<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096</id><updated>2012-02-10T15:01:41.337-08:00</updated><category term='férias'/><category term='escuteiros'/><category term='A praia dos surfistas'/><title type='text'>Blog dos Textos</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>A Turma das "Super Formigas"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15517324900871799811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>78</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-7144010037652627336</id><published>2012-02-10T14:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-10T14:50:02.685-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-P5qoJ7EuBtg/TzOzQIiMDFI/AAAAAAAAANQ/TyO4XQjVEO8/s1600/c%25C3%25A3o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5707102242558708818" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-P5qoJ7EuBtg/TzOzQIiMDFI/AAAAAAAAANQ/TyO4XQjVEO8/s320/c%25C3%25A3o.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 302px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O cão do Pedro&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;No dia 23 de fevereiro, o Pedro comprou um cão numa das lojas de animais.&lt;br /&gt;Quando chegou a casa construiu-lhe uma casota. O Pedro deu lhe o nome de Tó.&lt;br /&gt;O Tó fez 5 meses no dia 3 de fevereiro de 2012.&lt;br /&gt;O Pedro foi mostrar o cão ao seu pai Romeu.&lt;br /&gt;O pai acordou e foi ver o cão e disse:&lt;br /&gt;-Este cão é muito bom e bonito! Já lhe deste nome? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Texto de Francisco Nunes do 2º ano da turma D&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-7144010037652627336?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/7144010037652627336/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/o-cao-do-pedro-no-dia-23-de-fevereiro-o.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/7144010037652627336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/7144010037652627336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/o-cao-do-pedro-no-dia-23-de-fevereiro-o.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-P5qoJ7EuBtg/TzOzQIiMDFI/AAAAAAAAANQ/TyO4XQjVEO8/s72-c/c%25C3%25A3o.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-8451628373189552505</id><published>2012-02-09T03:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-10T14:36:51.369-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kJ9BUR26st8/TzOzjRofbxI/AAAAAAAAANc/er7Y0JaXDFo/s1600/characters_bolt.png"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5707102571418578706" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kJ9BUR26st8/TzOzjRofbxI/AAAAAAAAANc/er7Y0JaXDFo/s320/characters_bolt.png" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 275px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 166px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color: red; font-size: 180%;"&gt;O meu cão&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O meu cão fugiu ontem à noite.&lt;br /&gt;Ao fim de uma hora o cão voltou.&lt;br /&gt;Depois o meu pai, a minha mãe, a minha mana e eu inventámos um nome para ele. &lt;br /&gt;Eu disse Bolt.&lt;br /&gt;-Vamos a votos!-disse a minha mana.&lt;br /&gt;O que teve mais votos foi o Bolt.&lt;br /&gt;O meu cão ficou a chamar-se Bolt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Texto de Pedro Margarido do 2º ano da turma D&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-8451628373189552505?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/8451628373189552505/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/o-meu-cao-o-meu-cao-fugiu-ontem-noite.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/8451628373189552505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/8451628373189552505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/o-meu-cao-o-meu-cao-fugiu-ontem-noite.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kJ9BUR26st8/TzOzjRofbxI/AAAAAAAAANc/er7Y0JaXDFo/s72-c/characters_bolt.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-2714608039906677618</id><published>2012-02-09T03:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-10T14:39:09.730-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A Ginástica&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No dia 8 de fevereiro de 2012, nós os alunos da Turma D jogámos um jogo novo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Depois quando acabou o jogo, nós fomos jogar às escondidas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E depois acabou o dia de ginástica.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Texto de Guilherme Gomes do 2º ano&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://fotos.sapo.pt/axterisco/pic/0000cdqb" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-2714608039906677618?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/2714608039906677618/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/ginastica-no-dia-8-de-fevereiro-de-2012.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/2714608039906677618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/2714608039906677618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/ginastica-no-dia-8-de-fevereiro-de-2012.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-5652778592515059197</id><published>2012-02-09T03:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-10T14:41:45.996-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5707098652450504994" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ztYgp_grzz0/TzOv_KVsQSI/AAAAAAAAAMI/gWHXbaX7grI/s320/aniversario_turma_da_monica.gif" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 185px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 165px;" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;O aniversário do Ivan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;　&lt;br /&gt;No dia 15 de fevereiro de 2012, eu vou fazer 8 anos na escola.&lt;br /&gt;Eu vou convidar quatro pessoas.&lt;br /&gt;O meu bolo vai ser de chocolate.&lt;br /&gt;O professor, como é hábito&amp;nbsp;vai-me enfiar o bolo na cara.&lt;br /&gt;Eu não vou ficar chateado.&lt;br /&gt;Eu vou gostar de fazer 8 anos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Texto de Ivan Catarino do 2º ano da turma D&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-5652778592515059197?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/5652778592515059197/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/o-aniversario-do-ivan-no-dia-15-de.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/5652778592515059197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/5652778592515059197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/o-aniversario-do-ivan-no-dia-15-de.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ztYgp_grzz0/TzOv_KVsQSI/AAAAAAAAAMI/gWHXbaX7grI/s72-c/aniversario_turma_da_monica.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-6377799212190784027</id><published>2012-02-09T03:33:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-10T14:44:25.534-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9cHGzKCBTcE/TzOx1w3VZ0I/AAAAAAAAAM4/_UZ1N8AcqGc/s1600/Estrela.gif"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5707100690016724802" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9cHGzKCBTcE/TzOx1w3VZ0I/AAAAAAAAAM4/_UZ1N8AcqGc/s320/Estrela.gif" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 305px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;As Estrelas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No dia 8 de fevereiro de 2012 nós, os alunos da Turma D fizemos os fatos de Carnaval.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;As auxiliares&amp;nbsp;recortaram as&amp;nbsp;estrelas e os alunos colaram os papeis.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Nós tínhamos feito cola com farinha, água e açúcar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;As estrelas são para o carnaval.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Eu fiquei todo sujo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Texto de Filipe Alexandre do 2º ano da Turma D&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-6377799212190784027?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/6377799212190784027/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/as-estrelas-no-dia-8-de-fevereiro-de.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/6377799212190784027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/6377799212190784027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/as-estrelas-no-dia-8-de-fevereiro-de.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9cHGzKCBTcE/TzOx1w3VZ0I/AAAAAAAAAM4/_UZ1N8AcqGc/s72-c/Estrela.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-323465697357195250</id><published>2012-02-09T03:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-10T14:47:37.741-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zeZDP1SE2zc/TzOurycNK9I/AAAAAAAAALw/XoB4swkrOqo/s1600/as%2Bflores.gif"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5707097220106234834" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zeZDP1SE2zc/TzOurycNK9I/AAAAAAAAALw/XoB4swkrOqo/s320/as%2Bflores.gif" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 294px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;As flores&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No dia 5 de fevereiro de 2012, eu e a minha mãe fomos regar as flores da minha casa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As flores desabrocharam no Natal.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Elas antes de abrirem estavam num botão. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As flores são preciosas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eu gosto muito das flores.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;Texto de Sofia Gonçalves e Sara Pequeno do 2º ano da turma D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-323465697357195250?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/323465697357195250/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/as-flores-no-dia-5-de-fevereiro-de-2012_09.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/323465697357195250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/323465697357195250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/as-flores-no-dia-5-de-fevereiro-de-2012_09.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zeZDP1SE2zc/TzOurycNK9I/AAAAAAAAALw/XoB4swkrOqo/s72-c/as%2Bflores.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-6324764633351098104</id><published>2012-02-09T03:29:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-10T14:52:18.753-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Z2fHSbIybOI/TzOy-V1s3wI/AAAAAAAAANE/njmcKsOAFcA/s1600/formiga.gif"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5707101936892567298" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Z2fHSbIybOI/TzOy-V1s3wI/AAAAAAAAANE/njmcKsOAFcA/s320/formiga.gif" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 111px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 166px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O Caracol e a Formiga&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No dia 1 de fevereiro de 2012 eu fui ao Parque e vi um caracol e também vi uma formiga. No dia seguinte o caracol foi a uma corrida e a formigas deu a partida para os carros dos caracóis e as formigas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Texto de Cátia da Turma D do 2 ano&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-6324764633351098104?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/6324764633351098104/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/o-caracol-e-formiga-no-dia-1-de.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/6324764633351098104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/6324764633351098104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/o-caracol-e-formiga-no-dia-1-de.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Z2fHSbIybOI/TzOy-V1s3wI/AAAAAAAAANE/njmcKsOAFcA/s72-c/formiga.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-8573207682333882404</id><published>2012-02-09T03:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-09T03:51:41.989-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-efdwFTFL9PA/TzOu63YVHtI/AAAAAAAAAL8/ltegwoIExIs/s1600/CARACOL%2B%25281%2529.png"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 294px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5707097479130193618" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-efdwFTFL9PA/TzOu63YVHtI/AAAAAAAAAL8/ltegwoIExIs/s320/CARACOL%2B%25281%2529.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#003300;"&gt;O caracol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;No dia 23 de janeiro de 2012 eu encontrei um caracol. Ele era meu amigo e chamava-se Armado. Ele era bonito e castanho e lento. Nós fizemos uma corrida e eu ganhei porque o caracol é lento. Eu fiz uma casa muito bonita e quente. O Armado dormiu na seu casa quente. Eu gostei muito do meu amigo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;Texto de Inês Baião do 2º ano da turma D &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-8573207682333882404?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/8573207682333882404/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/o-caracol-no-dia-23-de-janeiro-de-2012.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/8573207682333882404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/8573207682333882404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/o-caracol-no-dia-23-de-janeiro-de-2012.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-efdwFTFL9PA/TzOu63YVHtI/AAAAAAAAAL8/ltegwoIExIs/s72-c/CARACOL%2B%25281%2529.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-7778796965253782650</id><published>2012-02-09T03:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-09T03:27:12.471-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d-5u7LKs3cs/TzOtdkYuadI/AAAAAAAAALk/GGFM7iCubMs/s1600/menino.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 281px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d-5u7LKs3cs/TzOtdkYuadI/AAAAAAAAALk/GGFM7iCubMs/s320/menino.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5707095876303743442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span  &gt;O Joel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span &gt;No dia 8 de fevereiro a mãe do Joel comprou-lhe um gatinho.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span &gt;O Joel ficou  muito contente.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span &gt;O Joel fez festas e abraços o Joel gosta muito do gatinho.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span &gt;O Joel gosta muito do gatinho.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Texto de Filipe Alexandre do 2º ano da Turma D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-7778796965253782650?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/7778796965253782650/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/o-joel-no-dia-8-de-fevereiro-mae-do.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/7778796965253782650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/7778796965253782650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/o-joel-no-dia-8-de-fevereiro-mae-do.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d-5u7LKs3cs/TzOtdkYuadI/AAAAAAAAALk/GGFM7iCubMs/s72-c/menino.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-4989909650449975250</id><published>2012-02-09T03:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-10T14:56:06.069-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SbYDoHLawww/TzOq0_5JlxI/AAAAAAAAALY/JkUcOniv-B0/s1600/6jock6e%2B%25281%2529.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5707092980289607442" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SbYDoHLawww/TzOq0_5JlxI/AAAAAAAAALY/JkUcOniv-B0/s320/6jock6e%2B%25281%2529.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 266px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Os computadores&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;No dia 9 de fevereiro de 2012 os alunos da turma D estão a passar textos para o seu bloque.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Mas alguns alunos estão a fazer os textos da semana, que são dois.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;E o professor Americo está a ver os trabalhos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;E depois toca a campainha e pode ser um dia muito giro.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-4989909650449975250?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/4989909650449975250/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/os-computadores-no-dia-9-de-fevereiro.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/4989909650449975250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/4989909650449975250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/os-computadores-no-dia-9-de-fevereiro.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SbYDoHLawww/TzOq0_5JlxI/AAAAAAAAALY/JkUcOniv-B0/s72-c/6jock6e%2B%25281%2529.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-3292774657396299026</id><published>2012-02-09T02:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-09T02:55:54.457-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VKRH6AO25nU/TzOmFUm-ImI/AAAAAAAAALA/NtdqWQ10M_I/s1600/palito%252Bde%252Bunha%252Bparaju%252B5%252Bunidades%252Bvendemos%252Bno%252Batacado%252Bcom%252Bpreco%252Bdiferenciado%252Bcontagem%252Bmg%252Bbrasil__680E4D_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 118px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5707087763170271842" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VKRH6AO25nU/TzOmFUm-ImI/AAAAAAAAALA/NtdqWQ10M_I/s320/palito%252Bde%252Bunha%252Bparaju%252B5%252Bunidades%252Bvendemos%252Bno%252Batacado%252Bcom%252Bpreco%252Bdiferenciado%252Bcontagem%252Bmg%252Bbrasil__680E4D_1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;O palito e o croquete&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Ontem à noite o palito amarelo perguntou ao palito sem cor:&lt;br /&gt;Porque é que tu não te vais embora não fazes falta aqui.&lt;br /&gt;Então o ele disse assim:&lt;br /&gt;- Está bem eu também já estou farto de estar aqui.&lt;br /&gt;O palito sem cor foi embora daquela rua.&lt;br /&gt;Ao fim de uma semana chegou a uma terra chamada Berlinde vivia lá um croquete mas ele não sabia eu é que sei porque já lá fui.&lt;br /&gt;Ao fim de um pecado viu um croquete mas eles os dois chocaram.&lt;br /&gt;Depois foram para o escorrega e ficaram para sempre amigos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-3292774657396299026?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/3292774657396299026/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/o-palito-e-o-croquete-ontem-noite-o.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/3292774657396299026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/3292774657396299026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/o-palito-e-o-croquete-ontem-noite-o.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VKRH6AO25nU/TzOmFUm-ImI/AAAAAAAAALA/NtdqWQ10M_I/s72-c/palito%252Bde%252Bunha%252Bparaju%252B5%252Bunidades%252Bvendemos%252Bno%252Batacado%252Bcom%252Bpreco%252Bdiferenciado%252Bcontagem%252Bmg%252Bbrasil__680E4D_1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-397747184265224700</id><published>2012-02-03T13:10:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-03T17:38:31.737-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KN4GRU4_UnA/TyxNY569ONI/AAAAAAAAAK0/8BhTdHF95wM/s1600/pegasus2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705019918231877842" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KN4GRU4_UnA/TyxNY569ONI/AAAAAAAAAK0/8BhTdHF95wM/s320/pegasus2.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 239px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 143.5pt; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #7030a0; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;O cavalo que voa e a menina&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 143.5pt; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 18pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 143.5pt; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;Era uma vez uma menina que queria ter um cavalo que voava.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 143.5pt; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;Ela ia sempre buscar frutas para a mãe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 143.5pt; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;A menina chamava-se Verónica.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 143.5pt; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;A Verónica mal assobiou na floresta apareceu um cavalo com asas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 143.5pt; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;Ela mal se conseguia mexer, porque&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;ficou espantada!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 143.5pt; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;E&amp;nbsp;quando foi&amp;nbsp;para a escola ela disse:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 143.5pt; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;Vi&amp;nbsp;um cavalo com asas!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 143.5pt; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;Os colegas não acreditaram e gozaram com ela.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 143.5pt; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;A Verónica ficou triste.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 143.5pt; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;Mas quando os alunos foram fazer uma visita de estudo eles viram o cavalo e puseram-se todos atrás da Verónica.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 143.5pt; text-align: justify;"&gt;Então a &lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;Verónica foi com ele para a escola e todos&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;gostaram muito de voar.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 143.5pt; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Texto de Daniela Cardoso do 2º ano da turma D&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-397747184265224700?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/397747184265224700/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/o-cavalo-que-voa-e-menina-era-uma-vez_03.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/397747184265224700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/397747184265224700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/o-cavalo-que-voa-e-menina-era-uma-vez_03.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KN4GRU4_UnA/TyxNY569ONI/AAAAAAAAAK0/8BhTdHF95wM/s72-c/pegasus2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-6061609035367642582</id><published>2012-02-02T03:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-10T15:01:41.353-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9EknucKKLao/Typ9yTDcJ0I/AAAAAAAAAKE/me-8mIyazu8/s1600/cavalo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5704510181079787330" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9EknucKKLao/Typ9yTDcJ0I/AAAAAAAAAKE/me-8mIyazu8/s200/cavalo.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 200px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 200px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #ff9900; font-size: 180%;"&gt;O cavaleiro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;No dia 24 de janeiro de 2012, um cavaleiro, que se chama Tóqui apareceu na cidade. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;O cavalo chama-se Tó e corre muito depressa. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;O cavalo é castanho e branco. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Um dia, quando o Tóquio foi ver do Tó ele tinha fugido, para a floresta.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;O Tóqui nunca mais o viu e teve que comprar um cavalo novo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;Texto de Francisco Nunes do 2º ano da turma D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-6061609035367642582?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/6061609035367642582/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/o-cavaleiro-no-dia-24-de-janeiro-de.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/6061609035367642582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/6061609035367642582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/o-cavaleiro-no-dia-24-de-janeiro-de.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9EknucKKLao/Typ9yTDcJ0I/AAAAAAAAAKE/me-8mIyazu8/s72-c/cavalo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-4821080903796226313</id><published>2012-02-02T03:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-02T16:05:22.202-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zYM1baPgj4U/Typ7dgdhKLI/AAAAAAAAAJU/aZHdOQXqNVw/s1600/cavalo"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5704507624878319794" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zYM1baPgj4U/Typ7dgdhKLI/AAAAAAAAAJU/aZHdOQXqNVw/s200/cavalo" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 150px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 200px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue; font-size: 180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A Lara&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: #33ccff; font-size: 180%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;No dia 2 de janeiro, a Lara foi passear e a Carina foi com o seu cavalo.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A Carina foi ao supermercado no cavalo da Lara e da Sara e fizeram uma refeição deliciosa.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Depois passo no hotel com o pai.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ela passou no hotel com as suas bonecas.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;E foi um dia lindo para Carina e para a Lara .&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Texto de Cátia Alves passado no computador por Cátia e Carina Filipa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-4821080903796226313?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/4821080903796226313/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/lara-no-dia-2-de-janeiro-lara-foi.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/4821080903796226313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/4821080903796226313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/lara-no-dia-2-de-janeiro-lara-foi.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zYM1baPgj4U/Typ7dgdhKLI/AAAAAAAAAJU/aZHdOQXqNVw/s72-c/cavalo' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-3953949834433183714</id><published>2012-02-02T03:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-02T16:08:41.506-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WoSmo2vG1Og/Typ2TVqY2HI/AAAAAAAAAIY/NLQfc4GTLkY/s1600/cao.gif"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5704501952622680178" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WoSmo2vG1Og/Typ2TVqY2HI/AAAAAAAAAIY/NLQfc4GTLkY/s200/cao.gif" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 142px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 200px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A prenda do Luís&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;　&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Num dia de primavera o Luís fez anos e ele queria muito ter um cão verdadeiro.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O tio deu-lhe uma mota, o primo deu-lhe um boneco, o Vítor deu-lhe um carro e finalmente a mãe e o pai deram-lhe um cão verdadeiro.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O Luís chamou-lhe Balu.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Ele e o seu cão Balu foram ao parque e brincaram muito.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Depois quando já estava a ficar tarde o Luís e o Balu foram para casa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O Luís tratou bem o seu cão, deu-lhe água, comida e até fez uma cama muito confortável.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Depois no dia seguinte o Luís já não se lembrava que tinha um cão e achou esquisito, alguma coisa a lamber a sua cara.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Acordou e apanhou um grande susto.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Depois quando se lembrou que tinha um cão sorriu para ele.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O Luís gostou muito de ter o cão.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Texto de Daniela Cardoso de 2º ano da turma D &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-3953949834433183714?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/3953949834433183714/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/prenda-do-luis-num-dia-de-primavera-o_02.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/3953949834433183714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/3953949834433183714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/prenda-do-luis-num-dia-de-primavera-o_02.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WoSmo2vG1Og/Typ2TVqY2HI/AAAAAAAAAIY/NLQfc4GTLkY/s72-c/cao.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-6307518560609928941</id><published>2012-02-02T03:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-02T16:11:27.162-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cXU-l4N2nH0/Typ3eQkctyI/AAAAAAAAAIk/raCCAIEPZnc/s1600/cavalo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5704503239745779490" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cXU-l4N2nH0/Typ3eQkctyI/AAAAAAAAAIk/raCCAIEPZnc/s200/cavalo.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 143px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 200px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;lo&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No dia 2 de fevereiro de 2012 fui andar de cavalo, para o Tejo.&lt;br /&gt;Só que o cavalo fugiu-me e depois eu fui à procura dele pela cidade.&lt;br /&gt;Depois encontrei-o na casa do senhor Albino e levei-o para casa e dei-lhe comida e água.&lt;br /&gt;O cavalo ficou feliz para sempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Texto de Guilherme Gomes do 2º ano da turma D&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-6307518560609928941?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/6307518560609928941/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/o-cavalo-no-dia-2-de-fevereiro-de-2012.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/6307518560609928941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/6307518560609928941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/o-cavalo-no-dia-2-de-fevereiro-de-2012.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cXU-l4N2nH0/Typ3eQkctyI/AAAAAAAAAIk/raCCAIEPZnc/s72-c/cavalo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-7615833236691983622</id><published>2012-02-02T03:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-02T16:16:43.937-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wlkA8OXjtWo/Typ8EEyVg5I/AAAAAAAAAJs/Hu4cghuuCd0/s1600/moinho%2Bde%2Bvento.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5704508287464342418" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wlkA8OXjtWo/Typ8EEyVg5I/AAAAAAAAAJs/Hu4cghuuCd0/s200/moinho%2Bde%2Bvento.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 132px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 200px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Os moinhos de vento&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A minha mãe na hora de almoço foi comprar uns medicamentos que faltavam em casa.&amp;nbsp; A doutora da farmácia tinha no balcão uns moinhos de vento, dentro de um vaso a minha mãe perguntou:&lt;br /&gt;-Estes moinhos de vento são para oferecer aos clientes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Texto de Beatriz Dias do 2ª ano da turma D&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-7615833236691983622?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/7615833236691983622/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/os-moinhos-vento-minha-mae-na-hora-de.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/7615833236691983622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/7615833236691983622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/os-moinhos-vento-minha-mae-na-hora-de.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wlkA8OXjtWo/Typ8EEyVg5I/AAAAAAAAAJs/Hu4cghuuCd0/s72-c/moinho%2Bde%2Bvento.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-5401933737241438956</id><published>2012-02-02T03:09:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-02T16:14:21.219-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NayCP4X9egs/Typ8QHS1O6I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/iZTTavjmwrA/s1600/5623512GG.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5704508494295940002" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NayCP4X9egs/Typ8QHS1O6I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/iZTTavjmwrA/s200/5623512GG.jpg" style="display: block; height: 200px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 200px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #000099;"&gt;As cuecas do Ivan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;No dia 24 de janeiro de 2012 o Ivan sujou as cuecas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Mas o Ivan disse:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;- Não gozem comigo!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;O Ivan agora já não é amigo desta turma, mas o professor disse:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;-Ivan é amigo dos outros para que os outros não gozem contigo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Os outros começaram a ser amigos do Ivan e foi uma tarde boa de escola.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Texto de José Miguel do 2º da turma D &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-5401933737241438956?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/5401933737241438956/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/as-cuecas-do-ivan-no-dia-24-de-janeiro.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/5401933737241438956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/5401933737241438956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/as-cuecas-do-ivan-no-dia-24-de-janeiro.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NayCP4X9egs/Typ8QHS1O6I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/iZTTavjmwrA/s72-c/5623512GG.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-7161372357008880231</id><published>2012-02-02T03:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-02T16:22:02.067-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0gT8TLlTweo/Typzk5RXYhI/AAAAAAAAAIM/rwFqxQSkB5A/s1600/masculino%2Be%2Bfeminino"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5704498955704295954" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0gT8TLlTweo/Typzk5RXYhI/AAAAAAAAAIM/rwFqxQSkB5A/s200/masculino%2Be%2Bfeminino" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 200px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 148px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;Os cartazes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No dia 1 fevereiro de 2012, nós, os alunos da turma D, começámos a fazer&amp;nbsp;cartazes de gramática. Fizemos o projeto do cartaz que vamos construir.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Antes de fazermos os cartazes, o professor Américo deu outros cartazes já feitos, para dar uma ideia, mas não eram para copiar. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Depois de fazermos o projeto na folha do dia passámos&amp;nbsp;para fazer na folha quadriculada e, depois, para&amp;nbsp;o computador.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mas os alunos da turma D não passaram para a folha de quadriculados nem para o computador, porque não acabaram, só o José e a Lara é que conseguiram terminar o trabalho no papel.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Assim terminou uma tarde maravilhosa de trabalho com cartazes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Texto de Sara Pequeno do 2º ano da turma D &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-7161372357008880231?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/7161372357008880231/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/os-cartazes-no-dia-1-fevereiro-de-2012.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/7161372357008880231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/7161372357008880231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/os-cartazes-no-dia-1-fevereiro-de-2012.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0gT8TLlTweo/Typzk5RXYhI/AAAAAAAAAIM/rwFqxQSkB5A/s72-c/masculino%2Be%2Bfeminino' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-6869321054342448185</id><published>2012-02-02T03:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-02T16:23:53.281-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UF2Y_642yvQ/Typy5kNdVDI/AAAAAAAAAIA/rzjU5A3ZWc4/s1600/boneco%2Bde%2Bneve.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5704498211316388914" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UF2Y_642yvQ/Typy5kNdVDI/AAAAAAAAAIA/rzjU5A3ZWc4/s200/boneco%2Bde%2Bneve.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 200px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 168px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: #993300; font-size: 180%;"&gt;O meu sonho&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No dia 10 de janeiro eu sonhei que tinha nevado.&lt;br /&gt;Eu e o meu primo tínhamos lutado com bolas de neve e fizemos fortes de gelo.&lt;br /&gt;Nós também fizemos um boneco de neve.&lt;br /&gt;Nós lanchámos panquecas quentes, mas de repente acordei.&lt;br /&gt;Foi pena ser só um sonho, porque eu gostei muito deste sonho!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #663300; font-size: 100%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Texto de Filipe Alexandre da Turma D do 2º ano&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-6869321054342448185?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/6869321054342448185/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/o-meu-sonho-no-dia-10-de-janeiro-eu.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/6869321054342448185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/6869321054342448185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/o-meu-sonho-no-dia-10-de-janeiro-eu.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UF2Y_642yvQ/Typy5kNdVDI/AAAAAAAAAIA/rzjU5A3ZWc4/s72-c/boneco%2Bde%2Bneve.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-9210233223190020645</id><published>2012-02-02T02:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-02T03:20:57.188-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-szbJTA74b4I/TypwZo-iuRI/AAAAAAAAAH0/F5ebzn8DtG0/s1600/gato.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 156px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5704495463816935698" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-szbJTA74b4I/TypwZo-iuRI/AAAAAAAAAH0/F5ebzn8DtG0/s200/gato.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O aniversário da minha gata&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;No dia 1 de fevereiro de 2012 a minha gata fez três anos. A minha mãe comprou um laço para a gata e ela ficou muito gira. A gata chama-se Mimi e ela gosta de brincar comigo. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;No aniversario da Mimi ela brincou comigo e arranhou-me mas não deitou sangue. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Eu desculpei a Mimi por me ter arranhado. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O pelo da Mimi é fofinho e castanho e a minha mãe até já me disse:&lt;br /&gt;- O pelo da Mimi é mesmo fofinho!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Eu gostei do aniversário da Mimi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Texto de Inês Baião do 2º ano da turma D &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-9210233223190020645?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/9210233223190020645/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/o-aniversario-da-minha-gata-no-dia-1-de.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/9210233223190020645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/9210233223190020645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/o-aniversario-da-minha-gata-no-dia-1-de.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-szbJTA74b4I/TypwZo-iuRI/AAAAAAAAAH0/F5ebzn8DtG0/s72-c/gato.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-6986899060592528629</id><published>2012-02-02T02:29:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-02T03:55:15.351-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QAGHgq6Fqvw/Typ5mJiL4RI/AAAAAAAAAIw/gLuTwxquZnY/s1600/ma%25C3%25A7a%2Be%2Bp%25C3%25AAra.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 134px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5704505574319448338" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QAGHgq6Fqvw/Typ5mJiL4RI/AAAAAAAAAIw/gLuTwxquZnY/s200/ma%25C3%25A7a%2Be%2Bp%25C3%25AAra.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;A maçã e a pêra&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Era uma vez uma maçã e uma pêra que se encontraram no jardim.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Depois elas disseram:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Vamos brincar! Anda vamos para os baloiços.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A maçã baloiçou-se baloiçou-se e deixou-se dormir.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A pêra muito atrapalhada perguntou-lhe:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Ó maçã tu não dormiste de noite?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Dormi, dormi, mas tive um pesadelo muito grande. O pessego queria comer-me! –Respondeu ela&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Texto de Beatriz dias do 2 ano da turma D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-6986899060592528629?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/6986899060592528629/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/maca-e-pera-era-uma-vez-uma-maca-e-uma.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/6986899060592528629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/6986899060592528629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/maca-e-pera-era-uma-vez-uma-maca-e-uma.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QAGHgq6Fqvw/Typ5mJiL4RI/AAAAAAAAAIw/gLuTwxquZnY/s72-c/ma%25C3%25A7a%2Be%2Bp%25C3%25AAra.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-5298216137636267975</id><published>2012-02-02T02:28:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-02T02:28:53.462-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;A prenda do Luís&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Num dia de primavera o Luís fez anos e ele queria muito ter um cão verdadeiro.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O tio deu-lhe uma mota, o primo deu-lhe um boneco, o Vítor deu-lhe um carro e finalmente a mãe e o pai deram-lhe um cão verdadeiro.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O Luís chamou-lhe Balu. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ele e o seu cão Balu foram ao parque e brincaram muito.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Depois quando já estava a ficar tarde o Luís e o Balu foram para casa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O Luís tratou bem o seu cão, deu-lhe água, comida e até fez uma cama muito confortável.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Depois no dia seguinte o Luís já não se lembrava que tinha um cão.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E achou esquisito, alguma coisa a lamber a sua cara.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Acordou, e apanhou um grande susto.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Depois quando se lembrou que tinha um cão sorrio para ele.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O Luís gostou muito de ter o cão.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Texto de Daniela Cardoso de 2º ano da turma D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-5298216137636267975?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/5298216137636267975/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/prenda-do-luis-num-dia-de-primavera-o.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/5298216137636267975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/5298216137636267975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/02/prenda-do-luis-num-dia-de-primavera-o.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-9215508560491841121</id><published>2012-01-26T12:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-26T13:03:56.291-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Noite de Cinco Estrelas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No dia 23 de Janeiro de 2012, realizou-se na minha escola uma noite de cinco estrelas.&lt;br /&gt;Nessa noite eu e todos os meus colegas tivemos uma noite especial, na biblioteca da escola, repetimos o teatro que fizemos na festa de Natal e convidamos os pais e familiares para assistirem.&lt;br /&gt;Cantamos canções e arrefinfamos na Bilha, alguns levaram doces e sumos, foi uma festa!&lt;br /&gt;Eu e os meus colegas levamos sacos de cama e almofadas para dormirmos na biblioteca, para mim foi a primeira vez que dormi fora de casa sem os meus pais, eu gostei muito, foi mesmo uma noite de Cinco Estrelas&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Texto de Pedro Margarido do 2º da turma D &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-9215508560491841121?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/9215508560491841121/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/01/noite-de-cinco-estrelas-no-dia-23-de.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/9215508560491841121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/9215508560491841121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/01/noite-de-cinco-estrelas-no-dia-23-de.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-5619981247149209828</id><published>2012-01-09T07:25:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-09T07:29:35.198-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;O Dia de Reis&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;No dia 6 de janeiro de 2012 , às nove horas e meia, da manhã, os alunos do Centro Escolar de Rossio ao Sul do Tejo, foram às Arreciadas de autocarro.&lt;br /&gt;Eles foram às Arreciadas cantar as Janeiras.&lt;br /&gt;Depois às 11h23m voltaram à escola para irem almoçar. Quando tocou para entrar fomos cantar as Janeiras ao Rossio e depois voltámos para a escola onde comemos bolo rei.&lt;br /&gt;Alguns meninos não comeram porque não gostam e foram buscar o lanche à sala de aulas para comerem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Texto de Sara Pequeno e Sofia Gonçalves &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-5619981247149209828?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/5619981247149209828/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/01/o-dia-de-reis-no-dia-6-de-janeiro-de.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/5619981247149209828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/5619981247149209828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/01/o-dia-de-reis-no-dia-6-de-janeiro-de.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-2720429750577341991</id><published>2012-01-09T07:19:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-09T07:20:59.074-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span  &gt;As Janeiras&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Na  sexta-feira dia 6 de Janeiro de  2012 fomos cantar as Janeiras ao  Rossio ao Sul do Tejo e às Arreciadas, pois é uma tradição já muito antiga.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eu e os meus amigos e as restantes turmas estávamos eufóricos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aguardávamos  a chegada do autocarro, para iniciarmos a nossa atividade.  Nós cantámos bem e afinados pois  as pessoas que nos ouviram ficaram com uma cara  alegre.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;De regresso à escola estávamos todos e contentes e felizes pois cumprimos a nossa missão.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Agora só quero desejar um bom ano de 2012, para todos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span &gt;Texto de Guilherme Gomes do 2º ano da turma D.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-2720429750577341991?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/2720429750577341991/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/01/as-janeiras-na-sexta-feira-dia-6-de_09.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/2720429750577341991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/2720429750577341991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/01/as-janeiras-na-sexta-feira-dia-6-de_09.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-2409489158947778854</id><published>2012-01-09T07:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-09T07:31:57.775-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vq2Np6mrmzM/TwsIUMPdMTI/AAAAAAAAAHE/OQtU_3paFvM/s1600/rei%2Bmagos.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 236px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 235px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5695655296716583218" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vq2Np6mrmzM/TwsIUMPdMTI/AAAAAAAAAHE/OQtU_3paFvM/s200/rei%2Bmagos.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;As Janeiras&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;No dia 6 de janeiro de 2012, a minha escola toda e eu fomos cantar as janeiras.&lt;br /&gt;Nós todos fomos cantar as janeiras só não veio o Pedro Branco que é da nossa turma.&lt;br /&gt;Os alunos da escola e eu fomos cantar as janeiras ás Arreciadas.&lt;br /&gt;Nós todos fomos de autocarro foi preciso 3 autocarros.&lt;br /&gt;Quando acabamos de cantar as janeiras nas Arreciadas fomos almoçar.&lt;br /&gt;Eu quando acabei de almoçar fui para a escola.&lt;br /&gt;Quando cheguei à escola brinquei um pecado no parque.&lt;br /&gt;Depois quando a campainha tocou fomos para a sala.&lt;br /&gt;O professor quando chegou disse para irmos cantar as janeiras ao Rossio ao Sul do Tejo .&lt;br /&gt;Nós os alunos da turma D e mais três meninos do 4º ano levamos os Arrefinfa na Bilha.&lt;br /&gt;Alguns meninos foram pedir dinheiro para a escola.&lt;br /&gt;Nós os aluno da turma D levamos as croas e os outros também.&lt;br /&gt;Eu gostei muito deste dia.&lt;br /&gt;　&lt;br /&gt;Texto de Pedro Miguel do 2º ano da turma D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-2409489158947778854?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/2409489158947778854/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/01/as-janeiras-no-dia-6-de-janeiro-de-2012_09.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/2409489158947778854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/2409489158947778854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/01/as-janeiras-no-dia-6-de-janeiro-de-2012_09.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vq2Np6mrmzM/TwsIUMPdMTI/AAAAAAAAAHE/OQtU_3paFvM/s72-c/rei%2Bmagos.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-2909191663878367022</id><published>2012-01-09T07:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-09T07:29:40.382-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DG6p6WqvdKk/TwsH17SgW8I/AAAAAAAAAG4/51hnKXXKbS4/s1600/3_reis_magos_g.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 178px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5695654776769895362" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DG6p6WqvdKk/TwsH17SgW8I/AAAAAAAAAG4/51hnKXXKbS4/s200/3_reis_magos_g.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As Janeiras&lt;br /&gt;No dia 6 de janeiro de 2012, os alunos da escola do Rossio ao Sul do Tejo.&lt;br /&gt;A nossa escola foi cantar as janeiras ás Arreciadas e ao Rossio ao Sul do Tejo.&lt;br /&gt;Nós fomos de autocarro ás Arreciadas e a pé fomos ao Rossio ao Sul do Tejo.&lt;br /&gt;Porque era dia dos reis.&lt;br /&gt;Nós recebemos muitas coisas nas Arreciadas.&lt;br /&gt;Depois quando chegamos à escola fomos comer Bolo Rei.&lt;br /&gt;Os autocarros da cambra municipal do Rossio ao Sul do Tejo.&lt;br /&gt;Nós fomos ao lar e lá deram-nos bolos.&lt;br /&gt;Eu adorei este dia&lt;br /&gt;Texto de Ivan catarino do 2º ano da turma D&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-2909191663878367022?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/2909191663878367022/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/01/as-janeiras-no-dia-6-de-janeiro-de-2012.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/2909191663878367022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/2909191663878367022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/01/as-janeiras-no-dia-6-de-janeiro-de-2012.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DG6p6WqvdKk/TwsH17SgW8I/AAAAAAAAAG4/51hnKXXKbS4/s72-c/3_reis_magos_g.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-2390529830622287247</id><published>2012-01-09T03:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-09T03:11:42.098-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;As Janeiras&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Na sexta-feira dia 6 de Janeiro de 2012 fomos cantar as Janeiras ao Rossio ao Sul do Tejo e às Arreciadas, pois é uma tradição já muito antiga.&lt;br /&gt;Eu e os meus amigos e as restantes turmas estávamos eufóricos.&lt;br /&gt;Aguardávamos a chegada do autocarro, para iniciarmos a nossa atividade. Nós cantámos bem e afinados pois as pessoas que nos ouviram ficaram com uma cara alegre.&lt;br /&gt;De regresso à escola estávamos todos e contentes e felizes pois cumprimos a nossa missão.&lt;br /&gt;Agora só quero desejar um bom ano de 2012, para todos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Texto de Guilherme Gomes do 2 ano da turma D.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-2390529830622287247?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/2390529830622287247/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/01/as-janeiras-na-sexta-feira-dia-6-de.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/2390529830622287247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/2390529830622287247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2012/01/as-janeiras-na-sexta-feira-dia-6-de.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-3466964292904653902</id><published>2011-11-13T07:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-13T07:01:11.557-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;As castanhas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Na sexta-feira era dia de São Martinho.&lt;br /&gt;A escola de Rossio ao Sul do Tejo foi comer castanhas e fazer muitos jogos.&lt;br /&gt;Mas eu gostei mais das corridas.&lt;br /&gt;A Daniela gosto de dançar, corridas e de pintar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Texto de Ivan Catarino do 2º ano da turma D &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-3466964292904653902?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/3466964292904653902/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/11/as-castanhas-na-sexta-feira-era-dia-de.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/3466964292904653902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/3466964292904653902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/11/as-castanhas-na-sexta-feira-era-dia-de.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-8067727545645787969</id><published>2011-11-10T23:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-12T15:36:42.355-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"&gt;O 2º ano ajuda o ambiente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os alunos da&amp;nbsp;turma D gostam de ajudar o Ambiente.&lt;br /&gt;Os alunos gostam de reciclar o lixo. O nosso planeta está a ficar doente. Temos que o ajudar a ficar bom depressa, pois precisamos muito dele e ele de nós e ainda não há médico para o tratar.&lt;br /&gt;As "formigas" gostam de reciclar e por isso fazem assim:.&lt;br /&gt;Papel no papelão...&lt;br /&gt;O vidro no vidrão...&lt;br /&gt;As embalagens no embalão...&lt;br /&gt;E as pilhas no pilhão!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Texto de Ivan Catarino da Turma D do 2º ano&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-8067727545645787969?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/8067727545645787969/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/11/o-1-ano-anda-reciclar-turma-d-gosta-de.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/8067727545645787969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/8067727545645787969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/11/o-1-ano-anda-reciclar-turma-d-gosta-de.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-5438116785066491670</id><published>2011-11-10T02:25:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-12T15:37:34.977-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"&gt;O meu pai&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;No dia 6 de outubro, de 2011, o meu pai foi de carro à loja de relógios da minha mãe, porque o meu primo gosta dos relógios dela.&lt;br /&gt;O meu pai comprou um relógio e eu dei-o ao meu primo.&lt;br /&gt;O meu primo gostou muito do relógio e levou-o para o trabalho.&lt;br /&gt;Depois o meu primo emprestou o relógio ao meu pai.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-5438116785066491670?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/5438116785066491670/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/11/o-meu-pai-no-dia-6-de-outubro-de-2011-o.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/5438116785066491670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/5438116785066491670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/11/o-meu-pai-no-dia-6-de-outubro-de-2011-o.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-7748823391991750913</id><published>2011-11-10T02:04:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-12T15:41:13.256-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue; font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A Maria faz anos&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;A Maria faz 9 anos e já é muito crescida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ela hoje vem com ums totós lindos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eu vou à festa de anos dela, a Abrantes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ela tem uma casa muito grande e bonita.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A festa é às 3 horas da tarde.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O bolo dela é da Hello kitty,&amp;nbsp; a forma é retângulo e tem palha de Abrantes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Deve ser bom!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O bolo dela é de compra na pastelaria.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;E de presentes vou-lhe dar umas Barbeis.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eu dei-lhe as Barbies&amp;nbsp;à noite.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eu gostei de ir aos anos da Maria.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-7748823391991750913?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/7748823391991750913/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/11/maria-faz-anos-maria-faz-9-anos-ja-e.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/7748823391991750913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/7748823391991750913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/11/maria-faz-anos-maria-faz-9-anos-ja-e.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-1448071934479152785</id><published>2011-10-20T07:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-01T03:02:08.454-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WNAGHUCEego/TqA1UrezIaI/AAAAAAAAAGA/ICpffKsXt0w/s1600/gatos.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665586960617644450" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WNAGHUCEego/TqA1UrezIaI/AAAAAAAAAGA/ICpffKsXt0w/s320/gatos.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 205px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 180%;"&gt;O meu gato&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%;"&gt;Eu comprei um gato numa loja de animais e levei-o para casa. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%;"&gt;Depois levei-o para casa da minha avó. A seguir fomos passear ao rio Tejo e fomos a casa da Inês, da Daniela, do Filipe e a casa do Tiago.&lt;br /&gt;Eu dou ração ao meu gato. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Texto de Joel do 2º ano da Turma D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-1448071934479152785?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/1448071934479152785/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/10/o-meu-gato-eu-comprei-um-gato-numa-loja.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/1448071934479152785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/1448071934479152785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/10/o-meu-gato-eu-comprei-um-gato-numa-loja.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WNAGHUCEego/TqA1UrezIaI/AAAAAAAAAGA/ICpffKsXt0w/s72-c/gatos.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-15817547501807383</id><published>2011-10-20T04:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-20T04:11:20.870-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Escuteiros na Escola de Rossio ao Sul do Tejo - Abrantes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span lang="PT"&gt; &lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Os escuteiros&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Nos dias 15 e 16 de outubro, de 2011, eu, a Daniela, a Sara, a Sofia e o Joel fomos acampar na escola de Rossio ao Sul do Tejo. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Nós cantámos, jogámos, comemos e à noite vimos um filme do Mogli e também fomos aos baloiços, às escuras. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Quando fomos dormir não se via nada e dormimos com muito calor. Também foi muito complicado porque andamos para um lado e para o outro, até&amp;nbsp;arranjarmos maneira de não haver brigas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;No outro dia eu acordei bem disposta, vesti-me, calcei-me, comi e brinquei, mas também tive saudades da minha mana Margarida, da minha mãe, do meu pai, da minha avó e também do Zé.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Eu gostei muito deste dia nos escuteiros, porque estive com os meus amigos.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;Texto de Inês Baião do 2º ano da turma D &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-15817547501807383?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/15817547501807383/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/10/escuteiros-na-escola-de-rossio-ao-sul.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/15817547501807383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/15817547501807383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/10/escuteiros-na-escola-de-rossio-ao-sul.html' title='Escuteiros na Escola de Rossio ao Sul do Tejo - Abrantes'/><author><name>A Turma das "Super Formigas"</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15517324900871799811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-5005167803020504271</id><published>2011-09-29T13:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-20T04:18:08.619-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_CSrYZUy-tI/ToTW9gnD5-I/AAAAAAAAAF4/l0GoCoo2zhk/s1600/imagesCA3G3ST2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657883384098318306" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_CSrYZUy-tI/ToTW9gnD5-I/AAAAAAAAAF4/l0GoCoo2zhk/s320/imagesCA3G3ST2.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 144px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 144px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 130%;"&gt;A visita da Sofia a Paris&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;No dia 25 de Junho a Sofia foi a Paris e viu lá um menino e perguntou-lhe queres ser meu amigo e ele disse que sim.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;No outro dia a Sofia perguntou-lhe como te chamava o menino e ele disse que o nome dele era João. De manhã sedo o João disse: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;-Olá Sofia!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;-Olá João! -&amp;nbsp;respondeu a Sofia e perguntou-lhe:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;-Queres ir&amp;nbsp;à loja comigo?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;-Sim. - respondeu&amp;nbsp;o João e compraram uma camisola.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Texto de Sara Pequeno do 2º ano da Turma D&amp;nbsp;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-5005167803020504271?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/5005167803020504271/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/09/visita-paris-da-sofia-no-dia-25-de.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/5005167803020504271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/5005167803020504271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/09/visita-paris-da-sofia-no-dia-25-de.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_CSrYZUy-tI/ToTW9gnD5-I/AAAAAAAAAF4/l0GoCoo2zhk/s72-c/imagesCA3G3ST2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-7009532520860243605</id><published>2011-09-05T11:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-05T11:57:18.298-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A visita a Campo Maior</title><content type='html'>Nas minhas férias eu fui a muitos lugares: á praia, ao campo, á piscina e ao cinema.&lt;br /&gt;Mas gostei muito de ir ás festas de Campo Maior.&lt;br /&gt;Eu em Campo Maior vi as ruas enfeitadas&amp;nbsp;com flores feitas de papel e eram de muitas cores.&lt;br /&gt;Havia uma rua que tinha animais feitos de papel.&lt;br /&gt;Os animais eram muito bonitos e também eram muito bem feitos, que eté pareciam ser&amp;nbsp;de verdade.&lt;br /&gt;Eu estou a gostar muito das minhas férias, mas já tenho saudades da minha escola, dos colegas e do professor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Texto de Inês Baião&amp;nbsp;1ºano da turma D&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-7009532520860243605?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/7009532520860243605/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/09/visita-campo-maior.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/7009532520860243605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/7009532520860243605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/09/visita-campo-maior.html' title='A visita a Campo Maior'/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-8085753800661832830</id><published>2011-09-03T10:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-05T06:38:13.043-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='escuteiros'/><title type='text'>Vou para os escuteiros.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img height="158" src="http://t1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQyX79rCo1szrOCzilarM4wR1kW1DkxlVMEOhxO-ccAW0EK-IX3_Q" width="320" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: orange; font-size: x-large;"&gt;Os Escuteiros&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No dia 2 de Setembro fui a uma reunião aos escuteiros.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A minha mãe vai ser "chefe" e eu também vou ser&amp;nbsp;escuteira.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Eu e a Sara vamos para os Lobitos onde já está o nosso colega Joel, da turma D.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Nós pensamos que&amp;nbsp;mais alguns dos nossos colegas, também&amp;nbsp;se vão inscrever este ano.&lt;br /&gt;Vai ser muito&amp;nbsp;divertido estarmos juntos, também nos acampamentos e nas outras atividades fora da escola.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Texto de Daniela Cardoso do 1º ano da turma D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-8085753800661832830?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/8085753800661832830/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/09/vou-para-para-escuteros.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/8085753800661832830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/8085753800661832830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/09/vou-para-para-escuteros.html' title='Vou para os escuteiros.'/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-3222884018250134051</id><published>2011-08-26T14:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-27T08:27:17.360-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='A praia dos surfistas'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Mx24e5U6SsI/TlkJKBA8PyI/AAAAAAAAAbA/qzC7Uih_so0/s1600/baleal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" qaa="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Mx24e5U6SsI/TlkJKBA8PyI/AAAAAAAAAbA/qzC7Uih_so0/s1600/baleal.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue; font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A praia dos surfistas&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Nas minhas férias eu fui à praia do Baleal, em Peniche. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Perto desta praia&amp;nbsp;mora um dos meus tios. Na praia do Baleal há&amp;nbsp;muitos surfistas, porque&amp;nbsp;há sempre muitas ondas. Os surfistas&amp;nbsp;têm pranchas e vestem fatos de borracha, para não sentirem frio dentro de água. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Eu e o meu pai fomos nadar e&amp;nbsp;a água estava muito fria.&amp;nbsp;Também fiz buracos na areia e apanhei pedrinhas de cores diferentes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;A minha mãe não foi porque ela não sabe nadar. Ela&amp;nbsp;tem medo da água! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Eu gostei de dormir em casa o meu tio e de ir à praia. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Texto e Filipe Alexandre, do 1º ano&amp;nbsp;da turma D &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-3222884018250134051?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/3222884018250134051/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/08/praia-dos-surfistas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/3222884018250134051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/3222884018250134051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/08/praia-dos-surfistas.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Mx24e5U6SsI/TlkJKBA8PyI/AAAAAAAAAbA/qzC7Uih_so0/s72-c/baleal.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-6090588101980630466</id><published>2011-08-20T15:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-23T04:56:07.298-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.ikea.com/pt/pt/images/products/sandig-conj-p-construcoes-na-areia--pcs__0087010_PE215949_S4.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" src="http://www.ikea.com/pt/pt/images/products/sandig-conj-p-construcoes-na-areia--pcs__0087010_PE215949_S4.JPG" style="cursor: hand; float: left; height: 299px; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 244px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #009900; font-size: 180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Um&amp;nbsp;dia na praia!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;No dia 1 de Agosto a minha avó levou-me para Armação de Pêra. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;O meu primo Mário também foi para&amp;nbsp;lá. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Na praia vi gaivotas a pescarem, guarda sóis coloridos, apanhei conchas e pedras. O meu&amp;nbsp;pai fez uma muralha e fizemos animais na areia com as minhas formas. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Numa manhã, o mar estava bravo e tinha muitas ondas que derrubavam as pessoas, por isso as crianças não podiam nadar. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;À&amp;nbsp;noite houve festa e fogo de artifício e&amp;nbsp;eu fui passear com a minha mãe e fiz um tereré. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Texo de Sofia Gonçalves do 1º Ano da Turma D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-6090588101980630466?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/6090588101980630466/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/08/o-dia-na-praia-no-dia-1-de-agosto-minha.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/6090588101980630466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/6090588101980630466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/08/o-dia-na-praia-no-dia-1-de-agosto-minha.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-715197512077957880</id><published>2011-08-20T14:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-23T04:56:44.674-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kdeDKUQPDl0/TG-XDxFQeGI/AAAAAAAAXj0/fXhWTfP3a4g/s400/Evora-photo3788-5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kdeDKUQPDl0/TG-XDxFQeGI/AAAAAAAAXj0/fXhWTfP3a4g/s200/Evora-photo3788-5.jpg" style="float: left; height: 292px; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 235px;" width="160" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #009900; font-size: 180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;As minhas férias &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;No mês de Agosto,&amp;nbsp;eu&amp;nbsp;fui com os meus pais para a praia de Armação de Pêra. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Saímos do Rossio de carro e passamos por Évora onde vimos igrejas, casas antigas, o castelo com uma muralha e até um aqueduto. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Depois passamos por Beja. Pelo caminho, o meu pai ensinou que as oliveiras dão azeitonas, os sobreiros dão cortiça e as azinheiras dão bolotas. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;No final da viagem chegámos à praia. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Texto de Sofia Gonçalves do 1º Ano da Turma D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-715197512077957880?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/715197512077957880/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/08/as-ferias-da-sofia-no-mes-de-agosto.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/715197512077957880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/715197512077957880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/08/as-ferias-da-sofia-no-mes-de-agosto.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kdeDKUQPDl0/TG-XDxFQeGI/AAAAAAAAXj0/fXhWTfP3a4g/s72-c/Evora-photo3788-5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-3359554734837328715</id><published>2011-08-08T17:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-10T15:07:37.761-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cmz16vNIkX0/TjFn-Y37eoI/AAAAAAAAAFo/a3INEmHgpM8/s1600/images%255B2%255D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634398930343787138" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cmz16vNIkX0/TjFn-Y37eoI/AAAAAAAAAFo/a3INEmHgpM8/s320/images%255B2%255D.jpg" style="cursor: hand; float: left; height: 189px; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 267px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc33cc; font-size: large;"&gt;O passeio de Joana e dos seus pais&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;No dia 24 de Abril a Joana e os seus pais foram dar um passeio a Lisboa.&lt;/div&gt;Em Lisboa a Joana disse aos pais que nunca tinha andado de metro.&lt;br /&gt;A Joana ficou muito contente e espantada, porque foi&amp;nbsp;andar de metro e adorou.&lt;br /&gt;Ao regressar para casa, a&amp;nbsp;Joana adormeceu no carro.&lt;br /&gt;No dia seguinte na escola a professora Carla mandou a Joana fazer um texto sobre o fim-de-semana e ela, contente fez um sobre a sua viagem de metro e leu o texto aos seus colegas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A professora Carla e os colegas da Joana adoraram o seu texto.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Texto de Cátia Alves do 1º ano da&amp;nbsp;turma D&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-3359554734837328715?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/3359554734837328715/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/08/o-passeio-de-joana-e-os-seus-pais-no.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/3359554734837328715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/3359554734837328715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/08/o-passeio-de-joana-e-os-seus-pais-no.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cmz16vNIkX0/TjFn-Y37eoI/AAAAAAAAAFo/a3INEmHgpM8/s72-c/images%255B2%255D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-7414717590248279280</id><published>2011-08-08T17:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-08T17:35:42.773-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O Burrito vermelho</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iPfzDWTbr8A/TjBX5ztjC1I/AAAAAAAAAFg/9vxVymuu2i4/s1600/imagesCACTZPC8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634099784485899090" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iPfzDWTbr8A/TjBX5ztjC1I/AAAAAAAAAFg/9vxVymuu2i4/s320/imagesCACTZPC8.jpg" style="cursor: hand; float: left; height: 242px; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 208px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O burrito vermelho&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Era uma vez um burrito vermelho que se chamava Chico.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;O burrito Chico vivia na quinta do senhor Alfredo com os outros animais.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;O senhor Alfredo na sua quinta tinha um campo onde o burrito Chico e os seus amigos animais brincavam.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;O burrito andava triste e o senhor Alfredo e os seus amigos animais não sabiam porque andava triste.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Certo dia o burrito fugiu da quinta do senhor Alfredo e os animais ficaram tristes por ele ter fugido.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;O burrito fugiu para uma floresta perto da quinta, porque se sentia posto de parte pelos seus amigos animais da quinta, por ser um burrito vermelho.&lt;/div&gt;Assim o burrito Chico ficou na floresta durante uns dias, o senhor Alfredo foi à procura dele, encontrou-o e levou-o para a quinta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Quando lá chegaram o senhor Alfredo explicou aos outros animais o porquê de ele se ter ido embora da quinta e assim os seus amigos nunca mais o puseram de parte.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Texto da Cátia Alves, do 1º ano, da turma D&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-7414717590248279280?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/7414717590248279280/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/08/o-burrito-vermelho.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/7414717590248279280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/7414717590248279280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/08/o-burrito-vermelho.html' title='O Burrito vermelho'/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iPfzDWTbr8A/TjBX5ztjC1I/AAAAAAAAAFg/9vxVymuu2i4/s72-c/imagesCACTZPC8.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-1557740010385859933</id><published>2011-08-01T09:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-05T11:49:25.097-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='férias'/><title type='text'>Um Dia Especial</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TnL35L9NDFg/TjbT1kPPCAI/AAAAAAAAAFw/iM1MT_FnZOg/s1600/gravura-de-bicicleta.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635924900914857986" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TnL35L9NDFg/TjbT1kPPCAI/AAAAAAAAAFw/iM1MT_FnZOg/s320/gravura-de-bicicleta.jpg" style="float: left; height: 294px; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 296px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 24px; line-height: 27px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;shapetype coordsize="21600,21600" filled="f" id="_x0000_t75" path="m@4@5l@4@11@9@11@9@5xe" preferrelative="t" spt="75" stroked="f"&gt;&lt;stroke joinstyle="miter"&gt;&lt;formulas&gt;&lt;f eqn="if lineDrawn pixelLineWidth 0"&gt;&lt;f eqn="sum @0 1 0"&gt;&lt;f eqn="sum 0 0 @1"&gt;&lt;f eqn="prod @2 1 2"&gt;&lt;f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelWidth"&gt;&lt;f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelHeight"&gt;&lt;f eqn="sum @0 0 1"&gt;&lt;f eqn="prod @6 1 2"&gt;&lt;f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelWidth"&gt;&lt;f eqn="sum @8 21600 0"&gt;&lt;f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelHeight"&gt;&lt;f eqn="sum @10 21600 0"&gt;&lt;/f&gt;&lt;/f&gt;&lt;/f&gt;&lt;/f&gt;&lt;/f&gt;&lt;/f&gt;&lt;/f&gt;&lt;/f&gt;&lt;/f&gt;&lt;/f&gt;&lt;/f&gt;&lt;/f&gt;&lt;/formulas&gt;&lt;path connecttype="rect" extrusionok="f" gradientshapeok="t"&gt;&lt;lock aspectratio="t" ext="edit"&gt;&lt;/lock&gt;&lt;/path&gt;&lt;/stroke&gt;&lt;/shapetype&gt;&lt;shape alt="http://biologyataglance.wikispaces.com/file/view/bicicleta.jpg/142595171/bicicleta.jpg" id="Imagem_x0020_1" spid="_x0000_s1026" style="height: 220.5pt; left: 0px; margin-left: 5.7pt; margin-top: 14.6pt; mso-position-horizontal-relative: text; mso-position-horizontal: absolute; mso-position-vertical-relative: text; mso-position-vertical: absolute; mso-wrap-distance-bottom: 0; mso-wrap-distance-left: 9pt; mso-wrap-distance-right: 9pt; mso-wrap-distance-top: 0; mso-wrap-style: square; position: absolute; text-align: left; visibility: visible; width: 222pt; z-index: -1;" type="#_x0000_t75" wrapcoords="-146 0 -146 21453 21600 21453 21600 0 -146 0"&gt;&lt;imagedata src="file:///C:\Users\Daniela\AppData\Local\Temp\msohtmlclip1\01\clip_image001.jpg" title="bicicleta"&gt;&lt;wrap type="tight"&gt;&lt;/wrap&gt;&lt;/imagedata&gt;&lt;/shape&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Hoje é um dia muito especial, porque recebi uma bicicleta da minha avó Matilde.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;É que a bicicleta que eu tinha já era muito pequena e com rodinhas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;E eu já sei andar sem rodas de apoio.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;Agora a minha bicicleta nova anda muito rápido, eu adoro-a.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"&gt;A minha bicicleta nova é de cor roxa e branca e tem um cesto&amp;nbsp;à frente, para por lá o que eu quiser; posso ir fazer um piquenique com as minhas bonecas e levá-las todas lá dentro.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Hoje também fui à praia e diverti-me muito.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Por isso hoje foi um dia muito especial.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Texto da Daniela Cardoso, do 1º ano da T&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 36px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;urma D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Vladimir Script';"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-1557740010385859933?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/1557740010385859933/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/08/um-dia-especial.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/1557740010385859933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/1557740010385859933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/08/um-dia-especial.html' title='Um Dia Especial'/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TnL35L9NDFg/TjbT1kPPCAI/AAAAAAAAAFw/iM1MT_FnZOg/s72-c/gravura-de-bicicleta.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-1007461730109791635</id><published>2011-07-18T13:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-22T13:38:05.447-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nAfegcQ0mrE/TiSfsbdM1qI/AAAAAAAAAFY/kkxR54e4rbk/s1600/estadio-luz.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630801019753256610" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nAfegcQ0mrE/TiSfsbdM1qI/AAAAAAAAAFY/kkxR54e4rbk/s320/estadio-luz.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 207px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3333ff; font-size: 180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eu estou em Lisboa&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Eu vim passar uns dias a Lisboa,&amp;nbsp;em casa do meu tio. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Nós costumamos ir a uma praia sem ondas, que se chama Figueirinha. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Um dia destes, também irei passar na ponte 25 de Abril e na Ponte Vasco da Gama. Também visitarei&amp;nbsp;o estádio do Benfica, para pedir um autógrafo ao Salvio, que é um jogador do Benfica, se ele lá estiver.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Na quinta-feira&amp;nbsp;iremos para a casa do meu outro tio, que mora na Marinha Grande e onde estão os meus primos. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Texto de Pedro Miguel do 1º ano da Turma D &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-1007461730109791635?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/1007461730109791635/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/07/eu-estou-em-lisboa-eu-vim-passar-uns.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/1007461730109791635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/1007461730109791635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/07/eu-estou-em-lisboa-eu-vim-passar-uns.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nAfegcQ0mrE/TiSfsbdM1qI/AAAAAAAAAFY/kkxR54e4rbk/s72-c/estadio-luz.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-5483226508575210226</id><published>2011-07-13T12:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-14T03:56:22.471-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LMrEgz3oHjk/TLj4ah5WlkI/AAAAAAAAAeg/49Q9ys3vBj0/s1600/desenho-de-crianaa-regando-um-jardim-desenhos-ambientais-para-imprimir.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: right; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="155" id="il_fi" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LMrEgz3oHjk/TLj4ah5WlkI/AAAAAAAAAeg/49Q9ys3vBj0/s200/desenho-de-crianaa-regando-um-jardim-desenhos-ambientais-para-imprimir.jpg" style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A tarde dos três amigos&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Numa tarde de verão, a Laura foi com o&amp;nbsp; Martin dar um passeio ao jardim da avó do Bruno, que é o primo da Laura.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;A Laura, o Martin e o Bruno estavam sentados num banco, que a avó da Laura e do Bruno tinha em frente&amp;nbsp;à laranjeira.&lt;/div&gt;O Bruno&amp;nbsp;perguntou ao Martin:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;-Vamos jogar futebol?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;O Martin respondeu:&lt;/div&gt;-Não vamos jogar à&amp;nbsp;apanhada, para a Laura também jogar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Assim a Laura o Bruno e o Martin&amp;nbsp;passaram a tarde a jogar&amp;nbsp;à apanhada, no jardim da avó.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; O texto da Cátia Alves do 1º ano da turma D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-5483226508575210226?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/5483226508575210226/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/07/tarde-dos-tres-amigos-numa-tarde-de.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/5483226508575210226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/5483226508575210226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/07/tarde-dos-tres-amigos-numa-tarde-de.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_LMrEgz3oHjk/TLj4ah5WlkI/AAAAAAAAAeg/49Q9ys3vBj0/s72-c/desenho-de-crianaa-regando-um-jardim-desenhos-ambientais-para-imprimir.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-5092271976500032029</id><published>2011-07-10T14:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-14T04:05:05.341-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fDCJXCYui5w/ThoYqezt8CI/AAAAAAAAAEo/yxgL1huxaPo/s1600/cinema-Carros-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627837802456412194" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fDCJXCYui5w/ThoYqezt8CI/AAAAAAAAAEo/yxgL1huxaPo/s320/cinema-Carros-2.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 187px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 328px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eu no cinema&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: small;"&gt;Hoje eu fui com o meu pai e com o meu tio ao cinema de Torres Novas ver o filme "Carros 2". No cinema comi pipocas com o meu pai e também bebi sumo de laranja. E na 2ª parte o meu tio foi buscar um banco para eu ficar mais alto, porque eu não via muito bem. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: small;"&gt;Quando o filme acabou fui jogar a um jogo de motas no último andar no salão de jogos. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: small;"&gt;Eu gostei muito deste dia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Texto de Pedro Miguel do 1º da Turma D &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-5092271976500032029?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/5092271976500032029/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/07/eu-no-cinema-hoje-eu-fui-com-o-meu-pai.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/5092271976500032029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/5092271976500032029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/07/eu-no-cinema-hoje-eu-fui-com-o-meu-pai.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fDCJXCYui5w/ThoYqezt8CI/AAAAAAAAAEo/yxgL1huxaPo/s72-c/cinema-Carros-2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-812820726244079656</id><published>2011-07-07T08:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-07T12:59:36.163-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A menina dos Totós.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c3gtq0RvWqc/ThYPl2rd6fI/AAAAAAAAAZA/10JW56x3ksQ/s1600/menina.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" m$="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c3gtq0RvWqc/ThYPl2rd6fI/AAAAAAAAAZA/10JW56x3ksQ/s200/menina.jpg" width="142" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue; font-size: large;"&gt;A menina dos totós&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;"&gt;Era uma vez uma menina que tinha um cabelo muito grande e a mãe gostava de lhe fazer grandes totós.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;"&gt;Um dia a menina encontrou um cão na rua e pediu à mãe se o podia levar para casa. A mãe respondeu que o cão tinha dono, mas deixou-o levar na mesma, porque o cão estava com muita fome.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: justify;"&gt;- Mas quando o dono aparecer tens que o devolver!&amp;nbsp;-avisou&amp;nbsp;a mãe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A menina queria fazer uns totós com o pêlo do cão,&amp;nbsp;iguais aos dela, mas a mãe disse-lhe que ela não ia conseguir, porque era diferente. O&amp;nbsp;pêlo do cão não ia crescer muito e era aos caracóis. A menina ficou muito triste e&amp;nbsp;disse&amp;nbsp;à mãe que já não queria ter o cabelo grande. Ela&amp;nbsp;queria o cabelo curto e aos caracóis como o seu animal de estimação.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Texto de Cátia Alves do 1º ano da Turma D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-812820726244079656?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/812820726244079656/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/07/menina-dos-totos.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/812820726244079656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/812820726244079656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/07/menina-dos-totos.html' title='A menina dos Totós.'/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c3gtq0RvWqc/ThYPl2rd6fI/AAAAAAAAAZA/10JW56x3ksQ/s72-c/menina.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-3260255766255682471</id><published>2011-07-07T07:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-07T08:04:40.853-07:00</updated><title type='text'>As férias</title><content type='html'>&lt;div id="recover"&gt;&lt;span id="spellcheckMessage"&gt;Olá amigos vai tudo bem !&lt;br /&gt;Como é que vão essas férias, vão bem ou vão mal.&lt;br /&gt;Eu todos os dias de manhã  faço uma caminhada, logo ás 8  horas estou pronta, depois fico na casa da Olga, e à tarde fico com a minha mãe e a minha irmã no escritório.&lt;br /&gt;E vocês onde estão.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beijinhos para todos e para o professor                                                                                                                 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beatriz Dias&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-3260255766255682471?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/3260255766255682471/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/07/as-ferias.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/3260255766255682471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/3260255766255682471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/07/as-ferias.html' title='As férias'/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-4952046859906326153</id><published>2011-07-01T04:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-14T04:08:31.689-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='férias'/><title type='text'>O tanque</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m_zPlnKyfvc/Tg2397krKZI/AAAAAAAAAEg/fbhkU2PLrkY/s1600/imagesCA6G4KNV.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624353784247036306" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m_zPlnKyfvc/Tg2397krKZI/AAAAAAAAAEg/fbhkU2PLrkY/s320/imagesCA6G4KNV.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 212px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 237px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Era uma vez um menino que se chamava Francisco e tinha um irmão.&lt;br /&gt;O seu irmão chamava-se Carlos.&lt;br /&gt;Os dois irmãos brincavam no tanque com uma bola.&lt;br /&gt;E depois de tanta brincadeira no tanque os dois irmãos foram lanchar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-4952046859906326153?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/4952046859906326153/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/07/o-tanque.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/4952046859906326153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/4952046859906326153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/07/o-tanque.html' title='O tanque'/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m_zPlnKyfvc/Tg2397krKZI/AAAAAAAAAEg/fbhkU2PLrkY/s72-c/imagesCA6G4KNV.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-6070371797239762282</id><published>2011-06-14T11:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-03T00:17:58.157-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Zv1RONdEhnc/TfeqpnywTJI/AAAAAAAAAEI/xkO6Lq2ygMg/s1600/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618146692201204882" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Zv1RONdEhnc/TfeqpnywTJI/AAAAAAAAAEI/xkO6Lq2ygMg/s320/images.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 202px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 264px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O piquenique &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; mso-hyphenate: auto; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;No dia 10 de Junho de 2011, eu, a minha irmã e o meu pai fomos fazer um piquenique.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; mso-hyphenate: auto; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;O piquenique foi no Parque de São Lourenço. Eu levei uma bola e a minha irmã uma bicicleta.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; mso-hyphenate: auto; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-language: PT;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;O meu pai jogou à bola comigo e a seguir eu e a minha irmã apanhámos pinhas. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-language: PT;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;Também brincámos com um cão castanho muito pequeno.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; line-height: 150%; mso-fareast-language: PT;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;O lanche estava muito saboroso.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; margin: 0cm -21.4pt 0pt -1cm; text-align: center; text-indent: 1cm;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Texto de Pedro Miguel do 1º da turma D &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-6070371797239762282?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/6070371797239762282/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/06/o-piquenique-no-dia-10-de-junho-2011.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/6070371797239762282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/6070371797239762282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/06/o-piquenique-no-dia-10-de-junho-2011.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Zv1RONdEhnc/TfeqpnywTJI/AAAAAAAAAEI/xkO6Lq2ygMg/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-3335878204699841988</id><published>2011-06-14T04:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-30T14:42:13.453-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-N5opz_i2e1s/TfdNEDrxX7I/AAAAAAAAAEA/g2O9dq0BQBs/s1600/bateria.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618043792271695794" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-N5opz_i2e1s/TfdNEDrxX7I/AAAAAAAAAEA/g2O9dq0BQBs/s320/bateria.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 311px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 305px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3333ff; font-size: 180%;"&gt;A bateria do Filipe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3333ff; font-size: 180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;No dia 4 de Junho, o Filipe foi com o pai&amp;nbsp;à loja dos instrumentos e comprou uma bateria. Depois ele tocou... tocou... tocou até que se cansou. A mãe chamou o Filipe e ele não ouviu. Quando o pai chegou disse: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;-Vais de castigo!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;Texto de Pedro Miguel do 1º ano da turma D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-3335878204699841988?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/3335878204699841988/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/06/bateria-do-filipe-no-dia-4-de-junho-o.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/3335878204699841988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/3335878204699841988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/06/bateria-do-filipe-no-dia-4-de-junho-o.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-N5opz_i2e1s/TfdNEDrxX7I/AAAAAAAAAEA/g2O9dq0BQBs/s72-c/bateria.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-9015887670605215518</id><published>2011-06-14T04:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-14T07:01:37.106-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BcEupvegfJQ/TfdGt0e9FpI/AAAAAAAAAD4/vHe9sZWFxfE/s1600/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 316px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 205px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618036813164517010" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BcEupvegfJQ/TfdGt0e9FpI/AAAAAAAAAD4/vHe9sZWFxfE/s320/untitled.bmp" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;O Pedro em Espanha&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;O Pedro foi de comboio a Espanha. Ele lá viu um avião da tropa. Depois ele foi almoçar com o amigo Filipe que não sabia que ele estava lá. Eles almoçaram arroz e carne. Eles gostaram muito. Depois foram ás montanhas brancas. Quando foram para casa estiveram a sonhar. E ficaram amigos. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;texto de Pedro Miguel da turma D do 1º&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-9015887670605215518?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/9015887670605215518/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/06/o-pedro-em-espanha-o-pedro-foi-de.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/9015887670605215518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/9015887670605215518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/06/o-pedro-em-espanha-o-pedro-foi-de.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BcEupvegfJQ/TfdGt0e9FpI/AAAAAAAAAD4/vHe9sZWFxfE/s72-c/untitled.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-695055886552101305</id><published>2011-06-13T11:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T11:57:38.199-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7ckF_7E1fV8/TfZdkAN11YI/AAAAAAAAADw/X7MRdt_22oA/s1600/crocodile11.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 324px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 191px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617780458306000258" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7ckF_7E1fV8/TfZdkAN11YI/AAAAAAAAADw/X7MRdt_22oA/s320/crocodile11.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#009900;"&gt;A visita do Pedro e do Guilherme ao zoo &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No dia 8 de Junho de 2011 o Pedro e o Guilherme foram ao zoo e viram a girafa a tartaruga o elefante e os crocodilos. Eles gostaram dos crocodilos, e depois foram beber um sumo e um gelado de morango. Quando começou a ficar de noite eles voltaram para casa porque tinham uma viagem muito longa. Eles regressaram de carro, mas fizeram uma paragem para jantar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Texto de Pedro Miguel da turma D do 1º ano&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-695055886552101305?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/695055886552101305/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/06/visita-do-pedro-e-do-guilherme-ao-zoo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/695055886552101305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/695055886552101305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/06/visita-do-pedro-e-do-guilherme-ao-zoo.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7ckF_7E1fV8/TfZdkAN11YI/AAAAAAAAADw/X7MRdt_22oA/s72-c/crocodile11.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-6440217157434006133</id><published>2011-06-13T07:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T07:29:43.995-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-r8CkPm9yZP0/TfYeqgrKx-I/AAAAAAAAADo/lH59ufzaU2I/s1600/platanos8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 288px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 197px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617711300865607650" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-r8CkPm9yZP0/TfYeqgrKx-I/AAAAAAAAADo/lH59ufzaU2I/s320/platanos8.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A Turma D na Quinta dos Plátanos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No dia 2 de Junho, os alunos da "Turma D" foram visitar a Quinta dos Plátanos pela segunda vez. Nesta quinta há muitos animais domésticos, como cães, patos, burros, porcos, cisnes e animais selvagens, como o falcão, emas, lamas, avestruzes, cangurus, coelhos da Austrália e gazelas.&lt;br /&gt;Na quinta dos Plátanos há um museu muito bonito, que tem coleções de borboletas e de outros insectos, de rochas e tem uma zebra e um elefante de plástico.&lt;br /&gt;O José e o João gostaram muito da zebra, que estava no museu da Quinta dos Plátanos.&lt;br /&gt;A Daniela, a Sara, a Inês, a Beatriz, o Joel, o Gonçalo e o Pedro gostaram do elefante, que estava no museu.&lt;br /&gt;Quando se foram embora foram para a escola.&lt;br /&gt;-Foi muito divertido! - disse a Cátia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Texto de Sara Maria e Sofia Lopes do 1º ano da turma D &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-6440217157434006133?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/6440217157434006133/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/06/turma-d-na-quinta-dos-platanos-no-dia-2.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/6440217157434006133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/6440217157434006133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/06/turma-d-na-quinta-dos-platanos-no-dia-2.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-r8CkPm9yZP0/TfYeqgrKx-I/AAAAAAAAADo/lH59ufzaU2I/s72-c/platanos8.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-6912175395015033643</id><published>2011-06-13T06:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T06:50:26.822-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xDln-0I3jS4/TfYVaR6isMI/AAAAAAAAADg/MBepuJrgXt8/s1600/ca%25C3%25A7a%2Bao%2Bpato.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617701126421000386" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xDln-0I3jS4/TfYVaR6isMI/AAAAAAAAADg/MBepuJrgXt8/s320/ca%25C3%25A7a%2Bao%2Bpato.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A caça ao pato&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;No dia 11 de junho, de 2011, nós, a Inês, o Pedro e o José fomos ver a caça ao pato, na fonte dos touros, junto ao rio Tejo, em Rossio ao Sul do Tejo.&lt;br /&gt;Na fonte dos touros ouvimos música e vimos patos. Os patos eram castanhos e bonitos.&lt;br /&gt;Depois, a Inês e o Pedro foram comer um gelado e o José bebeu um café e a seguir foram jogar à bola e a Inês foi andar de baloiço. Depois a Inês e o José foram com o pai do Pedro para a casa dele. Na casa do Pedro foram brincar ao salto em comprimento.&lt;br /&gt;Depois eles foram lanchar um pão de milho e chocolate quente.&lt;br /&gt;A Inês e o José gostaram muito deste dia.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Texto de Pedro Miguel e de Inês Baião trabalhado&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-6912175395015033643?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/6912175395015033643/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/06/caca-ao-pato-no-dia-11-de-junho-de-2011.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/6912175395015033643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/6912175395015033643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/06/caca-ao-pato-no-dia-11-de-junho-de-2011.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xDln-0I3jS4/TfYVaR6isMI/AAAAAAAAADg/MBepuJrgXt8/s72-c/ca%25C3%25A7a%2Bao%2Bpato.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-5569839445999298834</id><published>2011-06-10T09:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T07:03:05.469-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;O trabalho da Beatriz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;A Beatriz precisava de um trabalho mas não conseguia arranjar trabalho até que um senhor viu a Beatriz muito triste e perguntou-lhe se queria ir trabalhar com ele e ela disse que sim e foi trabalhar.&lt;br /&gt;No dia seguinte acordou e comeu arroz doce e foi trabalhar para o seu trabalho. À noite chegou do trabalho e foi dormir porque era de noite e estava cansada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Texto de Sara Pequeno do 1º ano da turma D &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-5569839445999298834?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/5569839445999298834/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/06/o-trabalho-da-beatriz-beatriz-precisava.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/5569839445999298834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/5569839445999298834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/06/o-trabalho-da-beatriz-beatriz-precisava.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-4485315897209662914</id><published>2011-06-03T13:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-08T14:30:33.877-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GNipeqOjAHk/Te_pcRfMa7I/AAAAAAAAAVQ/URIvz2AtJmQ/s1600/regional+e+dia+crian%25C3%25A7a+079.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320px" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GNipeqOjAHk/Te_pcRfMa7I/AAAAAAAAAVQ/URIvz2AtJmQ/s320/regional+e+dia+crian%25C3%25A7a+079.jpg" t8="true" width="240px" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 180%;"&gt;A Turma D na Quinta dos Plátanos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Dia 2 de Junho a "Turma D" foi visitar a Quinta dos Plátanos pela segunda vez.&lt;br /&gt;Nesta quinta há muitos animais domésticos e selvagens.&lt;br /&gt;Na quinta dos Plátanos há um museu muito bonito com uma zebra&amp;nbsp;e um elefante de plástico.&lt;br /&gt;O José e o João gostaram muito da zebra, que estava no museu da Quinta dos Plátanos.&lt;br /&gt;A Daniela, a Sara, a Inês, a Beatriz, o Joel, o Gonçalo e o Pedro gostaram do elefante, que estava no museu.&lt;br /&gt;Quando se foram embora foram para a escola.&lt;br /&gt;-Foi muito divertido! - disse a Cátia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;em&gt;Texto de Sara Maria Pequeno do 1º ano da turma D&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-4485315897209662914?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/4485315897209662914/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/06/turma-d-na-quinta-dia-2-de-junho-turma.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/4485315897209662914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/4485315897209662914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/06/turma-d-na-quinta-dia-2-de-junho-turma.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GNipeqOjAHk/Te_pcRfMa7I/AAAAAAAAAVQ/URIvz2AtJmQ/s72-c/regional+e+dia+crian%25C3%25A7a+079.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-6930451971251733895</id><published>2011-05-27T05:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-08T14:33:01.849-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cr48Qyr4nHw/Td-hIEF63OI/AAAAAAAAADU/X4ZTI6fTT20/s1600/imagesCAI44H9N.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611380820636523746" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cr48Qyr4nHw/Td-hIEF63OI/AAAAAAAAADU/X4ZTI6fTT20/s320/imagesCAI44H9N.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 177px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 97px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #33cc00; font-size: 180%;"&gt;O chimpanzé da Marta &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: #33cc00; font-size: 180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;A Marta tem um chimpazé bonito.&lt;br /&gt;O nome do chimpanzé&amp;nbsp;é Chico.&lt;br /&gt;-Olá Chico! Vais passear?&lt;br /&gt;-Sim - respondeu ele.&lt;br /&gt;-A Isabel e a Marta ficaram em casa! -&amp;nbsp;disse o Chico - A fazer&amp;nbsp;não sei o quê!&lt;br /&gt;-Olá Marta e Chico! -&amp;nbsp;disse&amp;nbsp;a Isa.&lt;br /&gt;-Olá Isa! Vais fazer o quê?&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;-Vou a casa da minha avó.&lt;br /&gt;O chimpanzé foi procurar mais amigos.&lt;br /&gt;-Olá Chico! -&amp;nbsp;disse o macaco.&lt;br /&gt;-Olá macaco! -&amp;nbsp;disse o chimpanzé.&lt;br /&gt;Ele levou o amigo macaco para a sua casa para almoçar e&amp;nbsp;o comer era arroz com carne.&lt;br /&gt;O chimpanzé resolveu que o macaco ficasse em sua casa.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-6930451971251733895?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/6930451971251733895/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/o-chimpanze-da-marta-marta-tem-um.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/6930451971251733895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/6930451971251733895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/o-chimpanze-da-marta-marta-tem-um.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cr48Qyr4nHw/Td-hIEF63OI/AAAAAAAAADU/X4ZTI6fTT20/s72-c/imagesCAI44H9N.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-649530385613978115</id><published>2011-05-25T07:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-29T11:57:29.196-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-46mKXSNeFXc/Td0S0x3FpTI/AAAAAAAAADM/7BNsag7y9PI/s1600/menino.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5610661408720397618" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-46mKXSNeFXc/Td0S0x3FpTI/AAAAAAAAADM/7BNsag7y9PI/s320/menino.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 159px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 73px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red; font-size: 180%;"&gt;O elefante do Ivan &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;O elefante do Ivan veio da Índia que&amp;nbsp;é muito seu amigo.&lt;br /&gt;Era&amp;nbsp;hora de almoço e o comer era bifes com arroz e a fruta era manga.&lt;br /&gt;-Olá avó! Onde vais?&lt;br /&gt;-Vou comprar roupa.&lt;br /&gt;-Qual peça de roupa?&lt;br /&gt;-Uma camisola para o Verão.&amp;nbsp;A camisola é de alças.&lt;br /&gt;-Posso ir contigo?&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;-Podes.&lt;br /&gt;-Então vamos.&lt;br /&gt;-Está bem. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;Texto de Sara Pequeno do 1º ano da turma D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-649530385613978115?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/649530385613978115/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/o-elefante-do-ivan-o-elefante-do-ivan_25.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/649530385613978115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/649530385613978115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/o-elefante-do-ivan-o-elefante-do-ivan_25.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-46mKXSNeFXc/Td0S0x3FpTI/AAAAAAAAADM/7BNsag7y9PI/s72-c/menino.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-7620742402548079992</id><published>2011-05-21T05:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-29T12:00:06.615-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_fNgFVHduTo/Tdev_JAyS9I/AAAAAAAAAC8/neRPUxdoasg/s1600/imagesCAWFL52W.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609145360199076818" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_fNgFVHduTo/Tdev_JAyS9I/AAAAAAAAAC8/neRPUxdoasg/s320/imagesCAWFL52W.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 148px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 102px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red; font-size: 180%;"&gt;A avó &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A avó foi&amp;nbsp;à loja comprar uma blusa.&lt;br /&gt;Ela tem uma gata muito gira e bonita.&lt;br /&gt;O nome da avó&amp;nbsp;é dona Céu.&lt;br /&gt;-Olá dona Céu!&lt;br /&gt;-Olá! Queres ir&amp;nbsp;à minha casa comer?&lt;br /&gt;-Sim. -&amp;nbsp;disse a Maria.&lt;br /&gt;-Vamos almoçar.&lt;br /&gt;O comer era sopa e bifes com arroz. &lt;/div&gt;O nome da gata é Fofa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Texto de Sara Pequeno do 1º ano da turma D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-7620742402548079992?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/7620742402548079992/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/avo-avo-foi-loja-comprar-uma-blusa.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/7620742402548079992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/7620742402548079992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/avo-avo-foi-loja-comprar-uma-blusa.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_fNgFVHduTo/Tdev_JAyS9I/AAAAAAAAAC8/neRPUxdoasg/s72-c/imagesCAWFL52W.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-4451621683966745262</id><published>2011-05-19T13:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-08T14:35:51.463-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-J0kZ5IcBScc/TdV_R8Z95oI/AAAAAAAAACs/AbCfrwugWJs/s1600/Camisola%252520Azul%252520Kipsta.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608528857209366146" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-J0kZ5IcBScc/TdV_R8Z95oI/AAAAAAAAACs/AbCfrwugWJs/s320/Camisola%252520Azul%252520Kipsta.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 142px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 122px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3333ff; font-size: 180%;"&gt;A camisola do Pedro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O Pedro foi à loja comprar uma peça de roupa que era uma camisola.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;É hora de almoço, o Pedro foi almoçar com o Joel. O almoço era sopa, bife com batatas e a fruta era banana, eles acharam o almoço muito bom.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;O Pedro foi mostrar a sua nova camisola á sua mãe. Ele tem uma camisola azul.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Texto de Sara Pequeno do 1º ano da turma D&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-4451621683966745262?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/4451621683966745262/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/camisola-do-pedro-o-pedro-foi-loja.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/4451621683966745262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/4451621683966745262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/camisola-do-pedro-o-pedro-foi-loja.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-J0kZ5IcBScc/TdV_R8Z95oI/AAAAAAAAACs/AbCfrwugWJs/s72-c/Camisola%252520Azul%252520Kipsta.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-3445521336194268681</id><published>2011-05-19T06:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-19T16:45:00.128-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5a4OVZ9vykg/TdWrXwIcpRI/AAAAAAAAAC0/Inoo9zLNH3o/s1600/afonso%2Be%2Btiago.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608577335505495314" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5a4OVZ9vykg/TdWrXwIcpRI/AAAAAAAAAC0/Inoo9zLNH3o/s320/afonso%2Be%2Btiago.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A Freguesia do Rossio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Eu gosto muito do Rossio.&lt;br /&gt;Eu ando na escola do Rossio pois gosto muito.&lt;br /&gt;No Verão vou muitas vezes brincar para o pé do Tejo.&lt;br /&gt;No Rossio também há um parque de campismo é pena ser um pouco pequeno e não muito habitado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Texto de Cátia Sofia do 1º ano da turma D &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-3445521336194268681?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/3445521336194268681/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/freguesia-do-rossio-eu-gosto-muito-do_19.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/3445521336194268681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/3445521336194268681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/freguesia-do-rossio-eu-gosto-muito-do_19.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5a4OVZ9vykg/TdWrXwIcpRI/AAAAAAAAAC0/Inoo9zLNH3o/s72-c/afonso%2Be%2Btiago.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-3447773157700560720</id><published>2011-05-19T05:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-19T06:12:37.647-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ARE4fmvRJz4/TdUUXaTDkiI/AAAAAAAAACk/CGEzkh7V8UQ/s1600/Rossio%2Bao%2Bsul%2Bdo%2BTejo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608411303388615202" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ARE4fmvRJz4/TdUUXaTDkiI/AAAAAAAAACk/CGEzkh7V8UQ/s320/Rossio%2Bao%2Bsul%2Bdo%2BTejo.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 187px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 536px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;A Freguesia do Rossio&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu gosto muito do Rossio.&lt;br /&gt;Eu ando na Escola do Rossio&amp;nbsp;e gosto muito.&lt;br /&gt;No verão vou muitas vezes brincar para o pé do Rio Tejo.&lt;br /&gt;A Freguesia do Rossio é das mais bonitas que conheço.&lt;br /&gt;Eu gosto muito do Rossio.&lt;br /&gt;Eu ando na escola do Rossio pois gosto muito.&lt;br /&gt;No Verão, muitas vezes vou brincar para o pé do Rio Tejo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Texto de Cátia&amp;nbsp;Sofia, do 1º ano, da&amp;nbsp;turma&amp;nbsp;D&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-3447773157700560720?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/3447773157700560720/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/freguesia-do-rossio-eu-gosto-muito-do.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/3447773157700560720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/3447773157700560720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/freguesia-do-rossio-eu-gosto-muito-do.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ARE4fmvRJz4/TdUUXaTDkiI/AAAAAAAAACk/CGEzkh7V8UQ/s72-c/Rossio%2Bao%2Bsul%2Bdo%2BTejo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-179409146407884038</id><published>2011-05-19T05:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-19T16:34:27.338-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Zqst7il_E4E/TdUQgzCgemI/AAAAAAAAACM/finB5sQr2Xg/s1600/coreto-do-rossio-ao-sul-do-tejo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 318px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 220px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608407066602404450" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Zqst7il_E4E/TdUQgzCgemI/AAAAAAAAACM/finB5sQr2Xg/s320/coreto-do-rossio-ao-sul-do-tejo.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#33ccff;"&gt;O Rossio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A avó foi ao Rossio. O Rossio é bonito. No Rossio há um campo de futebol. No Rossio há muitas flores coloridas e à muitas frutas boas. Eu gosto muito do Rossio. Tem duas pontes uma dos carros outra dos comboios. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A Turma D é a melhor.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-179409146407884038?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/179409146407884038/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/o-rossio-avo-foi-ao-rossio_19.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/179409146407884038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/179409146407884038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/o-rossio-avo-foi-ao-rossio_19.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Zqst7il_E4E/TdUQgzCgemI/AAAAAAAAACM/finB5sQr2Xg/s72-c/coreto-do-rossio-ao-sul-do-tejo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-4495792866297596019</id><published>2011-05-19T05:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-19T16:36:39.731-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F68d4O0DxtA/TdUTJ9deYjI/AAAAAAAAACc/IDqELPdW_oU/s1600/Rossio.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 197px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 156px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608409972797760050" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F68d4O0DxtA/TdUTJ9deYjI/AAAAAAAAACc/IDqELPdW_oU/s320/Rossio.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Aniversário da freguesia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fomos ao lar de idosos levar flores aos velhinhos.&lt;br /&gt;Fomos de carro e voltámos a pé.&lt;br /&gt;Foi muito divertido.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Texto de Sara Pequeno&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;, do 1º ano da turma D&lt;img class="gl_italic" border="0" alt="Itálico" src="http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-4495792866297596019?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/4495792866297596019/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/aniversario-da-freguesia-fomos-ao-lar.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/4495792866297596019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/4495792866297596019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/aniversario-da-freguesia-fomos-ao-lar.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F68d4O0DxtA/TdUTJ9deYjI/AAAAAAAAACc/IDqELPdW_oU/s72-c/Rossio.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-3008288470154984913</id><published>2011-05-19T03:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-19T16:38:19.097-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Daniela e o cavalo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SHdboqN01N4/TdUS29_cj-I/AAAAAAAAACU/H0zA3pU5TyM/s1600/cavalo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 270px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 187px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608409646522732514" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SHdboqN01N4/TdUS29_cj-I/AAAAAAAAACU/H0zA3pU5TyM/s320/cavalo.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;A Daniela e o cavalo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A Daniela tem um cavalo bebe.&lt;br /&gt;O nome do cavalo è Totó.&lt;br /&gt;O cavalo da Daniela è castanho.&lt;br /&gt;A Daniela deu banho ao cavalo Totó.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Texto de Inês Beatriz 1ºano turma D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-3008288470154984913?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/3008288470154984913/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/daniela-e-o-cavalo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/3008288470154984913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/3008288470154984913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/daniela-e-o-cavalo.html' title='A Daniela e o cavalo'/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SHdboqN01N4/TdUS29_cj-I/AAAAAAAAACU/H0zA3pU5TyM/s72-c/cavalo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-5881822848514912326</id><published>2011-05-18T12:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-18T13:17:38.686-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-H8RPnUNeKFk/TdQpCWWbaEI/AAAAAAAAACE/j-T4xwLHAU4/s1600/1168878527_parque_urbano_da_rabada.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 319px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 206px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608152556319238210" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-H8RPnUNeKFk/TdQpCWWbaEI/AAAAAAAAACE/j-T4xwLHAU4/s320/1168878527_parque_urbano_da_rabada.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;O gelado da Rita&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;A tia deu o gelado ao Filipe e à Rita. O gelado è bom disse a rir a Rita e o Filipe. O Filipe e a Rita vão ao parque do café do Afonso que estava a fazer os cafés deliciosos. O tio estava a tocar guitarra. O pai foi com a Rita ao Zoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Texto de Pedro Miguel da Turma D &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-5881822848514912326?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/5881822848514912326/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/o-gelado-da-rita-tia-deu-o-gelado-ao.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/5881822848514912326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/5881822848514912326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/o-gelado-da-rita-tia-deu-o-gelado-ao.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-H8RPnUNeKFk/TdQpCWWbaEI/AAAAAAAAACE/j-T4xwLHAU4/s72-c/1168878527_parque_urbano_da_rabada.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-6491637074058757325</id><published>2011-05-18T08:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-18T08:22:48.035-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2Pz9jID54Bk/TdPj96hTQvI/AAAAAAAAAB8/Shj3ChtTRPA/s1600/animais.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 238px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608076613826855666" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2Pz9jID54Bk/TdPj96hTQvI/AAAAAAAAAB8/Shj3ChtTRPA/s320/animais.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O tigre &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Eu conheço um tigre muito bonito. A dona do tigre é chinesa. No sábado o tigre fugiu para a selva. Na selva o tigre viu a zebra a girafa e o macaco. A zebra estava na água, a girafa estava a comer folhas e o macaco a trepar nas árvores.&lt;br /&gt;O tigre foi dormir. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Texto de Pedro Miguel &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;do 1º ano da turma D &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-6491637074058757325?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/6491637074058757325/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/o-tigre-eu-conheco-um-tigre-muito.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/6491637074058757325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/6491637074058757325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/o-tigre-eu-conheco-um-tigre-muito.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2Pz9jID54Bk/TdPj96hTQvI/AAAAAAAAAB8/Shj3ChtTRPA/s72-c/animais.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-2168021556488701697</id><published>2011-05-16T11:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-18T06:16:32.898-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tTjmqZ_nSbA/TdGFtexWraI/AAAAAAAAAB0/3xo02-1F9GE/s1600/26.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607410027453656482" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tTjmqZ_nSbA/TdGFtexWraI/AAAAAAAAAB0/3xo02-1F9GE/s320/26.jpg" style="display: block; height: 118px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center; width: 148px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #33ff33;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #33cc00;"&gt;Eu gosto da primavera&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #99ff99;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Eu gosto &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;das quatro estações do ano, mas a que eu gosto mais é da primavera.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Na primavera há muitas flores bonitas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Na primavera há muitas frutas muito boas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Passados cinco anos havia uma menina muito bonita.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Olá amiga! -&amp;nbsp;disse ela&amp;nbsp;à Olga. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;-A amiga quer ir brincar comigo? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;-Sim pode ser... Então vamos lá, está bem?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;Texto de Sara Maria Piedade Dos Santos Pequeno do 1º ano da turma D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-2168021556488701697?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/2168021556488701697/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/eu-gosto-da-primavera-eu-gosto-das.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/2168021556488701697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/2168021556488701697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/eu-gosto-da-primavera-eu-gosto-das.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tTjmqZ_nSbA/TdGFtexWraI/AAAAAAAAAB0/3xo02-1F9GE/s72-c/26.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-1022082063256835604</id><published>2011-05-11T07:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-11T07:13:33.772-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O meu gato</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JuGER8InOQ4/TcqSDRu1NzI/AAAAAAAAABs/TuzeOafcxek/s1600/gifs-animados-gato-jugando.gif"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5605453271213094706" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JuGER8InOQ4/TcqSDRu1NzI/AAAAAAAAABs/TuzeOafcxek/s320/gifs-animados-gato-jugando.gif" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 139px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 128px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"&gt;O meu gato&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O meu gato morreu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;O meu gato era o marreco.&lt;br /&gt;O meu gato era muito amigo.&lt;br /&gt;O meu gato miava pouco.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Texto&amp;nbsp;de José&amp;nbsp;Miguel&amp;nbsp;do 1º ano da torema D&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-1022082063256835604?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/1022082063256835604/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/o-meu-gato.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/1022082063256835604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/1022082063256835604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/o-meu-gato.html' title='O meu gato'/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JuGER8InOQ4/TcqSDRu1NzI/AAAAAAAAABs/TuzeOafcxek/s72-c/gifs-animados-gato-jugando.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-6656213835403601956</id><published>2011-05-11T07:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-11T07:06:04.090-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JGj7TUR1KcM/TcqPDCF1LwI/AAAAAAAAABk/c9WJTfT6Vxc/s1600/cavalo"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5605449968479710978" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JGj7TUR1KcM/TcqPDCF1LwI/AAAAAAAAABk/c9WJTfT6Vxc/s320/cavalo" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc33cc; font-size: x-large;"&gt;O meu cavalo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;O meu cavalo&amp;nbsp;come a couve e bebe o leite.&lt;br /&gt;Ele é muito fofinho e gosta muito de min.&lt;br /&gt;Ele é branco e tem o gancho na cabeça.&lt;br /&gt;O meu cavalo vai ao treino.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Texto da Beatriz Dias, do 1º ano da turma D &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-6656213835403601956?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/6656213835403601956/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/o-meu-cavalo-o-meu-cavalo-couve-e-bebe.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/6656213835403601956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/6656213835403601956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/o-meu-cavalo-o-meu-cavalo-couve-e-bebe.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JGj7TUR1KcM/TcqPDCF1LwI/AAAAAAAAABk/c9WJTfT6Vxc/s72-c/cavalo' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-1498617604051103850</id><published>2011-05-11T05:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-11T06:03:25.086-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-l8UMig1StjI/TcqI-vRwcNI/AAAAAAAAABE/zGJWsLr01ic/s1600/caracol.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 250px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5605443297640214738" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-l8UMig1StjI/TcqI-vRwcNI/AAAAAAAAABE/zGJWsLr01ic/s320/caracol.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;O caracol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;O caracol fugiu para cima da gaiola.&lt;br /&gt;O soldado deu o caracol ao Joel.&lt;br /&gt;O caracol foi até ao farol.&lt;br /&gt;O caracol comeu a alface.&lt;br /&gt;O caracol é bonito. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Texto de Inês Beatriz, do 1º ano da Turma D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-1498617604051103850?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/1498617604051103850/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/o-caracol-o-caracol-fugiu-para-cima-da.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/1498617604051103850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/1498617604051103850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/o-caracol-o-caracol-fugiu-para-cima-da.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-l8UMig1StjI/TcqI-vRwcNI/AAAAAAAAABE/zGJWsLr01ic/s72-c/caracol.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-3319851469246335793</id><published>2011-05-11T05:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-19T16:40:40.520-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-v7Heof9ghnQ/TcqMVI5m9iI/AAAAAAAAABM/W_8ryc_t5u0/s1600/gato.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 213px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 122px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5605446981010257442" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-v7Heof9ghnQ/TcqMVI5m9iI/AAAAAAAAABM/W_8ryc_t5u0/s320/gato.jpeg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O gato e o rato&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O tio deu o rato ao filho totó.&lt;br /&gt;O gato comeu o rato.&lt;br /&gt;O filho disse ao tio:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;-És bonito!&lt;br /&gt;O pai disse ao filho:&lt;br /&gt;-Filho mete o gato e o rato na rua. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Texto de Ivan Catarino do 1º ano da Turma D &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-3319851469246335793?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/3319851469246335793/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/o-gato-e-o-rato-o-tio-deu-o-rato-ao.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/3319851469246335793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/3319851469246335793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/o-gato-e-o-rato-o-tio-deu-o-rato-ao.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-v7Heof9ghnQ/TcqMVI5m9iI/AAAAAAAAABM/W_8ryc_t5u0/s72-c/gato.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-8623289480257195724</id><published>2011-05-11T03:55:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-11T04:25:03.757-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O meu cão</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 259px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 195px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5605415494313365698" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YmZk2bhPAmw/TcpvsX0E0MI/AAAAAAAAAA8/AJkqpPprCPY/s320/c%25C3%25A3o%2Bc%25C3%25A3o.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O meu cão&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;O meu cão é muito bonito.&lt;br /&gt;O nome do meu cão é Tico.&lt;br /&gt;O Tico é bonito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Texto de Joel Centeio, do 1º ano da Turma D&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-8623289480257195724?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/8623289480257195724/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/o-meu-cao_11.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/8623289480257195724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/8623289480257195724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/o-meu-cao_11.html' title='O meu cão'/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YmZk2bhPAmw/TcpvsX0E0MI/AAAAAAAAAA8/AJkqpPprCPY/s72-c/c%25C3%25A3o%2Bc%25C3%25A3o.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-2630087444565717487</id><published>2011-05-11T03:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-11T07:08:47.448-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-p3P02v6pg7Q/TcqNd-LWqPI/AAAAAAAAABc/bBfTFxuqOHE/s1600/aguia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5605448232262346994" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-p3P02v6pg7Q/TcqNd-LWqPI/AAAAAAAAABc/bBfTFxuqOHE/s320/aguia.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 310px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;A águia do João&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A águia é muito bonita.&lt;br /&gt;A mãe viu a águia do João na rua.&lt;br /&gt;O João foi com a águia para a rua.&lt;br /&gt;A águia é muito feroz.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Texto de Filipe Fontnha do 1º ano D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-2630087444565717487?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/2630087444565717487/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/aguia-do-joao-aguia-e-muito-bonita.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/2630087444565717487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/2630087444565717487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/aguia-do-joao-aguia-e-muito-bonita.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-p3P02v6pg7Q/TcqNd-LWqPI/AAAAAAAAABc/bBfTFxuqOHE/s72-c/aguia.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-4688726098334226684</id><published>2011-05-11T03:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-11T03:46:32.938-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ODuLVc4z1vo/TcpoWqAWFMI/AAAAAAAAAAs/s9EtKLc_9uo/s1600/20975_ori_lionel_messi.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 217px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5605407424658150594" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ODuLVc4z1vo/TcpoWqAWFMI/AAAAAAAAAAs/s9EtKLc_9uo/s320/20975_ori_lionel_messi.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#3366ff;"&gt;A equipa do Pedro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O Pedro foi ao futebol e decidiu que ia fazer uma equipa e foi à procura de jogadores. Primeiro encontrou o Filipe e perguntou:&lt;br /&gt;-Queres vir para a minha equipa?&lt;br /&gt;O Filipe respondeu que sim e lá foram eles à procura de mais jogadores.&lt;br /&gt;Depois encontraram o Gui que passeava à beira do rio e ele também disse que sim. Os três foram à procura de mais dois jogadores. Eles encontraram o João e ele também respondeu que sim.&lt;br /&gt;Como o Joel respondeu que não o Pedro disse:&lt;br /&gt;-Ainda há um jogador perfeito, o José.&lt;br /&gt;O José entrou para a equipa e o Pedro ficou com a sua equipa completa. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Texto de Pedro Miguel, do 1º ano da Turma D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-4688726098334226684?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/4688726098334226684/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/equipa-do-pedro-o-pedro-foi-ao-futebol.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/4688726098334226684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/4688726098334226684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/equipa-do-pedro-o-pedro-foi-ao-futebol.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ODuLVc4z1vo/TcpoWqAWFMI/AAAAAAAAAAs/s9EtKLc_9uo/s72-c/20975_ori_lionel_messi.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7125522600420447096.post-7145224074280891760</id><published>2011-05-09T11:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-11T07:10:48.142-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rzIe_l3rBjA/Tcl1ceLC4dI/AAAAAAAAAAU/0q4REM1bd9A/s1600/galo%2Bque%2Bdan%25C3%25A7a.gif"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5605140343235469778" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rzIe_l3rBjA/Tcl1ceLC4dI/AAAAAAAAAAU/0q4REM1bd9A/s320/galo%2Bque%2Bdan%25C3%25A7a.gif" style="cursor: hand; float: left; height: 163px; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 171px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;A abelha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%;"&gt;A abelha picou o gafanhoto na asa e a galinha na pata.&lt;br /&gt;A abelha não é amiga do gafanhoto nem da galinha.&lt;br /&gt;A abelha tomou banho e ficou molhada.&lt;br /&gt;A abelha é amiga da gaivota.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;A abelha e a gaivota vão à ilha.&lt;br /&gt;A ilha é bonita e a abelha disse:&lt;br /&gt;-A ilha é muito bonita!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Na ilha a abelha comeu o queque e bebeu o leite.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;A gaivota bebeu metade do leite e comeu metade do queque.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;Texto de Sara Pequeno, do 1º ano da Turma D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7125522600420447096-7145224074280891760?l=blogdostextos.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/feeds/7145224074280891760/comments/default' title='Enviar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/abelha-abelha-picou-o-gafanhoto-na-asa.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/7145224074280891760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7125522600420447096/posts/default/7145224074280891760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://blogdostextos.blogspot.com/2011/05/abelha-abelha-picou-o-gafanhoto-na-asa.html' title=''/><author><name>formiguinha</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09273260316508761967</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rzIe_l3rBjA/Tcl1ceLC4dI/AAAAAAAAAAU/0q4REM1bd9A/s72-c/galo%2Bque%2Bdan%25C3%25A7a.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
