My school stood in a big square playground in southeastern South Dakota. One teacher taught all grades, first through eighth. Most grades had only two or three students.

    Our school day started with the flag pledge(宣誓). Then the teacher called one grade at a time to the recitation bench beside her desk. She'd check our work, explain the new lesson, and dismiss us to go back to our own desks and do our new work, all in less than ten minutes per grade.

    At noon we ate lunches we had brought. Our lunches consisted of homemade sandwiches and if we were lucky, dessert. My favorite dessert was a fresh pear, and a piece of Mom's delicious sour cream chocolate cake.

    The annual Christmas program was the most exciting part of the year. We hurried through our lessons during December to allow time to practise poems, songs, and plays.

    A few days before the performance, the school board members borrowed equipment from the town and set up a stage across one side of the classroom. We hung bed sheets for curtains.

    On the evening of the performance, petrol lanterns hanging along the walls cast a warm, though not very bright, light over the gathering crowd. We could hardly contain our excitement as we looked from behind the curtains to wave at our parents.

    On a spring Sunday in a new term, just before the last day of the school term, everyone in the neighborhood gathered for a picnic. Our moms set fried chicken, bowls of salads, and desserts on the teacher's desk and the library table. After the dinner, we played games. One of the school board members brought big buckets of ice cream in the afternoon to top off the picnic. How we looked forward to that treat!

    I was just nineteen years old when I started my first teaching position in a country school with thirteen students. I felt excited, nervous and happy as I prepared my lunch bucket the first morning of the term. I can't remember what kind of sandwiches I packed, but I do remember I put in a fresh pear and a piece of chocolate cake for dessert!

    Oh my God, the robots are taking over! We're doomed! Doomed! Now that I've gotten that out of my system, it's become clear that while we may or may not be doomed, the robots are taking over. The latest example is the government's new guidelines for self-driving cars.

    Tesla, Google and Uber are already testing driverless cars in cities across America. Uber chief executive Travis Kalanick is among those predicting that by 2021, self-driving cars will play a big part in urban settings.

    Nearly 40,000 people died last year in this nation in automobile-related accidents, and we believe driverless cars can save tens of thousands of lives annually.

    It makes sense. Robot drivers are less likely to get drunk, drive without a license, text while driving or feel agitated at the scene of a traffic jam. On the other hand, I wonder how these highly sensitive cars will react with walkers constantly dashing into the street. Will they jam on the brakes every 10 seconds?

    But there's a bigger picture. Not only are robots replacing humans behind the wheel, but behind the work desk, in warehouses, senior homes, you name it. Robots aren't just taking over in the workplace.

    The question is, where can't a robot function better than a human? How about writing songs? A robot can go through every combination of notes in record time and come up with a pleasing melody. The lyrics might be a different story. Is a Grammy-winning song co-written by Hank Human and R-3071 in our future?

    Finally, it's only a matter of time until we have robot politicians and presidential candidates. Why not? They can be programmed to be experts in world and domestic affairs and come up with the best solutions without corruption and bad humors.

    Actually, it's too bad such technology isn't available in 2018. Pretty sure the robot would win in a landslide.

    The summer before my dad died, we moved house. Up until that point, our family had our own space to spread out. Money was tight, so there was no television set, but we owned a turntable on which my dad's records played constantly. Mostly, it played Bob Dylan. Tracks from The Basement Tapes and Desire became an important part of our new life. My brother and I, aged 8 and 10，climbed trees, built hideaways and learned the words of Clothes Line Saga. We would chant over and over, lost in our own joy.

    It was January when my dad left us forever because of the cancer. He was 36 going on 37 then, the same age as Dylan. Afterwards, our laughter disappeared, but we kept on playing the records, which became our only ritual of remembrance. The two men became so intertwined in my head, I struggled to tell them apart.

    Dylan was my dad's gift to me. What child wouldn't be fascinated by songs full of pirates and seasick sailors? How did it feel to have No direction home? Farewell, Angelina became my party-piece. I would sing this at church cheese and wines to the assembled audience. A lot of donations were made.

    Growing up, I remained a fan of the music, but I wasn't obsessed with Dylan until one day in early 1995, my brother bought us both tickets to see him play at Brixton Academy. London felt like a long way to go. But finally seeing Dylan step out on to the stage brought a sudden rush of excitement.

    I have seen Dylan a couple of times since. My brother is not around so much these days. But he was up for a visit recently. We passed a happy evening laughing and drinking, while his son, aged nine, performed his party—piece Subterranean Homesick Blues for us. He sang it word-perfect. And so it goes on: Dylan's music as a gift, passed down the generations.

    Food festivals are a common occurrence in the UK and take place in all sorts of places and at all sorts of times. Whatever your taste, there's a food festival to match -no matter how specialized.

    Meatopia

    This three-day, London-based festival takes place at the end of August and is a meat lover's paradise. In addition to a range of meat products, from burgers to steaks, attendees can listen to live music, watch butchery shows, and attend informal meat-based workshops.

    Vegfest

    If you prefer a festival that will help you meet your five a day, then Vegfest fest is for you. This vegan-friendly event takes place several times a year. Here you can enjoy a wide selection of freshly prepared vegetables, learn cooking tips and hear talks on nutrition to help you make the most of your plant-based search.

    The Marmalade Festival

    Held in Cumbria, this festival has been running for 13 years. It includes a competition to find the best homemade marmalade. There are thousands of entries from over 30 different countries across the globe.

    The Ginger (姜) and spice Festival

    The Ginger and spice Festival, held in Market Drayton, celebrates its town's historic connection to Robert Clive, who returned from India with ginger. Because of this, they specialize in baking gingerbread, but also sell a range of spices from mild to hot.

    The National Honey show

    It started in 1921 and is the largest event of its kind. This three-day event attracts over 2000 participants to their traditional competition and offers lectures and workshops on beekeeping and, of course, that syrupy golden honey.

    While people's tastes are different from each other, the UK has something to offer most people. From large-scale festivities, to the smaller gatherings, one thing is certain: people are passionate about their food. And while some of the products on offer might be strange to someone, when food is given that much attention, it's unlikely to leave a bad taste in anyone's mouth.

    When the telephone rings late at night, most women guess it must be one of only four or five people calling. A sister? Maybe. An emergency? Possibly. A mother? Probably not at that time of night. Much more probably it is a close female friend calling to tell you that she is heartbroken because she has split up with her boyfriend again or perhaps simply that a good movie has just started on TV.

    At a time when families are spread far and wide and marriages often end in divorce, friendships are becoming more and more important. Erika, a 32-year-old lawyer, is strengthened by her ten year friendship with her married friend Jane. "I was very sick one night, so I called Jane at about 3：00 a. m. to talk about it," she says. "She was very supportive and even came over to take me to the doctor's."

    As American TV shows like Friends have become more popular, many of us are beginning to see the value of such friendships.TV shows like this tell us that our romantic relationships may not last, but we need to keep in touch with our close friends if we want to survive.

    With Erika's family 200 miles away, it is Jane who keeps a spare set of keys to Erika's apartment and waters her plants whenever she is away. "Having Jane around gives me a certain amount of freedom. It is not the kind of thing that you could ask anyone to do, but she knows I would do the same for her. "Jane, who may move to a different city soon, is worried about leaving such a support system of friends. "My friends have more to do with my life than my parents and, therefore, I don't have to spend a lot of time explaining things to them. Friends are more up to date with what is happening."