About this time every year, I get very nostalgic(怀旧的). Walking through my neighborhood on a fall afternoon reminds me of a time not too long ago when sounds of children filled the air, children playing games on a hill, and throwing leaves around in the street below. I was one of those children, carefree and happy. I live on a street that is only one block long. I have lived on the same street for sixteen years. I love my street. One side has six houses on it, and the other has only two houses, with a small hill in the middle and a huge cottonwood tree on one end. When I think of home, I think of my street. Only I see it as it was before. Unfortunately things change. One day, not long ago, I looked around and saw how different everything has become. Life on my street will never be the same because neighbors are quickly grown old, friends are growing up and leaving, and the city is planning to destroy my precious hill and sell the property to contractors.
It is hard for me to accept that many of my wonderful neighbors are growing old and won’t be around much longer. I have fond memories of the couple across the street, who sat together on their porch swing almost every evening, the widow next door who yelled at my brother and me for being too loud, and the crazy old man in a black suit who drove an old car. In contrast to those people, the people I see today are very old neighbors who have seen better days. The man in the black suit says he wants to die, and another neighbor just sold his house and moved into a nursing home. The lady who used to yell at us is too tired to bother any more, and the couple across the street rarely go out to their front porch these days. It is difficult to watch these precious people as they near the end of their lives because at once I thought they would live forever.
The “comings and goings” of the younger generation of my street are now mostly “goings” as friends and peers move on. Once upon a time, my life and the lives of my peers revolved around home. The boundary of our world was the gutter at the end of the street. We got pleasure from playing night games or from a breathtaking ride on a tricycle. Things are different now, as my friends become adults and move on. Children who rode tricycles now drive cars. The kids who once played with me now have new interests and values as they go their separate ways. Some have gone away to college like me, a few got married, two went into the army, and one went to prison. Watching all these people grow up and go away makes me long for the good old days.
Perhaps the biggest change on my street is the fact that the city is going to turn my precious hill into several lots for new homes. For sixteen years, the view out of my kitchen window has been a view of that hill. The hill was a fundamental part of my childhood life; it was the hub of social activity for the children of my street. We spent hours there building forts, sledding, and playing tag. The view out of my kitchen window now is very different; it is one of tractors and dump trucks tearing up the hill. When the hill goes, the neighborhood will not be the same. It is a piece of my childhood. It is a visual reminder of being a kid. Without the hill, my street will be just another pea in the pod.
There was a time when my street was my world, and I thought my world would never change. But something happened. People grow up, and people grow old. Places changes, and with the change comes the heartache of knowing I can never go back to the times I loved. In a year or so, I will be gone just like many of my neighbors. I will always look back to my years as a child, but the place I remember will not be the silent street whose peace is interrupted by the sounds of construction. It will be the happy, noisy, somewhat strange, but wonderful street I knew as a child.
【小题1】The writer calls up the memory of the street _____________.

第二节完形填空（共20小题；每小题1.5分，满分30分）

阅读下面短文，掌握其大意，从每题所给的A、B、C、D四个选项中，选出最佳选项。

I have lived in Falmouth for about 10 years. I had moved several times before finding Falmouth,  36   setting in one place for a long time. My favorite experience of Falmouth was when I   37   to deliver Thanksgiving dinner to families or individuals unable to drive or suffering from illness. It was (a)n   38   experience.

Volunteers checked in, lined up and followed the   39   given. There were many people working. How they manage all of this is quite amazing. The   40   of such an event is inspiring.

The best part of the day was delivering the food to homes.   41  , they had enough drivers and no assignment for us.   42  , the gentleman in front of us checking in had six meals to deliver. So my husband and I   43   him, offering to help him fill his box and take the meals to his car. He was   44   and we began our task. When he was   45     to deliver his quota(配额，限额), he handed us one of the delivery cards, saying, “Since this is your first time, I want you to be able to feel the   46   that comes from meeting the people.” I   47   that I was somewhat nervous at this first   48  . Who knows what I might find behind a stranger’s door.

We rang the doorbell and were met by an extremely   49   man. He asked us inside and from the hallway, I could see the silver   50  of a walker approaching. We saw a little old lady. She expressed deep gratitude for the delivery.   51   she had been diagnosed with cancer, she has had trouble getting out. She could not have been any more gracious and handed me a beautiful scarf she had made and an envelope of   52   to the homeless. Can you imagine? Cancer, unable to get out to gather dinner and she still   53   such deep gratitude. We   54   but not before we hugged goodbye. The gentleman that was kind enough to give us one of his deliveries was   55  . This was the best part.

36. A. still                   B. never                      C. even                 D. ever

37. A. volunteered           B. failed                      C. pretended        D. happened

38. A. confusing       B. strange             C. amazing           D. secret

39. A. troubles             B. helpers             C. directions         D. cars

40. A. hope            B. reason              C. goal                 D. harmony

41. A. At once             B. For this reason   C. At first             D. Shortly afterwards

42. A. However            B. Furthermore     C. Therefore         D. Otherwise

43. A. cheated              B. approached       C. passed            D. remembered

44. A. disappointed       B. sympathetic      C. angry                      D. grateful

45. A. allowed            B. forced            C. refused           D. driven

46. A. regret              B. panic                C. surprise          D. joy

47. A. forgive              B. admitted           C. dreamt             D. hoped

48. A. expression        B. embarrassment   C. task                D. agreement

49. A friendly              B. cruel              C. worried            D. depressed

50. A. wings            B. legs                C. rings              D. lines

51. A. Unless             B. If                   C. Although               D. Since

52. A. thanks                  B. tickets             C. donation         D. advice

53. A. hid                  B. exhibited          C. saved              D. exchanged

54. A. left                  B. promised               C. met                  D. greeted

55. A. risky            B. challengeable     C. right               D. stupid

About this time every year, I get very nostalgic(怀旧的). Walking through my neighborhood on a fall afternoon reminds me of a time not too long ago when sounds of children filled the air, children playing games on a hill, and throwing leaves around in the street below. I was one of those children, carefree and happy. I live on a street that is only one block long. I have lived on the same street for sixteen years. I love my street. One side has six houses on it, and the other has only two houses, with a small hill in the middle and a huge cottonwood tree on one end. When I think of home, I think of my street. Only I see it as it was before. Unfortunately things change. One day, not long ago, I looked around and saw how different everything has become. Life on my street will never be the same because neighbors are quickly grown old, friends are growing up and leaving, and the city is planning to destroy my precious hill and sell the property to contractors.
It is hard for me to accept that many of my wonderful neighbors are growing old and won’t be around much longer. I have fond memories of the couple across the street, who sat together on their porch swing almost every evening, the widow next door who yelled at my brother and me for being too loud, and the crazy old man in a black suit who drove an old car. In contrast to those people, the people I see today are very old neighbors who have seen better days. The man in the black suit says he wants to die, and another neighbor just sold his house and moved into a nursing home. The lady who used to yell at us is too tired to bother any more, and the couple across the street rarely go out to their front porch these days. It is difficult to watch these precious people as they near the end of their lives because at once I thought they would live forever.
The “comings and goings” of the younger generation of my street are now mostly “goings” as friends and peers move on. Once upon a time, my life and the lives of my peers revolved around home. The boundary of our world was the gutter at the end of the street. We got pleasure from playing night games or from a breathtaking ride on a tricycle. Things are different now, as my friends become adults and move on. Children who rode tricycles now drive cars. The kids who once played with me now have new interests and values as they go their separate ways. Some have gone away to college like me, a few got married, two went into the army, and one went to prison. Watching all these people grow up and go away makes me long for the good old days.
Perhaps the biggest change on my street is the fact that the city is going to turn my precious hill into several lots for now homes. For sixteen years, the view out of my kitchen window has been a view of that hill. The hill was a fundamental part of my childhood life; it was the hub of social activity for the children of my street. We spent hours there building forts, sledding, and playing tag. The view out of my kitchen window now is very different; it is one of tractors and dump trucks tearing up the hill. When the hill goes, the neighborhood will not be the same. It is a piece of my childhood. It is a visual reminder of being a kid. Without the hill, my street will be just another pea in the pod.
There was a time when my street was my world, and I thought my world would never change. But something happened. People grow up, and people grow old. Places changes, and with the change comes the heartache of knowing I can never go back to the times I loved. In a year or so, I will be gone just like many of my neighbors. I will always look back to my years as a child, but the place I remember will not be the silent street whose peace is interrupted by the sounds of construction. It will be the happy, noisy, somewhat strange, but wonderful street I knew as a child.
【小题1】The writer calls up the memory of the street _____________.

I was a single parent with my son. Two jobs allowed me an apartment, food, and child care payment. Little money was left over for clothes,   1   I kept us nicely dressed. Loving    2    , I bought for myself beautiful reds and oranges, and greens and pinks. And quite often I wore them in mixtures, which, against the usually correct way, brought   3    to the eyes of people who could not avoid    4     me.

I went to my son’s     5     frequently. And he would always come and greet me and my colorful clothes.    6    , when my son was six, he told me    7    that he had to talk to me.

“Mother, do you have any sweaters that    8    ?”

I said, “No, I don’t.”

 “Oh, I wish you did.     9    you could wear them to my school.” Then he continued, “Mother, could you please    10    come to school when they call you?” Then I realized that my dress was a(n)    11     to him.

I learned to be a little more careful to    12      causing him displeasure. As he grew older and more confident, I gradually    13     to my particular way of dressing. I was happier when I chose and created my own     14    .

I have lived in this body all my life and know it much    15    than any fashion designer. I think I know what looks good   16     me.

    17      is important to mention because many people are imprisoned by powerful principles on the    18    way of dressing. Those decisions made by    19     are not truly meant to make your life better. Seek the fashion which truly suits you. You will always be in fashion if you are    20     to yourself.

1. A. but                B. and             C. or                   D. because

2. A. shapes           B. styles          C. colors            D. tastes

3. A. envy            B. appreciation   C. disappointment      D. surprise 

4. A. recognizing       B. admiring      C. accepting         D. noticing

5. A. office             B. home          C. school             D. lab

6. A. However         B. Meanwhile     C. Otherwise         D. Therefore

7. A. proudly            B. jokingly         C. seriously            D. curiously

8. A. cost             B. work           C. fit              D. match

9. A. Even if             B. As if             C. So that             D. In case

10. A. only            B. still             C. once            D. ever

11. A. wonder          B. surprise        C. embarrassment    D. honor

12. A. practice           B. remember         C. mind              D. avoid

13. A. turned           B. returned        C. escaped          D. took

13. A. fashion            B. sweater           C. color             D. tradition

15. A. better            B. worse           C. more           D. less

16. A. in               B. on               C. with           D. of 

17. A. Dress           B. Money           C. Principles      D. Designers

18. A. experienced      B. proper           C. formal          D. simple

19. A. me             B. yourself          C. others          D. ones

20. A. true             B. serious          C. practical        D. responsible

About this time every year, I get very nostalgic(怀旧的). Walking through my neighborhood on a fall afternoon reminds me of a time not too long ago when sounds of children filled the air, children playing games on a hill, and throwing leaves around in the street below. I was one of those children, carefree and happy. I live on a street that is only one block long. I have lived on the same street for sixteen years. I love my street. One side has six houses on it, and the other has only two houses, with a small hill in the middle and a huge cottonwood tree on one end. When I think of home, I think of my street. Only I see it as it was before. Unfortunately things change. One day, not long ago, I looked around and saw how different everything has become. Life on my street will never be the same because neighbors are quickly grown old, friends are growing up and leaving, and the city is planning to destroy my precious hill and sell the property to contractors.

    It is hard for me to accept that many of my wonderful neighbors are growing old and won’t be around much longer. I have fond memories of the couple across the street, who sat together on their porch swing almost every evening, the widow next door who yelled at my brother and me for being too loud, and the crazy old man in a black suit who drove an old car. In contrast to those people, the people I see today are very old neighbors who have seen better days. The man in the black suit says he wants to die, and another neighbor just sold his house and moved into a nursing home. The lady who used to yell at us is too tired to bother any more, and the couple across the street rarely go out to their front porch these days. It is difficult to watch these precious people as they near the end of their lives because at once I thought they would live forever.

    The “comings and goings” of the younger generation of my street are now mostly “goings” as friends and peers move on. Once upon a time, my life and the lives of my peers revolved around home. The boundary of our world was the gutter at the end of the street. We got pleasure from playing night games or from a breathtaking ride on a tricycle. Things are different now, as my friends become adults and move on. Children who rode tricycles now drive cars. The kids who once played with me now have new interests and values as they go their separate ways. Some have gone away to college like me, a few got married, two went into the army, and one went to prison. Watching all these people grow up and go away makes me long for the good old days.

    Perhaps the biggest change on my street is the fact that the city is going to turn my precious hill into several lots for now homes. For sixteen years, the view out of my kitchen window has been a view of that hill. The hill was a fundamental part of my childhood life; it was the hub of social activity for the children of my street. We spent hours there building forts, sledding, and playing tag. The view out of my kitchen window now is very different; it is one of tractors and dump trucks tearing up the hill. When the hill goes, the neighborhood will not be the same. It is a piece of my childhood. It is a visual reminder of being a kid. Without the hill, my street will be just another pea in the pod.

There was a time when my street was my world, and I thought my world would never change. But something happened. People grow up, and people grow old. Places changes, and with the change comes the heartache of knowing I can never go back to the times I loved. In a year or so, I will be gone just like many of my neighbors. I will always look back to my years as a child, but the place I remember will not be the silent street whose peace is interrupted by the sounds of construction. It will be the happy, noisy, somewhat strange, but wonderful street I knew as a child.

1.The writer calls up the memory of the street _____________.

A. every year when autumn comes

B. in the afternoon every day

C. every time he walks along his street

D. now that he is an old man

2.The writer finds it hard to accept the fact that _____________.

A. many of his good neighbors are growing old

B. the lady next door who used to yell at him and his brother is now a widow

C. the life of his neighbors has become very boring

D. the man in his black suit even wanted to end his own life

3.The writer thinks of the past all the more when he sees those who had grown up with him _____________.

A. continue to consider home to be the center of their lives

B. leave the neighborhood they grew up in

C. still enjoy playing card games in the evenings

D. develop new interests and have new dreams

4.The biggest change on the writer's street is _____________.

A. removing the hill to make way for residential development

B. the building of new homes behind his kitchen window

C. the fact that there are much fewer people around than in the past

D. the change in his childhood friends' attitude towards their neighborhood

5.What does the writer mean by saying “my street will be another pea in the     pod”?

A. his street will be very noisy and dirty

B. his street will soon be crowded with people

C. his street will have some new attractions

D. his street will be no different from any other street

6.Which could be a good title for the passage?

A. The Past of My Street will Live Forever

B. Unforgettable People and Things of My Street

C. Memory Street Isn't What It Used to Be

D. The Big Changes of My Street