We are learning to copy and paste a book neatly and tidily and time our selves to see how fast we are at handwriting
5:59 - 6:36/ 5:50 - 6:15
Monday/Tue
In a perfectly ordinary street in a perfectly ordinary house in Stockholm lives a perfectly ordinary family called Stevenson. It consists of a perfectly ordinary father and a perfectly ordinary mother and three perfectly ordinary children, Seb, Sally and Smidge. I’m not an ordinary Smidge at all; says Smidge.
But he’s lying. He most certainly is ordinary. There are many boys of seven with blue eyes and snub nose and unwashed ears and trousers that have holes in the knees, so Smidge is most definitely is perfectly ordinary, there’s no question about it. Seb is fifteen and likes football but isn’t getting on very well school, so he’s perfectly ordinary, too; and Sally is fourteen and has her hair in a ponytail like other perfectly ordinary girls. There’s only one person in the whole house who isn’t ordinary, and that’s
Karlson on the roof. He lives on the roof.
6:36. - 6:55/4:00 - 4:25 -
Wed-Thurs
Karlson, and that’s not very ordinary, for a start. It may be different in other parts of the world,
but in Stockholm, you scarcely ever find anyone living in a special little house up on the roof.
Yet that's precisely what Karlson does. He is a very small, round, determine gentleman,
and he can fly. Everybody can fly in airplanes and helicopters, but Karlson is the only one who can fly by himself ? Karlson simply turns a winder somewhere in front of his tummy button,
and hey presto! A clever little motor starts whirring. Karlson stands there for a moment while his motor revs up. And then - when his propellor is whizzing round fast enough - Karlson Takes off and hovers
away, as fine and safely as a high court judge if you can imagine a high court judge with a propeller on
his back. Karlson is a very happy little house up on the roof. In the evenings he sits on his front step
and smokes his pipe and looks at the stars.
