Counting the number of miles traveled done by a product is a strange way of trying to tell the true situation of the environmental damage due to industry. Most food is transported around the world on container ships that are extremely energy efficient. It should be noticed that a ton of butter transported 25 miles in a truck to a farmers' market doesn't necessarily use less fuel on its journey than a similar product transported hundreds of miles by sea. Besides, the idea of “food miles” ignores the amount of fuel used in the production. It is possible to cut down your food miles by buying tomatoes grown in Britain rather than those grown in Ghana. The difference is that the British ones will have been raised in heated greenhouse and the Ghanaian ones in the open sun.

    What is the idea of “food miles” doesprovide, however, is the chance to cut out Third World countries from First World food markets. The number of miles traveled by our food should, as I see it, be regarded as a sign of the success of the global trade system, not a sign of damage to the environment.

    My parents moved to Mississippi when my brother and I were small children, and we were separated from our Oklahoma grandparents by some 600 miles. This long distance allowed us to only visit our grandparents once a year, either at Christmas or during summer vacation.

    Most of my classmates lived near their grandparents, and I would often hear stories of big families regularly spending time with one another, fishing at “grandpa's” house or going over to “grandma's”for her famous fried chicken. We were disappointed that we did not get to spend more time with our grandparents, but our love for them remained deep and strong.

    We always expected a road trip to Oklahoma. We would count the days, and when the day came, the entire family would pile into our car at four o'clock in the morning. Crossing the Mississippi River into Louisiana, the scenery changed. Crossing the Red River in Oklahoma, we were in a foreign world.

    Every trip to see my grandparents can't be without bringing delight. We jumped out of the car in their driveway to be met with bear hugs. My grandparents wanted to know everything about their grandchildren, and we would sit for hours and tell story after story. Grandma had a meal planned, and you could guess she prepared her grandsons' favorite foods. Of course the best part of the visit was that we were able to do whatever we wanted without punishment from our grandparents. Grandma and Grandpa always had presents for us, short trips planned and lovely surprises, such as the time we got to a local restaurant and ate the world's largest hamburger.

    When you go to St. Petersburg, the number of attractions can seem overwhelming. If you're short on time, or just want to make sure to hit the highlights, these are the top must-see sights in St. Petersburg.

    The Hermitage Museum

    The Hermitage Museum is one of the most important sights to see for any visitor to St. Petersburg. There you can see lots of different paintings of old masters inside the Hermitage. Prepare to come face-to-face with classic Western artists.

    The Russian Museum

    The Russian Museum holds one of the largest collections of Russian art in the world. View Russian art creations through the ages, from Byzantine (拜占庭)-style icons to the Socialist Realism of Stalin's times.

    Kizhi Island

    Kizhi Island is an open-air museum of wooden buildings from the Karelia Region of Russia. These impressive structures are made without any nails (钉子) — the wood fits together with joints and grooves (沟槽).

    Peterhof

    Peterhof is as beautiful as it is fun. You'll be charged for admission (门票), but go to Peterhof when the fountains (喷泉) are working — during the day in the summer. They are shut off in winter as well as in the evenings.

    The Church of Our Savior on Spilled Blood

    Love it or hate it, the Church of Our Savior on Spilled Blood is an attractive must-see sight. The beautiful look may make your eyes brighten, and the paintings inside the church will make you say “Wow!”

    The Bronze Horseman Statue

    The Bronze Horseman is a part of Russian Culture and a symbol of St. Petersburg. Made famous by Alexander Pushkin (普希金), this statue of Peter the Great sitting on his horse can truly show Peter the Great's influence on the Russian idea of greatness.

    Even before my father left us, my mother had to go back to work to support our family. Once I came out of the kitchen, complaining, “Mom, I can't peel potatoes. I have only one hand.”

    Mom never looked up from sewing. “You get yourself into that kitchen and peel those potatoes,” she told me. “And don't ever use that as an excuse for anything again!”

    In the second grade, our teacher lined up my class on the playground and had each of us race across the monkey bars, swinging from one high steel rod to the next. When it was my turn, I shook my head. Some kids behind me laughed, and I went home crying.

    That night I told Mom about it. She hugged me, and I saw her “we'll see about that” look. The next afternoon, she took me back to school. At the deserted playground, Mom looked carefully at the bars.

    “Now, pull up with your right arm,” she advised. She stood by as I struggled to lift myself with my right hand until I could hook the bar with my other elbow. Day after day we practiced, and she praised me for every rung I reached.

     I'll never forget the next time, crossing the rungs; I looked down at the kids who were standing with their mouths open.

    One night, after a dance at my new junior high, I lay in bed sobbing. I could hear Mom come into my room. “Mom,” I said, weeping, “none of the boys would dance with me.”

    For a long time, I didn't hear anything. Then she said, “Oh, honey, someday you'll be beating those boys off with a bat.” Her voice was faint and cracking. I peeked out from my covers to see tears running down her cheeks. Then I knew how much she suffered on my behalf. She had never let me see her tears.

    Love working with children? Looking for an exciting new opportunity? Want to work on a friendly, fun and supportive team? This is what our team member Anna says about working at My Crèche:

    "It's the nicest place I've ever worked. Everyone is so friendly and we have so much fun working together. They give me opportunities to learn new things every day. They care about my personal development. Working at My Crèche has enabled me to build relationships with the children as well as parents within the community which makes me feel so welcomed in the local area."

    Conveniently located in the heart of crouch End, London, N8, My Crèche offers drop-in and pre-booked childcare for children aged 6 weeks to 5 years of age. We also provide after-school and breakfast clubs for children up to 8 years old. Our goal is to enable parents to pursue personal and professional activities when they need to, with total peace of mind knowing their children are being cared for in a safe and fun environment.

    We are looking for an enthusiastic and committed professional with excellent interpersonal skills, who is committed to ensuring the best outcomes and care for children. This is an excellent opportunity for a proactive individual to be a part of a fresh and progressive childcare concept and we welcome newly qualified professionals. We are a small and very supportive team with great training opportunities.

    The successful candidate will:

    Have a certificate Level 3 in Childcare and Education.

    Have experience working with children.

    Be an excellent communicator with strong people skills.

    Be energetic and able to multi-task.

    Salary:£16,500—£19,000 per year depending on experience and qualifications.

    Full time(flexible work available) and 28 days annual leave.

    The McDonnells lived in a small brick house in Larchmont, a suburb of New York City. Jim was foreman of mail carriers at the post office where he had worked for 25 years. Married in 1960, he and Anne were childless.

    On the evening of the eleventh anniversary of their marriage, carrying out the garbage, Jim McDonnell slipped on ice­coated steps, and struck his head. A few days later, driving to work, he lost control of the car, hit a telephone pole, and banged his forehead against the windshield. The following day he fell off the stairs, and again he banged his head. Found unconscious, he was hospitalized for three days with a cerebral concussion(脑震荡). One day in the same month, Jim borrowed a friend's station wagon and drove to Kennedy Airport to pick up Anne's brother and family. When he returned the borrowed car at 10 p.m., he was unaware that the wallet containing his identification had slipped out of his pocket onto the floor of the station wagon. After that, he was never seen again.

    So what really happened to Anne's husband? During his walk home, Jim had indeed blacked out(昏厥), losing all ability to remember who he was and where he lived. What happened then is unclear. The next thing he knew was that he was in downtown Philadelphia, a city he had never visited before. Seeing signs advertising the services of a James Peters, a real estate broker, Jim adopted James Peters as his own name. He had no past; his only reality was the present. James Peters got a Social Security card, which could be obtained at that time without showing a birth certificate, and took a job in a health club. He next worked at a cancer research institute, cleaning out animal cages. He also got a night shift job at the P&P luncheonette, where he became well known for his omelets, as well as his courtesy and good humor.

    About a month before Christmas 1985, colleagues noticed that Jim had grown unusually quiet and depressed. Something seemed to be turning in his mind. On December 22, Jim had fallen and banged his head. The next day at work he seemed distracted, and late that afternoon he had fallen again, striking his head. On December 24, he awoke feeling confused, yet delighted. After almost 15 years, he knew who he was! He was James A. McDonnell, Jr., of Larchmont, New York. His wife's name was Anne.

    Anne had just returned home from Christmas Mass, where she lit candles and prayed for Jim. A light snow was falling, and she was in a hurry to leave for Christmas dinner at her sister's before the roads grew slick. Then the doorbell rang. "Oh my," she thought, "this is not a good time for a visitor." Anne opened the door — and saw a man with a full white beard. Immediately she recognized Jim. She couldn't speak.

    To Jim, Anne looked a little older, but prettier too. His heart overflowed.

    "Hello, Anne," he said.