and Creole), and Greek. in each situation, there is a 'high' variety (H) of language and there is 'low' variety (L). each variety has its own specialized functions, and each is viewed differently by those who are aware of both.


H varieties are used for delivering sermons and formal lecturers, especially in parliament or legislative body, for giving political speech, for broadcasting the news on radio or television, for writing poetry, fine literatureand editorias in newspaper. in contrast, the L varieties are used in giving instructions to workers in low-prestige occupations, in conversation with familiars, in 'soap opera' and popular programs on the radio, and in 'folk literature'. 


in the arabic situation the two varieties are Classical Arabic (H) and the various regional colloquial varieties (L). in Switzzerland they are Standar German (H) and Swiss German (L). in Haiti the varieties are Standard French (H) and Dhimotiki , or Demotic (L), varieties of Greek.