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Tiny Houses: A New Way to Live
Quiz by Tereza Scattolini
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The following days are a jumble of gunfire, digging, gobbled food, soldiers running in and out of the forest in small groups, distant explosions, stray shells, bandaged heads and unexpected lulls. On the very first day, before dawn, I am ordered into one of the newly dug trenches. I huddle there, squeezing my magic buttons and singing songs to the dog. When the fighting stops, the dog disappears, but a new companion takes his place. A strange little soldier crawls along the trench toward me. ‘Private Sasha!’ he cries. ‘I’ve been looking for you all day long!’ He’s old, like a grandfather, a dedushka. He has a black patch over one eye, a tape measure around his neck and a row of pins threaded into his sleeve. Hanging from his belt is the most enormous pair of scissors I have ever seen and I wonder if he uses them as a weapon. He doesn’t tell me his name, so in my head he becomes Dedushka. Dedushka squats, cups his hand to his ear, peers over the top of the trench and smiles. ‘It’s safe to be upright . . . for now.’ He helps me to my feet, dusts me off and commands me to stand as tall and straight as I can. Then he measures me. Everything from head to toe – even my toes! He writes numbers in a little notebook, strings his tape measure back around his neck, salutes and hurries away. It’s all very strange, and I wonder if Dedushka has been bumped on the head during the battle and is now a little bit muddled. I should have given him a hug before he left. I chase after him but stop when I’m hit by a shovelful of flying dirt. Sleepy Bear is digging a cave! ‘Are you going to hibernate?’ I ask. Sleepy Bear chuckles. ‘No, although that would be wonderful! I could do with a lo-o-o-ong sleep.’ He sighs and closes his eyes. He doesn’t open them again and I realise that he has gone to sleep. Standing up! I shake his arm, and he opens his eyes and keeps talking. ‘No, I’m not hibernating. I’m digging a little nook where I can sleep and eat. I’ll hang up my raincape as a door that can open and close so it feels just like a real home . . . except for the lice . . . and the bad smells . . . and the bombs that make the walls shake and crumble.’ He points further along the trench to where other soldiers are digging. ‘We’re all making little houses in the ground.’ ‘Like rabbits and moles,’ I say. Sleepy Bear chuckles. ‘Yes! And soldiers who need to hide from German bullets and bombs.’ He stops digging to roll a cigarette. ‘Should I be making a house?’ I ask. ‘I want to hide from German bullets and bombs, too.’ Sleepy Bear flops to the ground, lights his cigarette, closes his eyes and takes a deep puff. I wait for him to answer, but, instead, he begins to snore! I poke him in the side. He snorts and he murmurs, ‘I think someone has already built you a house, Sasha. Keep going along this beautiful village street and you are sure to find it.’ He falls asleep once more. I kiss his dusty cheek and whisper, ‘Thank you, Sleepy Bear.’ A little way along, I see Cook in a cloud of smoke. He has lit a fire, right here in the middle of the trench, and is stirring a cauldron full of kasha. He squats as he stirs. ‘What are you doing?’ I ask. ‘Cooking supper, of course!’ he cries. ‘But why are you doing it here?’ Cook points his spoon at the ground above the trenches. ‘Because if I do it up there, my pot will be filled with holes from German bullets and all of the kasha will leak out onto the ground. It’s bad enough that our supplies can’t get through German lines and there’s nothing to cook but buckwheat for kasha. But if we lost the kasha, too . . .’ ‘Hungry soldiers,’ I say. Cook nods. ‘And grumpy!’ ‘Like Boris!’ I gasp. ‘Even worse,’ warns Cook. I picture the kasha pot full of bullet holes. And then I realise that if the kasha pot were full of holes, then Cook would be, too. I wrap my arms around Cook’s neck and say, ‘I think this is a very good place for cooking our supper.’ I kiss his smoky cheek and run along. At the end of the trench, I find the biggest hole of all. It’s wide and deep and as busy as a beehive in a blossom tree. Above, a group of soldiers is rolling logs into place for a roof, while below, typewriters rattle and pencils scratch and papers flutter and voices crackle out of five different radios. Their words tangle together to tell a strange wartime fairy tale about German guns and a loving father called Stalin and a Red Army regiment that is lost in the deep, dark forest and a wicked beast called Hitler and a delivery of vegetables that was hit by a bomb and blown into a million tiny pieces too small even to make soup. In the middle of it all, wrestling with a rumpled map, his rifle still slung over his shoulder, is Major Scruff. ‘Major Scruff!’ I run and jump into his arms. ‘Is this our new home?’ ‘Yes, Sasha. I suppose it is.’ ‘Is it safe from German bullets and bombs?’ I ask. He stares at me. ‘Were you scared in the trenches today, Sasha?’ ‘No,’ I reply. ‘I had magic buttons and a dog and some songs to sing. Were you scared in the forest, Major Scruff?’ ‘Yes,’ he says. ‘Poor Major Scruff!’ I press my hand against his cheek. The dark, rough stubble is grubby with grit and his eyelids are taking a long time to open after every blink. ‘You need a shave and a nap!’ I scold. He chuckles. ‘I am too tired to shave and too busy to nap.’ I scrunch my nose while I consider his problem. ‘I know!’ I cry. ‘You nap and I will shave your whiskers. That will be two jobs tumbled into one!’ And so that’s what we do. Major Scruff slumps into a chair and snoozes while I lather his face with soapy water and shave his whiskers. The soap suds travel from his face, up into his hair and down the front of his uniform, and I have to shave his jaw and chin three times because I keep missing bits, but I finally get it all done. I am just wiping his cheeks dry when the dog appears. He licks my hand, then stretches up and licks soap suds from Major Scruff’s ear. Major Scruff wakes with a start. He feels his newly shaved face and cries, ‘Wonderful, Sasha! I feel smooth, clean, rested and ready for action.’ He ruffles my hair. ‘We must do this again tomorrow. Although next time, you might wake me with a gentle shake of the shoulder instead of licking my ear.’Into the Sea What Is Erosion? Have you ever made a sand castle at the beach? You must pick a good spot for it. If it is too close to the water, waves will quickly wash it away. Ocean waves and wind can also wash away land. They can change the shape of an island, which is land circled by water. When wind and water change the shape of Earth, it is called erosion. Waves are the biggest cause of erosion at the beach. Ocean waves are always active and moving onto the shore. They carry the sand away bit by bit. Strong waves are one of the properties of big storms. These waves explode as they crash onto the beach. Storm waves can move a lot of sand quickly. Erosion of Beaches. Some people build houses near the ocean. Waves take away the sand between the houses and the sea. As the beach disappears, the water gets closer to houses and other solid buildings on the beach. Some buildings can even be washed away. Erosion of Rocks. Erosion also happens on steep, rocky cliffs or sharp slopes. First, waves smash into the bottom of the cliffs. Then they carry away tiny pieces of rock. Over time, many small pieces of rock wash away from the bottom of the cliff. This makes the top of the cliff weak.The cliff can crumble and fall into the sea. Stopping Erosion. Some local communities work to stop erosion to nearby beaches. These towns have built sea walls of large boulders or rocks. The rocks are placed in a row in the sea. When waves hit the sea wall, they slow down. Then the waves can't pull sand away.Some towns make rules about buildings on the beach. New buildings must be far from the water. Then they won't wash away like a sand castle.Changes. Things are always changing, like the clock, the weather, and even me. It seems nothing ever stays the same. My life has been full of changes. Sometimes I don't feel good about them, but then later it gets better. Taffy, my kitty, ran away. We have looked for him all over, but we cannot find him anywhere. I miss Taffy a lot, and I am sad. Dad says that we can get another kitty. That makes me feel better. I don't know what I will name him, but I will always remember Taffy. My best friend, Robin, just moved away. The moving van took away everything, and the house is empty. I wish Robin were here to play with me. Robin now lives in the mountains. I have never seen mountains, but they sound like fun to visit. Mom says we can take an airplane, so I can see Robin and play with her again. The day I started the new school year, I was scared of all the new children in my class. I was afraid that they wouldn't like me, and that I couldn't run as fast as they do. Now I am happy because I have made lots of new friends. I like Sarah and Ana, and Mary Lou, who makes me laugh. I love my class and my teacher. Mom just took a new job at an office downtown. She's not here when I come home from school. My Aunt Barbara is here to give me cookies and milk. Then I wait and wait for Mom to come home. When the hands of the clock point straight up and down, she comes home, and that makes me happy. Things are always changing, even with me. Yesterday I looked in the mirror. My face looked like a Halloween pumpkin because I lost my first tooth. I had a big surprise when I woke up this morning. My tooth was gone from under my pillow. There was a note from the tooth fairy and a whole quarter. I'm going to save it to buy some colored pencils. In school I learned that crawly caterpillars change into butterflies. And tiny acorn nuts grow into great big oak trees. Mom says that long ago, she was little like me. Do you think some day I will change and be a grownup? I think I will be an artist.Most of the functions of a eukaryotic cell are controlled by the nucleus, shown in Figure 4-12. The nucleus is filled with a jellylike liquid called the nucleoplasm, which holds the contents of the nucleus and is similar in function to a cell’s cytoplasm. The nucleus houses and protects the cell’s genetic information. The hereditary information that contains the instructions for the structure and function of the organism is coded in the organism’s DNA, which is contained in the nucleus. When a cell is not dividing, the DNA is in the form of a threadlike material called chromatin. When a cell is about to divide, the chromatin condenses to form chromosomes. Chromosomes are structures in the nucleus made of DNA and protein. The nucleus is the site where DNA is transcribed into ribonucleic acid (RNA). RNA moves through nuclear pores to the cytoplasm, where, depending on the type of RNA, it carries out its function. Nuclear Envelope The nucleus is surrounded by a double membrane called the nuclear envelope. The nuclear envelope is made up of two phos- pholipid bilayers. Covering the surface of the nuclear envelope are tiny, protein-lined holes, which are called nuclear pores. The nuclear pores provide passageways for RNA and other materials to enter and leave the nucleus. Nucleolus Most nuclei contain at least one denser area, called the nucleolus (noo-KLEE-uh-luhs). The nucleolus (plural, nucleoli) is the site where DNA is concentrated when it is in the process of making ribosomal RNA. Ribosomes (RIE-buh-SOHMZ) are organelles made of protein and RNA that direct protein synthesis in the cytoplasm. The nucleus of a cell is surrounded by a double membrane called the nuclear envelope. The nucleus stores the cell’s DNA. FIGURE 4-12 Nuclear envelope Nucleolus Nuclear pores DNA (chromatin) Copyright © by Holt, Rinehart and Winston. All rights reserved. 80 CHAPTER 4 MITOCHONDRIA Mitochondria (MIET-oh-KAHN-dree-uh) (singular, mitochondrion) are tiny organelles that transfer energy from organic molecules to adenosine triphosphate (ATP). ATP ultimately powers most of the cell’s chemical reactions. Highly active cells, such as muscle cells, can have hundreds of mitochondria. Cells that are not very active, such as fat-storage cells, have few mitochondria. Like a nucleus, a mitochondrion has an inner and an outer phos- pholipid membrane, as shown in Figure 4-13. The outer membrane separates the mitochondrion from the cytosol. The inner membrane has many folds, called cristae (KRIS-tee). Cristae contain proteins that carry out energy-harvesting chemical reactions. Mitochondrial DNA Mitochondria have their own DNA and can reproduce only by the division of preexisting mitochondria. Scientists think that mito- chondria originated from prokaryotic cells that were incorporated into ancient eukaryotic cells. This symbiotic relationship provided the prokaryotic invaders with a protected place to live and pro- vided the eukaryotic cell with an increased supply of ATP. RIBOSOMES Ribosomes are small, roughly spherical organelles that are respon- sible for building protein. Ribosomes do not have a membrane. They are made of protein and RNA molecules. Ribosome assembly begins in the nucleolus and is completed in the cytoplasm. One large and one small subunit come together to make a functioning ribosome, shown in Figure 4-14. Some ribosomes are free within the cytosol. Others are attached to the rough endoplasmic reticulum.The Pedestrian (adapted) by Ray Bradbury Mr. Leonard Mead loved to walk outside at night. The city was quiet at eight o’clock on a misty November evening. He liked to put his hands in his pockets and stroll along the cracked sidewalks, stepping over grass that grew between the concrete. He would stop at the corners, look down the empty streets, and choose which way to go. It didn’t really matter which way he picked, because he was always alone in the year 2053. Sometimes, Mr. Mead would walk for hours and miles, coming home only at midnight. As he walked, he saw houses with their windows dark, like he was walking through a graveyard. Sometimes, he saw tiny flashes of light from behind curtains or heard soft voices from open windows. Mr. Mead wore sneakers so his footsteps wouldn’t make noise. If he wore shoes with hard heels, the dogs would bark and people might look out their windows. He liked being quiet and unnoticed as he walked in the cool November air. On this night, Mr. Mead walked west, toward the sea. The air was cold and frosty, making his nose sting and his lungs feel fresh. He listened to the sound of his shoes in the fallen leaves and sometimes picked up a leaf to look at it under the streetlights. As he walked, he whispered to the houses, “Hello in there. What’s on TV tonight? Where are the cowboys? Is the cavalry coming?” But the street was silent and empty, with only his shadow moving. He checked his watch. “Eight-thirty. Is it time for a quiz show? Or a funny show?” He thought he heard laughter from a house, but nothing else happened. He kept walking, sometimes stumbling over the broken sidewalk. In all his years of walking, he had never seen another person out at night. He reached a big intersection where two highways crossed. During the day, it was full of cars, but now it was empty and quiet, like a dry riverbed. Mr. Mead turned onto a side street, heading home. Suddenly, a police car turned the corner and shined a bright light on him. He stood still, surprised by the light. A metallic voice from the car said, “Stand still. Don’t move! Put up your hands!” Mr. Mead obeyed. The police car asked, “What’s your name?” “Leonard Mead,” he answered. “What’s your job?” “I guess I’m a writer,” Mr. Mead said. The police car replied, “No profession.” Mr. Mead hadn’t written anything in years, since people didn’t buy books or magazines anymore. People just stayed inside their houses, watching TV. The car asked, “What are you doing out?” “I’m walking,” Mr. Mead said. “Walking? Just walking?” the car repeated. “Yes,” he said. “Where are you walking? Why?” “For air. To see things,” Mr. Mead answered. “Your address?” “Eleven South Saint James Street.” “Do you have air in your house? An air conditioner?” “Yes.” “Do you have a TV?” “No.” “No?” The car was quiet for a moment. “Are you married?” “No,” Mr. Mead said. “Not married,” the car said. The night was cold and quiet. “Just walking, Mr. Mead?” “Yes.” “But why?” “I told you. For air, to see, and just to walk.” “Do you do this often?” “Every night for years.” The police car was silent for a moment. Then it said, “Get in.” The back door opened. “Wait, I haven’t done anything!” Mr. Mead protested. “Get in,” the car repeated. Mr. Mead looked into the car. There was no one inside, just an empty front seat. The back seat was like a small jail cell, cold and hard. “Where are you taking me?” he asked. The car answered, “To the Psychiatric Center for Research on Regressive Tendencies.” Mr. Mead got in. The door closed, and the car drove away through the empty streets. As they passed his house, he saw that all the lights were on. “That’s my house,” he said, but no one answered. The car drove off into the night, leaving the streets empty and silent for the rest of the cold November night.LIVING IN A TINY HOUSE And explode. A good example is the eruption of Washington's Mount St. Helens. In this type of eruption, the magma blasts into the air and breaks apart into pieces called tephra. Tephra can range in size from tiny particles of ash to house- size boulders. Explosive volcanic eruptions can be dangerous and deadly. They can blast out clouds of hot tephra from the side or top of a volcano. These fiery clouds race down mountainsides destroying almost everything in their path. Ash erupted into the sky falls back to Earth like powdery snow. If thick enough, blankets of ash can suffocate plants, animals, and humans. When hot volcanic materials mix with water from streams or melted snow and ice, mudflows form. Mudflows have buried entire communities located near erupting volcanoesWhat Pet Should You Get? Introduction. Almost every kid has wanted to have a pet. Pets can make good friends. But how do you decide which kind of pet to get? Here are some kids who have some opinions about pets. Read what they have to say. Then decide what kind of pet you would like to have. Dogs as Pets. Every kid should own a dog. A dog comes when you call it. You know it likes you because it wags its tail. Dogs like to play chase with you. Some dogs will even play catch! Get a dog for a great playmate! Dogs as Pets. Dogs are hard pets to keep. They need lots of space to run. What if you don't have a yard? You have to take them on walks even if it is cold. The worst thing is that you have to clean up after them. Yuck, who wants a dog? Lizards as Pets. Lizards make the coolest pets. They don't bark or meow. You don't have to take them for walks. They are easy to hold and to pet. It doesn't cost much for lizard food. So, go get a lizard! Lizards as Pets. It is mean to keep lizards as pets. Some have to stay in one tiny box their whole life. Some of them eat live crickets. Plus, it feels really weird to pet them. Never, ever, get a lizard! Fish as Pets. Fish make awesome pets. They come in such pretty colors. It is fun to watch them swim back and forth. It is fun to watch their funny mouths. They only need to be fed once a day. Fish make fun and easy pets to keep. Fish as Pets. Fish should be left in the oceans and rivers. Fish don't come when you call them. They can't do any tricks. And worse than that, fish don't like to be touched. Fish win the most boring pet award. Parrots as Pets One of the best pets to own is a parrot. Parrots are very beautiful birds. They often do not need a cage. I love it when my parrot says "hello." Some parrots even whistle. Get a parrot and teach it to talk. Parrots as Pets Parrots are really messy pets. They spill seeds and fruit all over. They are not the best drinkers. They get water on the floor. Their feathers can even fall out. Don't get a parrot unless you like cleaning! Conclusion. There are good things and bad things about each pet. You have to decide whether the good things are great. You have to decide whether the bad things are okay for you. You also have to do research to see whether your house is good for a pet. Don't get a pet unless you have thought hard about it. But the right pet can be your best friend!