This week was the bi-annual art exhibition at Sunnybrae. Look at all of the wonderful art we had on display.
We are a class of Year 3 and 4 Middle Syndicate learners at Sunnybrae Normal School. Our teacher is Miss Karen Rodger. We hope you enjoy viewing and reading our blog entries. We would love you to comment on our work.
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Tuesday, 20 October 2015
Monday, 19 October 2015
Class Trip
Last Thursday we went to the Waitakere Transfer Station as part of our learning about Recycling.
Below are some things that we didn't know before we went.
Rubbish gets put in a hole in the ground called a landfill. (Lukas)
Plastic is made out of oil. (Jeet)
In the future...
I am going to recycle, compost, reuse and have a worm farm because I want Auckland to have 0% waste. (Kaia)
I am going to reuse my plastic bags because they cannot be recycled. (Justin)
I am not going to take clothes hangers from the shops. (Simon)
Below are some things that we didn't know before we went.
Rubbish gets put in a hole in the ground called a landfill. (Lukas)
Plastic is made out of oil. (Jeet)
In the future...
I am going to recycle, compost, reuse and have a worm farm because I want Auckland to have 0% waste. (Kaia)
I am going to reuse my plastic bags because they cannot be recycled. (Justin)
I am not going to take clothes hangers from the shops. (Simon)
Abbie's Writing
In the holidays Abbie attended a Writers Camp. Read the beginning of the story she is currently working on.
Summerville was always a peaceful village, with a wonderful mayor and happy villagers.
But this story is about one certain little girl, called Sienna who has always stayed away from the town hall for-hire-but-always-closed lounge. Always, except once.
Sienna lives next door to the town hall so every night she listens to parties and celebrations going on inside the main hall. Her room was covered in posters of her favourite monster stories and pictures of herself.
If she looked out her window right now she would see the old town hall bell tower, which would be rung every hour. DING, DONG, DING, DONG, it would go, filling the air with its spine-prickling sound.
What do you think will happen next? By Abbie
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