英语美文.docx

Visions of usugared plums
中国有句俗语叫做“樱桃好吃树难栽”，这句话放在想自己种一棵李子树的作者身上，也同样适用啊！
By Robert Klose
Growing fruit trees is not for the impatient. They’re generally sold as striplings and have to establish themselves before they can dedicate any energy to producing their first blossoms.[2] This generally takes years.
But they’re seductive[3] things. When one considers the tasteless cannonballs that pass for pears and plums in the supermarkets, the desire to “grow one’s own” is understandable.[4] But what the testimonials in the seed catalogs (“My peaches were as big as cantaloupes and sweet to boot!”),[5] often fail to mention is that fruit trees, like pets, require a lot of attention.
Thus it was that, five years ago, while holding a stone-hard plum at the supermarket and shaking my head, I decided to take matters into my own hands[6]. I went to a fruit tree sale here in Maine and bought something called a Mount Royal plum sapling, whose fruit is described as “tender, meaty, sweet and juicy.”[7] What more could I ask?

The thing is, except for apples, Maine is not a particularly good state for tree fruits. I think it has something to do with the snow and cold, and a summer that seems to say hello and goodbye in the same breath[8] . Be this as it may, I planted my plum tree, carefully tended it, and it began to grow without complaint. For the first five years, in fact, that’s all it did. It leafed out, shot up,[9] lost its leaves in the fall, and went to sleep in the winter.
“Where are the plums?” asked my then-11-year-old son as I stood looking at the thing. “Patience,” I counseled[10] . “Patience.”
And then, last year, the Mount Royal’s first gesture toward immortality arrived: a single white blossom, as delicate as a snowflake. I ran into the house and hauled my now-15-year-old out of bed. “Anton!” I commanded. “Get up! You won’t believe this!” Overcoming his resistance, I dragged him in his bedclothes to the plum tree. “Look!” I exulted[11] . “A plum flower!”
My son threw me a pathetic look, as if I were an object of pity. Then he went back to bed.
Now, my Mount Royal was supposed to be self-pollinating, but I wasn’t going to take any chances with that solitary blossom pulling through on its own.[12] Some neighbors of mine also had a plum tree, and it had blossomed profusely[13] . And so, with cotton swab in hand, I marched down the street and gently dabbed the anthers of several blossoms with my swab.[14] Carrying my precious cargo in a cupped hand, I returned to the Mount Royal and brushed the pollen onto the stigma at the very center of that noble blossom.[15]
And then, like a father-to-be, I waited. Day after day. As if the fate of the world depended on the successful production of that one plum. And I fretted[16] . Because, to kill time, I was reading a great deal about plums, having never known all that could go wrong. The short list included black knot, brown rot, plum pockets, shothole disease, stem decay, and something called phomopsis canker.[17] Phomopsis canker!
I’m sorry to report that the fruit never set. The blossoms simply shriveled up[18] and fell off. When I reported this to a local expert, his unscientific conclusion was, “These things happen.” And then he put his hand on my shoulder, as if to say, “Pull yourself together[19] , man.”
But hope springs[20] eternal. Early this spring, I stumbled upon a recommendation in a gardening book: “Dig some bone meal in.”[21] So I did. And lo and behold – a blizzard of blossoms.[22]
I still don’t know if I’ll have any fruit this year; but if care and affection are any guarantee, I should be eating plums out of hand by August.[23] My son’s reaction when I told him this?
“We shall see.”
Vocabulary
1. unsugared: 未加糖的。
2. stripling: 青年，小伙子，此处用比喻义；blossom: （尤指果树的）花。
3. seductive: 诱惑的，诱人的。
4. 当人们在超市里看到充当梨和李子售卖的那些“无滋无味的炮弹”时，“自己种一株树”的念头完全可以理解。
5. testimonial: （资格、能力等）证明书，介绍信；catalog: 目录册；cantaloupe: 罗马甜瓜，哈密瓜；to boot: 除此以外，又，还。
6. take matters into one’s own hands: 亲自出马。
7. sapling: 树苗；meaty: 多肉的，肉厚的。
8. in the same breath: 同时。
9. leaf out: 长叶；shoot up: 迅速成长。
10. counsel: 忠告，劝告。
11. exult: 狂喜，欢跃。
12. self-pollinating: 自花传粉的；pull through: 情况转好，度过难关。
13. profusely: 丰富地，繁茂地。
14. swab: 拭子，药签；dab: 快速擦拭；anther: 花药。
15. cargo: 货物，此处用比喻义；pollen: 花粉；stigma: 柱头，位于雌蕊的顶端，是接受花粉的部位。
16. fret: 烦躁。
17. 简短的列表里包括黑节疤病、褐腐病、洋李袋果病、穿孔病、干衰变和一种叫拟茎点霉溃疡病的。
18. shrivel up: （因干燥、年老等而）枯萎，皱缩。
19. pull together: 控制感情，整理情绪。
20. spring: 涌现，出现。
21. stumble upon: 偶尔发现；dig some bone meal in: 把一些骨粉埋进土里。
22. lo and behold: 你瞧（表示惊讶的感叹词）；blizzard: 大量。
23. 但如果关爱可以算是保证，到了八月份我应该可以马上吃到李子了吧。out of hand: 立即，马上。

分居日记-Happy Birthday
A big effort to make it a happy birthday
生日意味着惊喜、聚会、兴奋过度的吹熄蛋糕上的蜡烛。生日也是对过去12个月中的失败——感受到的或者是真实的——做出补偿的一种方法。
I like birthdays. I like fuss, a grand gesture. X can't understand the fuss. It's about upbringing, I think: his parents unceremoniously hand him something – not even wrapped – at some point within a few months of the date. I'm fairly sure they don't know when it is. For me, birthdays mean surprises, parties, over-excited children blowing out candles on sponge cakes. Like pencil marks on the wall, they are the backbone around which you hang family rituals. Birthdays are also a way to make up for the failings – perceived or real – of the past 12 months.
We didn't have the stomach for the last round. Absorbed in our own misery, X and I lumped the boys' birthday parties together, a swiftly expedited afternoon in a soft-play centre, a swiss roll with candles. It's hardly the stuff of misery memoirs, but it made me sad.
Now a year has passed and birthday season is upon us, for the first time as a separated family. The boys' birthdays are close together and it feels like a milestone; I want to do it right. On top of my normal birthday fixation, I know the last weeks have been very hard for the children. I am scarcely mother of the year at the moment: I have made no headway in trying to find a new job, which scares me stupid, and am still bruised and shocked from the accident. My temper is short and I cry a lot. I've seen a naked look of worry in the eldest's eyes and felt powerless to make it go away.
It's the youngest's birthday first. He takes after his father in this: he's not really bothered. He likes presents, of course, but doesn't have my – or his brother's –need to turn the day into a Busby Berkeley musical with a firework finale. Even so, I am determined to do it properly, to crank out the old family rituals and create new ones. He'll be at X's on the morning of his birthday, mine in the evening. We've said we'll have dinner together, agreed who should get him which present.

In preparation for the big day, I bring out the stalwart Women's Weekly cake book and canvass his opinion. "So which cake would you like? A robot? A train? A spider? I don't think I'd be very good at the castle but I'll give it a try."
He deflates my ambitions. "I just want a plain square one."
"Are you sure? That's easy. With sweets on it?"
He purses his lips in thought. "Ok." I think he's humouring me. I prod him further, and he chooses something for his birthday dinner, something he has every week. I rather admire how matter of fact he is. He's one of those children that asks for a calculator and a toothbrush for Christmas.
While he's at his father's, I make a square cake. I sneak his age on to the top in Smarties, then make another for school, with chocolate fudge icing. I wrap his presents and write his card. It's very quiet in the empty house and I don't have to hide the cake in a cupboard, or issue dire "Don't come into my bedroom!" warnings. There's no sense of anticipation, and I don't like it. It's even worse in the morning, the first time in years I haven't been woken at five on a birthday morning by an over-excited child. I don't want to do this again, I think, as I take the foil wrapped cake up the road to school.
The evening is better. I collect the boys from school and he opens his presents. Later, X comes round and builds some Lego while I make the requested boring dinner. We eat and then we light the candles, blow them out, take the obligatory pictures. The youngest is smiling his small, careful smile in them. It feels like a birthday, at last. We both need to be there, it turns out: after all, we both made him.
We'll know for next time.

Realizing your ultimate aim
你是否扪心自问过,为什么你要做现在所做的一切？你这么努力到底是为了什么？为什么要工作，赚钱，盖房子，买车，又为什么要为将来存款？好好思考一下……
Have you ever wondered why you do all that you do? What is the aim of all the effort? Why get a job, why earn, why build a house, why get a car, why save for the future? Think about it for a moment...
You might say, we do this to ensure security and comfort for the rest of our lives... And why do we need security and comfort?
I think security and comfort are both geared towards one final aim, to ensure lasting and genuine happiness. Happiness is the ultimate aim of everything we do. Again, take a moment to think about this...
Happiness is the meaning and the purpose of life, the whole aim and end of human existence. –Aristotle
The question I will raise is, do security and comfort really make us happy?
A secure life 安全的生活
Look at some senior folks who have pursued security all their lives and are about to finish their journey. How happy do they look?
Has your own pursuit of security thus far, kept you happy?
And then how real is safety? As I read in this thought provoking article, how helpful was security for the people in Japan who were hit by the Tsunami recently?
Life and future are too uncertain for anything, even money, to secure. There is absolutely no security in life. This realization need not be traumatic, in fact, it can be liberating! You don't have to be a slave to the future any more!
Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing –Helen Keller

Do possessions make us happy? 有钱我们真的就会开心么？
You may say that happiness requires nice comforts like a house, a car, big bank balance, a high paying job.
Here in India where I live, I have traveled through villages where people seemed to earn just enough to make ends meet. I have seen happiness there. I have seen smiling faces and smiling eyes that readily gave me directions to my destination, that displayed a friendly curiosity in me and my journey.
I have also worked for 3 years on Wall Street, in a big Investment Bank. I have seen some people with a lot of money but still unhappy. I am not implying that all rich are unhappy(or the poor, happy). But the fact that there are some rich who look angry or listless and there are some people of modest means who look happy, points out that there must be something else to happiness, than just money, luxury and comfort.
Most of the luxuries and many of the so-called comforts of life, are not only not indispensable, but positive hindrances to the elevation of mankind. –Henry David Thoreau
Happiness, it seems, is not a factor of how much you have. You can feel happy listening to a good song, you can feel happy witnessing a beautiful sunrise, you can feel happy in any number of ways that don't require any possessions at all.
So what causes happiness? 那么，幸福源于何处呢？
Happiness, to me, is the result of a decision to be happy. I feel all the happy people I have met, whether in villages or on Wall Street, had just decided to be happy. No matter what the situation, they just smile. The ones who are not happy have postponed their happiness, they have made it contingent upon some event, some amount of money, a certain status... They have put certain limitations on their happiness. They don't believe that the only limitations we have are the ones we put on ourselves.
The happy ones remove all conditions on their happiness. They are dedicated to their decision to be happy, they focus on it constantly. They are not perfect, they falter sometimes. But their focus comes back quickly. They have brought happiness into routine, they have made it a habit.
A few things to try 要尝试的一些事
Go ahead and make your own resolve to be happy. Practice it, try to be happy no matter what. If you falter(and you will falter, many times), don't feel guilty, just bring your focus back to your resolve. Slowly, you will find a sense of lasting happiness.
Denounce the idea of working for a 'future happiness'. Instead, form goals that make you feel happy right now, form goals that make you feel enthusiastic and passionate in this, present moment.
Listen to that favorite song of yours. Make a resolution to not think about anything till it ends. This is a simple choice, totally in your hands. No one can force you, without your complicity, to not enjoy.
Look at a beautiful picture, play with your kid, talk to a genuine friend...
Happiness is so readily available, right now!

短篇小说：婚礼上的一见钟情
In August 2005, he attended a wedding in the small mountain town of Grand Lake, Colo. He arrived alone for a weekend of events populated mostly by married couples. Then, at a lakeside gathering after the rehearsal dinner, Nora Burnett passed by in a flash of green pashmina, tan skin and glistening hair.

She seemed “electric,” remembered Mr. Abrams, a gregarious Denver native and Harvard graduate known to favor ski slopes and rodeos. Now an owner of a mergers and acquisitions advisory firm in nearby Englewood, he remembers being captivated by Ms. Burnett’s hearty laughter. “She was confident and charming and radiant,” said Mr. Abrams, 30.

But he didn’t make a move, because he assumed the man at her side, Stuart Nagae, was her husband.

Unfortunately, Mr. Abrams looked away just as she left with Mr. Nagae — and his wife.

The next night it was Ms. Burnett’s turn to notice Mr. Abrams as he boarded a bus carrying guests to the wedding. She was immediately attracted to his “upbeat, optimistic, fun-loving personality,” said Ms. Burnett, also 30, a born-and-bred New Yorker who is a doctoral student in art history at New York University.

At the reception she tried to catch his eye, “but he wasn’t paying any attention,” she said. So she enlisted Mr. Nagae, a former classmate of hers at Stanford, as her wingman. But as they approached Mr. Abrams, he abruptly turned and left the room.

“In my mind she was married,” said Mr. Abrams, who had started his first company at 25 but had never had a long-term relationship, “I kept noticing her in spite of myself.”

This went on until the morning hours as they made their way to an after-party at the Lariat Saloon. They were both a little worse for wear, with Ms. Burnett sporting a six-inch wine stain on the front of her ivory dress.

“All of a sudden I turned around and she was right next to me,” Mr. Abrams said. “Then I noticed her hand.”

There was no wedding ring. He was confused yet hopeful, and fo