聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽聽 Baremeadow Street聽
I grew up on Baremeadow Street. It sounds exactly the way it was. Mostly open, green meadow, 1)cat-o-nine-tails, a pond and wild flowers lined the sides of the old country road that led to the Nimo鈥檚 farm at the end. Beyond the meadow were the woods. They were MY woods. I knew every pathway in those woods for miles. I loved just walking through them, absorbing the atmosphere. There was always an adventure to be found too. It was a truly magical place 2)thickset with trees to climb, wild boysenberries鈥攆at and juicy, the scent of rich soil and pine trees, the sound of the small 3)brook within, and birdsong echoing throughout. It was my secret place. When I wanted to be alone and think, I would walk through the woods. I felt safe there. Whenever I hear the word 鈥渉ome,鈥?I think of Baremeadow Street, the woods and the farm.
In the spring and summertime, the meadow buzzed with the sound of insects during the day, and birds from the woods 4)dashed about, 5)swooping and diving for a snack. Through my bedroom window at night, the meadow鈥檚 6)crickets and frogs sang me to sleep. If I couldn鈥檛 sleep, I would sneak outside and go next door to run barefoot in my nightgown in Mr. Anderson鈥檚 moonlit apple orchard. If Heaven has any scent at all, I鈥檓 sure it鈥檚 apple blossom.
Nimo鈥檚 Farm was a ways down from my house. Ma would send me down to the farm to get fresh milk and eggs on Sunday mornings. I didn鈥檛 mind the walk at all. I would feed and pet the cows on my way down. I would walk up to the 7)barbed wire fence and 8)hold out some grass, and they would walk right up to me and let me pet the 9)soft spot just above their noses. Their breath smelled sweet because of the grass they constantly 10)munched on. When I had spent enough time petting the cows, I would walk up the little 11)cobblestone pathway to Mr. Nimo鈥檚 door and just walk in. He always expected me on Sunday mornings. Sometimes, Mr. Nimo would let me help collect the eggs to bring home. Fresh eggs taste so much better than store-bought, or maybe they were better because I worked for them. I learned that chickens don鈥檛 like to have their eggs taken away. We had to wear leather gloves, because they peck at your hands if you鈥檙e not fast enough. I broke more than I took home most of the time. I also learned that not all chicken eggs are created perfectly egg-shaped like in the store. I found some perfectly round ones and a really weird, 12)oblong one. I liked to take those home to make Ma laugh.
One Sunday, Mr. Nimo said he had a prize for me for helping him collect eggs. The way he said 鈥減rize,鈥?I just knew it was going to be something special! He told me to be very quiet and follow him to the hay loft. We quietly climbed up the creaky wooden steps to the loft. Dust puffed out beneath our feet. The hay loft was a huge space, filled with sweet smelling hay and dust rising like a mist. The orange sun flooding through the open shutters made everything look even more golden.
Mr. Nimo lead me to a round pile of hay. On the other side were seven, playful, eight-week-old kittens. He said I could choose any one I would like to bring home. I was 13)elated! It took me a very long time to decide which one to take. Eventually, I chose a little 14)calico female. My family named her 鈥淢aggie.鈥?She grew to be the biggest cat I have ever seen. She was my pet and friend for eleven years. We went through a lot together, Maggie and I. She was always there for me, from my first [1] slumber party to my first broken heart.
When my parents decided to move from Baremeadow Street, I was devastated. I was angry for the first six months in our new house. I hated it, until I met my boyfriend (my fiance now, nine years later). Now I have my own home with him which we are busy decorating and furnishing.
I visited Baremeadow Street a few weeks ago. The meadow is filled with 15)duplexes, and Nimo鈥檚 farm is now a horse 16)stable. The woods are gone, along with my childhood. I drove away 17)craving fresh, round eggs. I don鈥檛 know why. I鈥檝e forgotten how they taste.
1) cat-o-nine-tails銆愭銆戠尗钖勮嵎
2) thickset [Wik5set] adj. 紼犲瘑鐨? 瀵嗘, 綺楃煭鐨? 綣佽寕鐨?br />3) brook [bruk] n. 灝忔邯
4) dash [dAF] v. 鐚涙幏, 鍐叉挒
5) swoop [swu:p] v. 椋炴墤, 紿佺劧琚嚮
6) cricket [5krikit] n. [鏄哴 锜嬭焵
7) barbed wire <緹?gt; 甯﹀埡閾佷笣緗?br />8) hold out 浼稿嚭, 鎻愪緵
9) soft spot 寮辯偣錛氳杽寮辯殑鎴栨槗鍙椾激瀹崇殑鍦版柟
10) munch [mQntF] v. 鐢ㄥ姏鍜鍤? 澶у０鍜鍤?br />11) cobblestone [5kRblEstEun] n. 鍦嗙煶, 楣呭嵉鐭?br />12) oblong [5CblCN] adj. 闀挎柟褰㈢殑, 妞洯褰㈢殑
13) elated [i5leitid] adj. 鍏撮珮閲囩儓鐨? 寰楁剰媧嬫磱鐨?br />14) calico [5kAlikEu] n. 甯︽枒綰瑰姩鐗╋細涓縐嶆湁鐧借壊澶規潅綰㈣壊鍜岄粦鑹叉枒綰圭毊姣涚殑鍔ㄧ墿錛屽鐚?br />15) duplex [5dju:pleks] n. 浜岃仈寮忓叕瀵擄紝鍗犱袱灞傛ゼ鐨勫叕瀵?br />16) stable [5steibl] n. 鍘╋細瀹剁暅錛屽挨鎸囬┈鍜岀墰鐨勫湀鍏誨拰鍠傞鐨勬瀛?br />17) crave [kreiv] v. 娓存湜
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3.abacus : a caculating frame
4.abandon : to forsake
5.abase : to bring down
6.abate : to lessen
7.abatement: the act of lessen
8.abattoir : the slaugther-house
9.abbey : the house for mons or nums
10.abash : to put the flush
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Meaning:
Have a large thirst (for alcohol) or, sometimes, have a large appetite 閰掗噺寰堝ぇ錛涜儍鍙ｅ緢澶?br />
Example:
You think you can drink him under the table? You're joking! He's got a hollow leg. 浣犱互涓轟綘鑳界亴閱変粬鍟?寮鐜╃瑧!浠栧彲鏄搗閲忋?br />
Origin:
Drinking large amounts (while remaining clear headed) has a very long history. The origin of this very colourful expression is self-evident: it's as if a person were pouring all that drink into a bottomless well.
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Example:
Man, you're a sight for sore eyes. I've been stuck without a car for two days. Can I borrow yours for a while? (浼欒錛屼綘鍙湡鏄垜鐨勬晳鏄熷晩銆傛垜宸茬粡涓ゅぉ娌℃湁杞﹀紑浜嗐備綘鑳芥妸浣犵殑杞﹀熸垜涓浼氬効鍚楋紵)
Use:
This is colloquial American English. If you're in trouble or having problems, and someone who can help you out shows up out of the blue or just in time, you can call him or her "a sight for sore eyes". Or, if you suddenly run into a friend you haven't seen for a long time and you miss him or her, you can also use the idiom, although this is less common.
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