Step-Stair Investigation For my GCSE Maths coursework I was asked to investigate the relationship between the stair total and the position of the stair shape on the grid. Secondly I was asked to investigate the relationship further between the stair totals and the other step stairs on other number grids. The number grid below has two examples of 3-step stairs. I will use Algebra as a way to find the relationship between the stair total and the position of the stair on the grid. I will
Number Stairs: Totals and Positions When I have worked out the formulas for 5 different size stairs on 3 different grid sizes, I will go on to investigate the relationship between all of the formulas. From this I will be able to discover the ultimate formula that will allow me to work out any stair size on any size grid and in any position. As any other formula I will need to predict and prove it, to check that it is correct. But I also need to investigate if there is anywhere on the
roof, and the paint is chipping from years of wind and snow. The house was constructed on the slope of the mountain, and a long flight of stairs must be climbed to reach the first floor. The deck extends from the house on three sides, on both the first and second floors. It is a grand old house. Watching my step carefully, I climbed up the long flight of stairs to the first floor. I reached my hand out to grab the handrail, only to pull it away quickly as I received a sharp prick from the rough
she knew the part of Chic that she lived in really well. They were only walking for a little bit. How did we get to a place I don’t recognize at all, she thought. She was following Jest into a light pink building. They went up two flights of red stairs, and down a hall. The floors, walls, and ceiling of the hall were royal blue. They came to an emerald door. Jest told Bliss to open it. As Bliss opened it, she was shocked at how white the room was. There was nothing in the room except a magenta
The aroma must have reminded my mother to afford the roast a checkup, for she had abandoned the laundry and was ascending the stairs. Now, I don’t believe much in the extrasensory, but I distinctly remember having a bad, bad feeling when my mother traversed the last step. Whatever this premonition may have been, it had me at my feet and waiting at the bottom of the stairs for a scream I already knew was coming. No foreshadowing could have prepared me for it, though. Her scream hit me like a cy-
foyer was a door that led to the kitchen. The kitchen was old a musty smelling. As I walked to the back of the kitchen, I noticed a door. I stared at it. A second later it opened! I ran out of the kitchen as fast as I could and ran up the stairs. Up stairs it was even darker. I saw a long narrow hallway with a lot of doors on both sides and on the end. I checked all of the doors and I could only get into one of them. I walked into the one that I could get into and heard someone yelling and
wooden windowsill and my little pug nose pressed against the window pain. My breath delivered a frosty appearance on the glass as my eyes strained to see my mother step out of her car. My toes ached with pain as I fought to stay in view with the outside world. Too late. I could already hear my mothers graceful footsteps ascend the stairs. She carefully opened the door that entered my kitchen, and I flung myself into her arms. My mother yelped with shock and a hint of exhaustion, “Meggie honey, Mommy
dirt road that leads to the cabins surrounding and including the one owned by my family. We pull into the short driveway. A cozy, naturalistic cabin that I will be calling home for the next week stands proudly at the end. When we get to the top, I step out of the Jeep and am greeted by an almost complete silence. There is no human besides my father and me for miles. Two chipmunks chase each other around to my left. I think to myself, "This is what I have needed for a long time." My mind continues
and I would spend next to the rose garden, in front of the statue. I knew I was getting close. Next, I saw the roses in the distance from where I was, walking towards the stairs that lead to the rose garden. I remembered walking in the same general direction. I was closer. Then I got to the stairs. As I was walking down the steps I looked to my right. There was a statue of a beautiful woman, not the right statue. Finally, I looked to my left, and there it was. My heart skipped a beat. I could remember
to eat my own bitterness. And even though I taught my daughter the opposite, still she came out the same way! Maybe it is because she was born to me and she was born a girl. And I was born to my mother and I was born a girl. All of us are like stairs, one step after another, going up and down, but all going the same way"(Tan 289). As the story unfolds, both mothers and daughters are forced to face "truths" that their own private histories had previously blinded them to. Yet, as readers, we must
As I grumbled and griped about having an honors band rehersal only hours before the concert - as i complained about the growing callus on my thumb, about the gay kid with the neckstrap who was first chair clarinet, as i lamented the fact I could NEVER play this music, that i wouldn't get any better in that small practice, so WHY bother- my uncle killed himself. in the basement of his very own house at that, with a gun. his two little girls and pregnant wife left him, and he took his own
very first line the husband watches his wife as she looks out the window (line 1). Since immediately after she turns around he asks what she is so interested in, it is clear that he was thinking about what could be troubling her as he saw her on the stairs. Twice he refers to her as "dear" (12 and 44). It is not often the case that people who are wholly unsympathetic to another call that person by an endearment and contemplate their distress. On th... ... middle of paper ... ...ind, stubborn
is fictional. Another quality that is prevalent in this poem is its metaphors. The extended metaphor, which is a metaphor that is stated and then developed throughout the poem, is that the mother believes that “Life for [her] ain’t been no crystal stair” (Hughes 232). By explaini...
be so bad after all. At least a bore has control and a plan for his life, something he sees as admirable in Sally and a wish for himself. However, when “Sally started coming up the stairs, and [Holden] started down to meet her” (124) it represents the relationship between the two, Holden is always taking those few steps down as to not make Sally look dumb and she must always go the extra mile to show him how intelligent she can be. This relationship is highlighted during the intermission of the play
There he stands atop the stairs of the Lincoln Memorial, in the nations’ capital, at a podium, speaking to the world. The crowds faces full of hope. Ears opened wide and clear, for the Dr. is speaking today. He is speaking from the heart and telling the nation that he has a “DREAM.” Dr. King had a dream and as most people think that it is geared towards blacks and whites, it’s not. Dr. King wanted equality between everybody. He wanted freedom from racism and prejudice throughout the nation. He was
Stillness Seeking Onto the terracotta patio I step silently Past lavender climbing twisting vines The honey drops sunlight sprinkled Golden My mother a paintbrush in her hand She touches color to canvas Soft yellow orange, light Emerges My father beyond resting seated A cat slumbers purrs on his shoulder A pen in his hand he touches white page Reflects light reflects Together Creating When I saw Vermeer's Girl with a Pearl Earring about five years ago at the National Gallery
"Christopher'' My mother and father shouted from down stairs. I jumped out of my bed and peered at my alarm clock. I was just bale to see it as I the darkness of the winter mornings had taken over my room. "Christopher" this time it was shouted louder. "I am up" I shouted back not quite as loud as I may have got in trouble. I could not be bothered to have a shower this morning so I just slipped on my clothes and headed for down stairs. As I was walking I had felt something rough pass
to have power over him with words and to get a loved one killed by a car that she was walking toward("When he came outside again a little after seven he was reminded of the conversation because he heard Mrs. Wilson's voice, load and scolding, down stairs in the garage "Beat me!" he heard her cry. "Throw me down and beat me, you dirty little coward!" A moment later she rushed out into the dusk, waving her hands and shouting; before he could move from his door the business was over. The "death car"
to the cold aching silence. In the distance we listened to three loud car horns and a door slam. We, then, jumped away from the window and started down the stairs. Half way down the stairs, we stopped dead in our tracks. The roof began to rattle as if someone was climbing across it. Our pulses raced as we flew down the remainder of the stairs. Thump-thump, breath. We huddled together in the kitchen. For our safety, we gathered a sharp knife and a phone. We came up with explanations to relieve our
her cheeks rosy. She smiled curiously. Looking back, maybe it was less the wind and more the circumstances. It had been quite sometime since our last encounter, two months, if my memory served me. “Shall we,” I said leading the way. Down the stairs of the subway station we passed through the turnstile, I first, then she. Subway’s no way for a good man to go down, rich man won’t ride and the hobo he can drown. Waiting for the 6 train I began to fidget, as Elton John’s lyrics bounced back