I love all animals but as far as house pets are concerned, domestic cats or housecats are my favorite. Growing up we always had a cat or two in our house. I would dress them up and play with them for hours like they were my very own toys. I particularly loved the hats mom made for the cats, obviously way more then the cats did. Just imagine the expression on a cats face with a hat on his head. Can you see it, are you smiling? As an adult, I’m still an avid cat owner/lover but I don’t dress them up nearly as much as I did as a kid, especially with the cats I have now. I will admit I have a Santa outfit and a leather bomber jacket for my black cat. I bought these outfits in the dog section because he is really big but unfortunately he doesn’t like playing dress up all that much. In my travels over the years, I have seen many, many homeless cats and it breaks my heart everytime I see them. I've yet to understand how we have allowed this to happen for so long considering cats have been domesticated animals for thousands of years. People have been breeding cats since the late 19th century and there are hundreds of breeds of domestic cats available for adoption or for purchase but there are only three types of domestic cats: indoor, indoor-outdoor and outdoor.
My cats are the indoor type. The only time they go outside is if they’re out on the secure second story deck. While out on the deck, there is no possible way for them to get to ground level and out on Main Street. They have many of the typical items any of your outdoor cats would love. There are a half dozen or so planters which I grow edible grass and cap nip solely for their consumption every year. We have an array of hanging bird feeders so the cats are able to do their daily bird watching and drooling (that’s their favorite part, they told me so) there’s plenty of obstacles for them to climb upon and numerous scratching posts for them as well. They lead a very happy life being indoor kitties; they don’t have to hunt for their food, they’re lax on their grooming habits considering they’re brushed daily and there’s also an abundance of toys for their play time. Most days, every day, they are treated to yummy kitty snacks because they know how to manipulate us into giving them out. They have indoor plumbing which they don’t have to do a thing with because every day their excretions magically disappear out of the box! Indoor cats do however; tend to be more overweight then your outdoor cats for they do not get nearly the exercise as the outdoor type but typically they do live longer. Some indoor cats have lived into their 20’s but more commonly will live into their mid teens.
Growing up, we had indoor-outdoor cats. They got their meals in the house, but they had to hunt for their snacks, and these weren’t the kind of snacks given out freely by the human hand, like the kind I use to persuade the cats out of my office chair. Most of the time, indoor-outdoor cats use outdoor plumbing which I’m pretty sure they don’t mind for they can go anywhere anytime they want. In the winter months, especially in the colder climates, many indoor-outdoor cats do have the luxury of using a kitty litter box inside. Our indoor-outdoor cats could come and go as they pleased. First thing in the morning they would be at the door to be let out and they would stay out all day long until dark. It was pretty easy to get them back in the house at night, too. All I had to do was make kissing noises at the back door and they’d coming running in. Our indoor-outdoor cats did all their own grooming and the only time I’d step in is if they had a bad mat or something stuck to their fur. Indoor-outdoor cats are usually thinner and are in better physical shape due to all the running, tree climbing, snack hunting and exercise they get while outside. They don’t sleep all day like lazy indoor cats. One problem you may find with indoor-outdoor cats is they get ear mites and/or fleas. These medical issues can be easily remedied by a visit to the veterinarian. The biggest problem however, is your indoor-outdoor cats don’t live as long as your indoor type due to getting hit by cars or caught by something bigger than them and killed and eaten while they were outside.
Cats that live exclusively outside 24/7 lead completely different lives than the indoor/indoor-outdoor types. They have to do everything for themselves; most importantly, survive. They do not get fed by people, but hunt for everything they consume no matter what the temperature or climate is outside. Outdoor cats are still domesticated animals, but at one point in life were made homeless by people and became stray cats. These types of cats have been on their own for so long, they’ve become fearful of people and usually will not go anywhere near them. Outdoor cats are usually very thin and malnourished, due to lack of food especially during the cold season and they don’t get any medical attention. Their coats are dirty, matted and flea infested and the life span of the average outdoor cat is very short. These cats are not neutered or spayed and you will see litters or feral colonies of them around dumpsters out behind your local restaurant. These types of domesticated cats are sometimes referred to as feral or farm cats and try to live as close by to food as possible. Life expectancy for a feral cat, if it makes it past kitten hood, is a couple of years if it’s lucky.
If you lined up the three types of domestic cats you could probably tell the difference visually as to which cat belonged to which type. The indoor cat would most likely be the fattest and have a nice coat of fur. Its eyes and ears would be clean and clear and its overall appearance would be one of a very healthy looking pet. The indoor-outdoor cat would look a bit thinner than the indoor cat but in good physical shape. It may not have the best looking coat especially if it’s a long haired cat and didn’t get brushed every day. The outdoor cat would look very thin and its coat will probably be in the roughest shape from fighting and trying to stay alive. Because outdoor cats are susceptible to disease more than likely it would probably not only look sick, it would be sick.
Please neuter and spay all pets and donate to your local shelters and humane society.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Classification essay
Bon Appetit
Some people eat to live while others live to eat. It’s a scientific fact of life, we must eat food to survive, period. So, it’s fair to say some people just go through the motions and ingest food out of necessity. This group I would classify as those who eat to live. Others consume food because they enjoy the texture, smell and taste of food. This group I would classify as those who live to eat. These people not only experiment consuming different types of foods, they experiment with different methods of cooking their food such as baking, sautéing or poaching.
For some, an item wrapped in plastic filled with preservatives that has been sitting on a shelf in a box at a local grocery store for who knows how long is considered food. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve purchased this type of food before, as I’m sure many of us have. But take a freshly baked batch of cookies, brownies or bars out of your oven and wrap these up for a future snack…….First off, you know what’s in the ingredients, second, it’s way more cost efficient to bake your own, and third you have the “free” delicious aroma of fresh baked goods penetrating your home.
We’ve all heard or read about eating fried food is bad for your health. I wholeheartedly agree that eating fried food at every meal would be bad for anyone’s health, however, olive oil is apparently the “good “ oil to consume. The extra virgin variety contains no refined oil which makes it easier for the body to digest, it’s high in antioxidants and it’s ideal for trying to lower bad cholesterol. With this being said, how yummy would a boneless chicken breast or a filet of fish taste sautéed in oil olive verses the deep fried version of the same from a fast food restaurant. In all seriousness, if you plan ahead, the time to make these things at home is not as time consuming as you’d think, plus you are benefiting from eating more healthy by sautéing your food.
I know for some of you Mainers, poaching means to hunt illegally, but the poaching I’m referring to is the process of simmering food in liquid. Contrary to belief, eggs aren’t the only food to poach. You can poach practically any food, the trick is doing it right. This means maintaining the temperature below the boiling point, do not move your food around in the pan and most importantly do not over cook it. Your result when it’s done right, is a quick, healthy, and flavorful prepared dish.
You don’t need to be a French chef to know how to cook. You need a bit of patience, a few pieces of cookware and a good sharp knife. Once you get started, the end result is well worth the trouble; there is nothing like a good home cooked meal fresh out of the oven or off your stove top. If you like to eat good food, learn how to cook. Like Julia Child once quoted to the NYT “we should enjoy food and have fun, it’s one of the simplest and nicest pleasures in life. Bon Appetit!
Some people eat to live while others live to eat. It’s a scientific fact of life, we must eat food to survive, period. So, it’s fair to say some people just go through the motions and ingest food out of necessity. This group I would classify as those who eat to live. Others consume food because they enjoy the texture, smell and taste of food. This group I would classify as those who live to eat. These people not only experiment consuming different types of foods, they experiment with different methods of cooking their food such as baking, sautéing or poaching.
For some, an item wrapped in plastic filled with preservatives that has been sitting on a shelf in a box at a local grocery store for who knows how long is considered food. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve purchased this type of food before, as I’m sure many of us have. But take a freshly baked batch of cookies, brownies or bars out of your oven and wrap these up for a future snack…….First off, you know what’s in the ingredients, second, it’s way more cost efficient to bake your own, and third you have the “free” delicious aroma of fresh baked goods penetrating your home.
We’ve all heard or read about eating fried food is bad for your health. I wholeheartedly agree that eating fried food at every meal would be bad for anyone’s health, however, olive oil is apparently the “good “ oil to consume. The extra virgin variety contains no refined oil which makes it easier for the body to digest, it’s high in antioxidants and it’s ideal for trying to lower bad cholesterol. With this being said, how yummy would a boneless chicken breast or a filet of fish taste sautéed in oil olive verses the deep fried version of the same from a fast food restaurant. In all seriousness, if you plan ahead, the time to make these things at home is not as time consuming as you’d think, plus you are benefiting from eating more healthy by sautéing your food.
I know for some of you Mainers, poaching means to hunt illegally, but the poaching I’m referring to is the process of simmering food in liquid. Contrary to belief, eggs aren’t the only food to poach. You can poach practically any food, the trick is doing it right. This means maintaining the temperature below the boiling point, do not move your food around in the pan and most importantly do not over cook it. Your result when it’s done right, is a quick, healthy, and flavorful prepared dish.
You don’t need to be a French chef to know how to cook. You need a bit of patience, a few pieces of cookware and a good sharp knife. Once you get started, the end result is well worth the trouble; there is nothing like a good home cooked meal fresh out of the oven or off your stove top. If you like to eat good food, learn how to cook. Like Julia Child once quoted to the NYT “we should enjoy food and have fun, it’s one of the simplest and nicest pleasures in life. Bon Appetit!
Monday, February 22, 2010
complete 5 graf cause essay
Late as usual and in a foul mood, I was hastily running down the three flights of stairs at the Portland apartment. The foul mood stemming from the extremely bad marriage I was so desperately trying to get out of and I’d overslept again! Out of nowhere comes this guy moseying his way up the stairwell like he did he didn’t have a care in the world. Just about the time I was going to gross him out for being in my way, I looked up at his face and standing before me was this very handsome stranger. Instead of my usual “move it buddy, can’t you see I’m in a hurry!” what came out was “do you want a roommate?” Where THAT question came from was way beyond my comprehension, he was a complete stranger and yet he didn’t look a bit offended by my remark. He just stood there grinning at me with his arms slightly crossed over his chest, like he was waiting for me to say more. Speechless, all I could muster was a smile back while thinking to myself, where did he come from, why haven’t I seen him around, is he new in town, is he single, will he ask me out?
Standing in the stairwell, the vibes between us were so powerful like we’d known each other forever, yet I knew nothing about him. Once he smiled back at me, I melted, and at that very moment we connected. It was the beginning of what some would call “love at first sight”
You know, love at first sight when your heart beats so fast, you fear it will pop out of your chest. When every waking moment is consumed with thoughts of this person, so much you can never fall asleep. When the love is so good, it’s like a fix, fuel you can’t live without, but when love sours, that fix, like a bad batch, can kill you.
Yes, love is truly a mystery and this new found love was particularly mysterious for three reasons; I was in the middle of a bitter divorce, I didn’t have a clue who he was, and most of all I didn’t believe in the cliché love at first sight.
No matter how disheartening divorce can be, you must always focus on the positive and remember there is a light at the end of that tunnel. My divorce was as bad as they get; not only was he mean and controlling, I had a child with him and he wanted custody. No matter how far I ran, he would always find me. He no more wanted a child in his life than he would having a gun to his head, he was simply trying to punish me by fighting for full custody. He wasn’t capable of taking care of himself let alone another person; he’d made that very clear over the past couple years. So there I was running again, staying with my best friend in Portland and that’s when I met him, the stranger in the stairwell.
When you’re experiencing any kind of tragedy in life, it’s hard to comprehend your mind could even wrap itself around meeting new people let alone strangers. My mind must have been an exception to the rule because right then, right there I knew what was happening having those vibes, those feelings of connection with my stranger. Come to find out, that man on the stairs turned out to be my new hope in life. He was actually there for me, he’d come to save me! You see, I was in Portland at a friends house without a car and on the run, again. The man I’d met on the stairs was there to pick me up and take me home. My stranger wasn’t a stranger after all, he was a good friend to my brother, and he knew practically everything about me, stemming all the way back to my childhood. He was my knight in shining armor, there to take me away and end all my pain and suffering. My dear brother, always looking out for me, had sent his best man to rescue me.
With my heart all a flutter and joy flowing through my veins, I couldn’t stop from smiling. Never having a stitch of luck in my life, for the first time in a long time I was getting the feeling of good fortune and certainty. It was like this huge weight finally fell off my shoulders and sheer happiness was taking it’s place. Life up to this point for me had been nothing but misery and disappointment and here I was getting a second chance at love, a second chance at life. Was I falling for him because the story was such a fairytale? Na, it couldn’t be the story line, not when I was experiencing this incredible connection with him, feelings of giddiness, bliss and comfort. He was my fuel, my fix, my love at first sight. Instantly, my mind had changed about the cliché, I had no choice, I was falling and falling fast for the stranger I’d just met on the three flights of stairs at the Portland apartment.
With the connection I had with the stranger on the stairs, you’d have thought I'd lived happily ever after and in all actuality, I did marry the stranger and remained married for many years. The marriage did eventually fall apart like some due, every circumstance is different or at least that’s what everyone thinks. It usually boils down to a couple of the same issues, money and sex but that’s besides the point. Although I may have two marriages under my belt, it doesn’t mean I stopped believing in love at first sight. Maybe my stranger changed my belief in the cliché or maybe I’m just getting smarter and wiser in my old age but I can truthfully tell you it still exists. I can say this because I am in love for the third time in my life and no, I’m not married. I did share my story with my new man because at the time we met (eleven years ago) I didn’t think I could ever fall in love again and I felt he needed the truth. Third time’s a charm or is it three strikes your out….either way, I’m happy, I’m content and my heart still flutters from time to time.
Standing in the stairwell, the vibes between us were so powerful like we’d known each other forever, yet I knew nothing about him. Once he smiled back at me, I melted, and at that very moment we connected. It was the beginning of what some would call “love at first sight”
You know, love at first sight when your heart beats so fast, you fear it will pop out of your chest. When every waking moment is consumed with thoughts of this person, so much you can never fall asleep. When the love is so good, it’s like a fix, fuel you can’t live without, but when love sours, that fix, like a bad batch, can kill you.
Yes, love is truly a mystery and this new found love was particularly mysterious for three reasons; I was in the middle of a bitter divorce, I didn’t have a clue who he was, and most of all I didn’t believe in the cliché love at first sight.
No matter how disheartening divorce can be, you must always focus on the positive and remember there is a light at the end of that tunnel. My divorce was as bad as they get; not only was he mean and controlling, I had a child with him and he wanted custody. No matter how far I ran, he would always find me. He no more wanted a child in his life than he would having a gun to his head, he was simply trying to punish me by fighting for full custody. He wasn’t capable of taking care of himself let alone another person; he’d made that very clear over the past couple years. So there I was running again, staying with my best friend in Portland and that’s when I met him, the stranger in the stairwell.
When you’re experiencing any kind of tragedy in life, it’s hard to comprehend your mind could even wrap itself around meeting new people let alone strangers. My mind must have been an exception to the rule because right then, right there I knew what was happening having those vibes, those feelings of connection with my stranger. Come to find out, that man on the stairs turned out to be my new hope in life. He was actually there for me, he’d come to save me! You see, I was in Portland at a friends house without a car and on the run, again. The man I’d met on the stairs was there to pick me up and take me home. My stranger wasn’t a stranger after all, he was a good friend to my brother, and he knew practically everything about me, stemming all the way back to my childhood. He was my knight in shining armor, there to take me away and end all my pain and suffering. My dear brother, always looking out for me, had sent his best man to rescue me.
With my heart all a flutter and joy flowing through my veins, I couldn’t stop from smiling. Never having a stitch of luck in my life, for the first time in a long time I was getting the feeling of good fortune and certainty. It was like this huge weight finally fell off my shoulders and sheer happiness was taking it’s place. Life up to this point for me had been nothing but misery and disappointment and here I was getting a second chance at love, a second chance at life. Was I falling for him because the story was such a fairytale? Na, it couldn’t be the story line, not when I was experiencing this incredible connection with him, feelings of giddiness, bliss and comfort. He was my fuel, my fix, my love at first sight. Instantly, my mind had changed about the cliché, I had no choice, I was falling and falling fast for the stranger I’d just met on the three flights of stairs at the Portland apartment.
With the connection I had with the stranger on the stairs, you’d have thought I'd lived happily ever after and in all actuality, I did marry the stranger and remained married for many years. The marriage did eventually fall apart like some due, every circumstance is different or at least that’s what everyone thinks. It usually boils down to a couple of the same issues, money and sex but that’s besides the point. Although I may have two marriages under my belt, it doesn’t mean I stopped believing in love at first sight. Maybe my stranger changed my belief in the cliché or maybe I’m just getting smarter and wiser in my old age but I can truthfully tell you it still exists. I can say this because I am in love for the third time in my life and no, I’m not married. I did share my story with my new man because at the time we met (eleven years ago) I didn’t think I could ever fall in love again and I felt he needed the truth. Third time’s a charm or is it three strikes your out….either way, I’m happy, I’m content and my heart still flutters from time to time.
Meta-graf #9
Taking this English class and doing all these writing assignments has really pulled a big scab off my past. My cause essay was a true story and thinking back to all the prior assignments I’ve done since the beginning of class, all of them have been genuine. I find myself being able to write only non fiction because nothing else comes to mind. Needless to say, I’m doing a lot of reminiscing about the “old days” and giving my head a big shake like, wow, no way, I can’t believe some of the predicaments I got myself into over the years. I can only be thankful I’m at the age I am because I take things so differently now. I’m not so aggressive and spontaneous, I’ve learned some patience and have been able to “pick my battles” as my mother would put it. To the point, something really ironic happened while working on my 5 graf cause essay this weekend. The Portland friend, the one whose apartment I was staying at when I met the stranger on the 3 flights of stairs…..anyway, we haven’t spoken or seen each other for years. Not that we’re having issues or anything like that; it’s just life, kids, work, time, etc… and every time we do finally connect it’s like it was just yesterday. Well, as I was saying I was going back and forth with my last paragraph of my 5 graf cause essay and she called right out of the blue; so random, and SO ironic!! We talked for hours and went all the way back to our teen years remembering so many different….. ahem…situations…LOL. It was so cool to tell her I was JUST writing an English essay about her, well kind of about her, she was in it, and that I was just wrapping it up. What timing, huh? We are all caught up for now, but who knows, she just might be in another one of my assignments…..
Monday, February 15, 2010
intro cause 3rd revision
Late as usual and in a foul mood, I was hastily running down the three flights of stairs at the Portland apartment. The foul mood stemming from the extremely bad marriage I was so desperately trying to get out of and I’d overslept again! Out of nowhere comes this guy moseying his way up the stairwell like he did he didn’t have a care in the world. Just about the time I was going to gross him out for being in my way, I looked up at his face and standing before me was this very handsome stranger. Instead of my usual “move it buddy, can’t you see I’m in a hurry!” what came out was “do you want a roommate?” Where THAT question came from was way beyond my comprehension, he was a complete stranger and yet he didn’t look a bit offended by my remark. He just stood there grinning at me with his arms slightly crossed over his chest, like he was waiting for me to say more. Speechless, all I could muster was a smile back while thinking to myself, where did he come from, why haven’t I seen him around, is he new in town, is he single, will he ask me out?
Standing in the stairwell, the vibes between us were so powerful like we’d known each other forever, yet I knew nothing about him. Once he smiled back at me, I melted, and at that very moment we connected. It was the beginning of what some would call “love at first sight”
You know, love at first sight when your heart beats so fast, you fear it will pop out of your chest. When every waking moment is consumed with thoughts of this person, so much you can never fall asleep. When the love is so good, it’s like a fix, fuel you can’t live without, but when love sours, that fix, like a bad batch, can kill you.
Yes, love is truly a mystery and this new found love was particularly mysterious for three reasons; I was in the middle of a bitter divorce and a relationship was the last thing on my mind, I didn’t have a clue who he was, and most of all I didn’t believe in the cliché love at first sight.
Standing in the stairwell, the vibes between us were so powerful like we’d known each other forever, yet I knew nothing about him. Once he smiled back at me, I melted, and at that very moment we connected. It was the beginning of what some would call “love at first sight”
You know, love at first sight when your heart beats so fast, you fear it will pop out of your chest. When every waking moment is consumed with thoughts of this person, so much you can never fall asleep. When the love is so good, it’s like a fix, fuel you can’t live without, but when love sours, that fix, like a bad batch, can kill you.
Yes, love is truly a mystery and this new found love was particularly mysterious for three reasons; I was in the middle of a bitter divorce and a relationship was the last thing on my mind, I didn’t have a clue who he was, and most of all I didn’t believe in the cliché love at first sight.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
intro cause/second revision
Intro cause 2cnd revision
While staying with a friend in Portland many years ago, I met a man. This man would eventually become my second husband. How we became acquainted is quite the story. First of all, I never in a million years would have thought I’d ever marry again especially after the horror show my first marriage turned out to be. Second of all, I had no idea who this man was or where he came from except I had just met him in the stairwell of my friends apartment in a city in which I did not live and thirdly, well I guess it's what some call love at first sight.
While staying with a friend in Portland many years ago, I met a man. This man would eventually become my second husband. How we became acquainted is quite the story. First of all, I never in a million years would have thought I’d ever marry again especially after the horror show my first marriage turned out to be. Second of all, I had no idea who this man was or where he came from except I had just met him in the stairwell of my friends apartment in a city in which I did not live and thirdly, well I guess it's what some call love at first sight.
intro cause essay revised(first draft)
Late as usual and in a foul mood, I was hastily running down the three flights of stairs at the Portland apartment. Out of nowhere, there’s this guy moseying his way up the stairwell like he didn’t have a care in the world. Just about the time I was ready to gross him out for being in my way, I looked up at him and standing in front of me was this very handsome stranger. Instead of my usual “move it buddy, can’t you see I’m in a hurry!” what came out was “do you want a roommate?“ Where that question came from was beyond my comprehension, I'd never said anything like this to a stranger before and yet he didn’t seem to be a bit offended. Instead, he just stood there grinning with his arms slightly crossed over his chest like he was waiting for me to say something else. Speechless, all I could muster was a smile back while thinking to myself, where did he come from, I haven‘t seen him around, is he single, will he ask me out?
Saturday, February 13, 2010
intro 1 cause essays (first take)
The minute I laid eyes on him, the first thing that came out of my mouth was “do you want a roommate?”
I’m talking about a man I had just met who had driven to Portland with my step mother. She had brought him with her for the trip so she wouldn’t have to drive down alone. Of course my friend was mortified I would say something so brash, but the attraction was so intense, the words kind of fell out of my mouth. I knew absolutely nothing about him, but I would soon be finding out. Once he smiled at me, I melted, we connected and that was the beginning of what some call love at first sight.
I’m talking about a man I had just met who had driven to Portland with my step mother. She had brought him with her for the trip so she wouldn’t have to drive down alone. Of course my friend was mortified I would say something so brash, but the attraction was so intense, the words kind of fell out of my mouth. I knew absolutely nothing about him, but I would soon be finding out. Once he smiled at me, I melted, we connected and that was the beginning of what some call love at first sight.
intro 1 cause essays (second take)
Have you ever been so head over heels with someone it takes your breath away? Or experienced being so tongue tied no sound escapes your lips when you try to speak? Your heart is beating so rapid you swear it will pop out of your chest. Every waking moment your brain is flooded with thoughts of this person, so much that you can never fall asleep. If you have experienced any of these feelings, you were probably in love or were you? Love is a powerful drug; it can give you the feeling of joy, happiness and security but it can also make you feel lonely, sad and abandoned. When love is good, it’s like a fix, fuel you can’t live without it. When love is bad, that fix, like a bad batch can kill you. It’s hard to believe the meaning of love for one can give the feeling of being on top of the world but for another it makes them feel like crawling under a rock; complete opposites. So why do those who experience negative feelings of emotion call this love? Shouldn’t they call it loathe?
Graf #6 reaction to sample i searches
I can relate with the every first essay about beer making considering I have been making wine for many years. I was stressing about this I search paper because sit seemed like it would take a very long time to create it, but after going though these samples it has made me feel more confident.
Of course I loved the wedding cake essay too because I love to cook and bake! She really had a lot of questions pertaining to what exactly she wanted to find out. I can see my research paper compared to hers has far less questions. I’m thinking I should think up more questions to have more substancefor my iearch.
Choosing the right dog was a real eye opener for me. I haven’t had a dog in such a long time and I’ve been saying the minute I move back to Orrington I want a dog immediate. There is so much room out back for the doggie to run free. I certainly don’t need or want a pedigree considering how many animals are available for adoption. She really did a very thorough research on whether to get a dog or not
My aunt is big on genealogy so it was cool to be able to share this information with her and give her some of the web sites this student used for her research
I feel for the woman who wrote her I search on weight loss. My mother has struggled with her weight and thyroid problems most of her life, Society is cruel and mean to overweight people. Never do they ever think a person might be overweight because of medical issues.
My dad used to reload bullets. Great essay
Becoming a better dad reminds me of my own dad. My grandfather was kind of a mean man and had a wicked temper, especially as a younger man. My dad always said he didn’t ever want to be like him and he wasn’t, He made a conscience effort all of his life to remain on track and not be like him. He knew he didn’t like the way he was brought up and was certain he would never invoke that type of behavior on his own family
The wooden boat essay reminds me of my dad too. Among the fast cars, Harley Davidson’s, and airplanes boats were yet another pastime my father enjoyed. Even know he has a 45 foot house boat in the keys, and a flat boat for fishing.
Of course I loved the wedding cake essay too because I love to cook and bake! She really had a lot of questions pertaining to what exactly she wanted to find out. I can see my research paper compared to hers has far less questions. I’m thinking I should think up more questions to have more substancefor my iearch.
Choosing the right dog was a real eye opener for me. I haven’t had a dog in such a long time and I’ve been saying the minute I move back to Orrington I want a dog immediate. There is so much room out back for the doggie to run free. I certainly don’t need or want a pedigree considering how many animals are available for adoption. She really did a very thorough research on whether to get a dog or not
My aunt is big on genealogy so it was cool to be able to share this information with her and give her some of the web sites this student used for her research
I feel for the woman who wrote her I search on weight loss. My mother has struggled with her weight and thyroid problems most of her life, Society is cruel and mean to overweight people. Never do they ever think a person might be overweight because of medical issues.
My dad used to reload bullets. Great essay
Becoming a better dad reminds me of my own dad. My grandfather was kind of a mean man and had a wicked temper, especially as a younger man. My dad always said he didn’t ever want to be like him and he wasn’t, He made a conscience effort all of his life to remain on track and not be like him. He knew he didn’t like the way he was brought up and was certain he would never invoke that type of behavior on his own family
The wooden boat essay reminds me of my dad too. Among the fast cars, Harley Davidson’s, and airplanes boats were yet another pastime my father enjoyed. Even know he has a 45 foot house boat in the keys, and a flat boat for fishing.
Graf #8 reaction to cause essays
I could relate to the essay as to what makes a house a home ( Amanda Savoy) considering I’m in the process of a remodel myself. Her last paragraph is about doing a little at a time so you can afford it. That has to be the toughest part of redoing ones home. Just when you think you have saved the right amount for that certain project, it has gone sky high. In my case it was shingles for the roof last year. I believe because of the oil crisis there was a 30 percent price increase and that certainly wasn’t in the budget.
I love the falling in love piece (Angie Ecks) too because she hits in right on the money. Falling in love 3 times in my life and being with a man with children from another marriage or relationship is tough. We are the adult and we know better, but when your in a new relationship you want all the attention. There was point in one of my relationships I was jealous about pets! He was like Dr Doolittle and not only was it other friends pets it was stray animals would always come up to him like they knew him. I always thought, he’s treating that mangy mutt better than me. Look at him ooowing and aaahhhhing over that stupid dog
I would also like to hire Patsy Husson to come to my house and give me massages everyday! I loved her piece. I went to a massage therapist a few years back and I had never experienced anything so grand in my life! She was a pro. I remember jokingly after my first session if she’s marry me! LOL
I have also experienced what Debbie Knapp did with her house ( flooding) My first home I ever bought in Glenburn had a poor drainage system and one spring we had water almost up to the split level door of the ranch house! The sub pump stopped working and it was pouring in like a huge wave from the ocean. What a disaster. I lost so much stuff in that flood from all the storage I had under the stairs. Flood damage is nearly as bad as a fire to certain items.
I really liked Amada Lockards essay about snakes and snails an puppy dog tails!!!!It blows my mind to read about what other people have experienced in relationships that are so close to my own, its like I’m reading my own writing! I think back to that sad yet beautiful ballad Roberta Flack puts it in her song “Killing me softly “ about this young boy she heard sang a good song and how it felt he found her letters and read each one out loud, he sang as if her knew her in all her dark despair, strumming her pain, singing her life with his words.
I love the falling in love piece (Angie Ecks) too because she hits in right on the money. Falling in love 3 times in my life and being with a man with children from another marriage or relationship is tough. We are the adult and we know better, but when your in a new relationship you want all the attention. There was point in one of my relationships I was jealous about pets! He was like Dr Doolittle and not only was it other friends pets it was stray animals would always come up to him like they knew him. I always thought, he’s treating that mangy mutt better than me. Look at him ooowing and aaahhhhing over that stupid dog
I would also like to hire Patsy Husson to come to my house and give me massages everyday! I loved her piece. I went to a massage therapist a few years back and I had never experienced anything so grand in my life! She was a pro. I remember jokingly after my first session if she’s marry me! LOL
I have also experienced what Debbie Knapp did with her house ( flooding) My first home I ever bought in Glenburn had a poor drainage system and one spring we had water almost up to the split level door of the ranch house! The sub pump stopped working and it was pouring in like a huge wave from the ocean. What a disaster. I lost so much stuff in that flood from all the storage I had under the stairs. Flood damage is nearly as bad as a fire to certain items.
I really liked Amada Lockards essay about snakes and snails an puppy dog tails!!!!It blows my mind to read about what other people have experienced in relationships that are so close to my own, its like I’m reading my own writing! I think back to that sad yet beautiful ballad Roberta Flack puts it in her song “Killing me softly “ about this young boy she heard sang a good song and how it felt he found her letters and read each one out loud, he sang as if her knew her in all her dark despair, strumming her pain, singing her life with his words.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Graf #7 Person
It’s been said that everyone has a guardian angel and I believe this to be true. Each religion and every individual has their own concept of what an angel means to them. I believe an angel is someone who has faith in you and protects you from harm. An angel is also someone who loves you unconditionally and watches over you continuously. For many years, I have believed my grandmother Theresa (grammy) to be my guardian angel.
Fortunately, I was able to spend a lot of time with my grandparents while growing up for they lived very close. As a child, I knew I was extremely loved by my grammy. It wasn’t only because I was the first grandchild born to her firstborn son, it wasn’t because she told me all the time how much she loved me, it was more her behavior toward me; joyful eyes, happy smiles and hugs, tons of hugs. She would always say “you’re such a good girl, grammy loves you SO much” We had such a strong connection with one another, an unspoken bond. I knew I would always be safe when I was with her and I would never be able to do anything bad in her eyes. Over the years, she rocked me to sleep, cared for me when I was sick, played numerous games with me and we never missed the ice-cream truck! My grandmother always read to me and taught me how to cook, and was she ever a great cook! We did countless puzzles together and Yahtzee was our favorite game to play on the weekends at camp. She with her Red Rose tea, me with my Dr. Pepper.
Although my grandmother passed away nearly 25 years ago, not a day goes by that I don’t think of her. By keeping those memories alive, close to my heart and in my thoughts, she is always with me. She protects and watches over me, has faith in me and will always love me unconditionally. My grandmothers spirit remains strong and unbroken, she will forever be my angel.
It’s been said that everyone has a guardian angel and I believe this to be true. Each religion and every individual has their own concept of what an angel means to them. I believe an angel is someone who has faith in you and protects you from harm. An angel is also someone who loves you unconditionally and watches over you continuously. For many years, I have believed my grandmother Theresa (grammy) to be my guardian angel.
Fortunately, I was able to spend a lot of time with my grandparents while growing up for they lived very close. As a child, I knew I was extremely loved by my grammy. It wasn’t only because I was the first grandchild born to her firstborn son, it wasn’t because she told me all the time how much she loved me, it was more her behavior toward me; joyful eyes, happy smiles and hugs, tons of hugs. She would always say “you’re such a good girl, grammy loves you SO much” We had such a strong connection with one another, an unspoken bond. I knew I would always be safe when I was with her and I would never be able to do anything bad in her eyes. Over the years, she rocked me to sleep, cared for me when I was sick, played numerous games with me and we never missed the ice-cream truck! My grandmother always read to me and taught me how to cook, and was she ever a great cook! We did countless puzzles together and Yahtzee was our favorite game to play on the weekends at camp. She with her Red Rose tea, me with my Dr. Pepper.
Although my grandmother passed away nearly 25 years ago, not a day goes by that I don’t think of her. By keeping those memories alive, close to my heart and in my thoughts, she is always with me. She protects and watches over me, has faith in me and will always love me unconditionally. My grandmothers spirit remains strong and unbroken, she will forever be my angel.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Graf #5 things
Graf #5 Things
It was a 1964 Pontiac LeMans convertible. This wasn’t your stock version Pontiac, oh no, dad and the guys got a hold of it and had made some changes over the years. I have to say I loved that car not only because it was manufactured the same year I was born, it was given to me on my 19th birthday by my dad. The exterior was painted bronze, the convertible top was cream color and the interior was purple. It was rear wheel drive, limited slip rear end with wide Remington tires, aluminum mag wheels and bucket seats. Boy oh boy was she a head turner and not just because of how she looked, but how she sounded. The engine had been replaced with a 400 cc big block 4 barrel, it had dual exhaust, a close ratio Muncie 4 speed manual transmission with lock in reverse and a Hurst shifter. I’ve heard the nick name “rock crusher” for those Muncie’s but I always thought the tranny made more of a whiney sound. That car would scream power and it was so much fun to drive. I swear it took me weeks just to learn how to go from stop to move without squealing the tires although it made me smile each time I spun them out. Once I got the hang of driving her, I learned how to get rubber and mean it! I could smoke those tires a half mile down the road. I was that girl with a hot rod at 19! How friggin cool was that!
My most memorable drive was one on I-95 heading north up past the Hogan road exit. I was alone in the car so I have no witnesses to attest the story except maybe the guy who was “trying” to race me up the highway. He had one of those import sports cars, couldn’t tell you to this day what kind, but he made it clear he wanted to see what my old car had under the hood. He pulled up beside the driver side, looked over at me and revved his engine. First time I looked back at him, I just shook my head back and forth, like I was saying “no, don’t think so pal”. This guy just wouldn’t give up and he was really beginning to irritate me. While driving side by side on his 4th attempt to race me, I turned my head to the left, looked over at him and gave him the “oh, yeah, you wanna race?” look…. So I dumped her down to 3rd gear and stepped on it. By the time I hit 4th gear, I was long gone. I glanced down to look at my speedometer and the needle was buried, I was going well over 120 mph. It was the one and only time I’ve ever done anything that crazy before as far as driving fast is concerned. I can still remember that feeling, not only one of victory but how the force of speed made my heart feel like it would explode out of my chest. Unfortunately, I don‘t have that car any longer, but I’ll forever have the memories created during the time I did own it.
It was a 1964 Pontiac LeMans convertible. This wasn’t your stock version Pontiac, oh no, dad and the guys got a hold of it and had made some changes over the years. I have to say I loved that car not only because it was manufactured the same year I was born, it was given to me on my 19th birthday by my dad. The exterior was painted bronze, the convertible top was cream color and the interior was purple. It was rear wheel drive, limited slip rear end with wide Remington tires, aluminum mag wheels and bucket seats. Boy oh boy was she a head turner and not just because of how she looked, but how she sounded. The engine had been replaced with a 400 cc big block 4 barrel, it had dual exhaust, a close ratio Muncie 4 speed manual transmission with lock in reverse and a Hurst shifter. I’ve heard the nick name “rock crusher” for those Muncie’s but I always thought the tranny made more of a whiney sound. That car would scream power and it was so much fun to drive. I swear it took me weeks just to learn how to go from stop to move without squealing the tires although it made me smile each time I spun them out. Once I got the hang of driving her, I learned how to get rubber and mean it! I could smoke those tires a half mile down the road. I was that girl with a hot rod at 19! How friggin cool was that!
My most memorable drive was one on I-95 heading north up past the Hogan road exit. I was alone in the car so I have no witnesses to attest the story except maybe the guy who was “trying” to race me up the highway. He had one of those import sports cars, couldn’t tell you to this day what kind, but he made it clear he wanted to see what my old car had under the hood. He pulled up beside the driver side, looked over at me and revved his engine. First time I looked back at him, I just shook my head back and forth, like I was saying “no, don’t think so pal”. This guy just wouldn’t give up and he was really beginning to irritate me. While driving side by side on his 4th attempt to race me, I turned my head to the left, looked over at him and gave him the “oh, yeah, you wanna race?” look…. So I dumped her down to 3rd gear and stepped on it. By the time I hit 4th gear, I was long gone. I glanced down to look at my speedometer and the needle was buried, I was going well over 120 mph. It was the one and only time I’ve ever done anything that crazy before as far as driving fast is concerned. I can still remember that feeling, not only one of victory but how the force of speed made my heart feel like it would explode out of my chest. Unfortunately, I don‘t have that car any longer, but I’ll forever have the memories created during the time I did own it.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Graf #4 Unique
Graf #4 Unique
I am a 45 year old career woman soon to be new nana. Everyone tells me I look too young to be a grandmother and I just smile and say thank you. Because I live in the city I’ve been walking to work for the past four and a half years. I own a silver ford Taurus but wish it was a red Corvette. Once upon a time before the divorce, I owned my very own custom teal and green Harley Davidson Sportster but have downsized to a red Raleigh all terrain multi speed bicycle. (rarely ever used) Over the years, I’ve contemplated getting a tattoo of a black cougar crawling up my right ankle but it seems pointless at this stage in the game.
Growing up, when it was my weekend with dad, it was spent at biker parties and motorcycle shops. Weekends at moms meant church on Sunday and tea parties. I’ve never been to jail but know probably too many that have or still are. Not saying I haven’t ever broken the law, I’m just saying I’ve never been caught.
I have a lot of friends, many I’ve known since elementary and high school. I’ve learned over the years that honesty is the best policy. My family is the most important thing in my life and my cats are right up there in the top 2. I’ve become a great cook over the years and fortunately I enjoy doing it. I love listening to classic 70’s rock and roll a little too loud and will attend an occasional concert. Eric Clapton is my favorite guitarist of all times and I can admit I’ve had the biggest crush on him for most of my adult life. I’ve never played an instrument, but can hold a tune quite nicely. I’ve love to read and thank my lucky stars I am literate. I like to have a couple cocktails every now and then, enjoy good wine & pasta, socializing with my friends and taking a movie in once in a while. I’ve always worn my hair long until this past year, quit smoking 5 years ago and could probably stand to drop a couple pounds. With this being said, I’m thankful for my health, my job and my life; I wouldn’t change a thing.
I am a 45 year old career woman soon to be new nana. Everyone tells me I look too young to be a grandmother and I just smile and say thank you. Because I live in the city I’ve been walking to work for the past four and a half years. I own a silver ford Taurus but wish it was a red Corvette. Once upon a time before the divorce, I owned my very own custom teal and green Harley Davidson Sportster but have downsized to a red Raleigh all terrain multi speed bicycle. (rarely ever used) Over the years, I’ve contemplated getting a tattoo of a black cougar crawling up my right ankle but it seems pointless at this stage in the game.
Growing up, when it was my weekend with dad, it was spent at biker parties and motorcycle shops. Weekends at moms meant church on Sunday and tea parties. I’ve never been to jail but know probably too many that have or still are. Not saying I haven’t ever broken the law, I’m just saying I’ve never been caught.
I have a lot of friends, many I’ve known since elementary and high school. I’ve learned over the years that honesty is the best policy. My family is the most important thing in my life and my cats are right up there in the top 2. I’ve become a great cook over the years and fortunately I enjoy doing it. I love listening to classic 70’s rock and roll a little too loud and will attend an occasional concert. Eric Clapton is my favorite guitarist of all times and I can admit I’ve had the biggest crush on him for most of my adult life. I’ve never played an instrument, but can hold a tune quite nicely. I’ve love to read and thank my lucky stars I am literate. I like to have a couple cocktails every now and then, enjoy good wine & pasta, socializing with my friends and taking a movie in once in a while. I’ve always worn my hair long until this past year, quit smoking 5 years ago and could probably stand to drop a couple pounds. With this being said, I’m thankful for my health, my job and my life; I wouldn’t change a thing.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Graf #3 Inventory and Inventory
Graf #3 Inventory and Inventory
List of the items currently on the make shift desk:
* Compaq laptop computer
* Lexmark multi function printer
* bronze adjustable desk lamp
* wicker and rod iron shaped into shells bathroom cup holder filled with
38 pens, 2 machanical pencils and one black sharpie
* clear glass container with a cobalt blue glass top filled with individually
wrapped wintergreen lifesaver candies
* pile of printed off ENG 101 course information including assignments
* 1 2010 United Health Care calendar hanging over the computer
* a newly transplanted English ivy houseplant
* coffee cup half full of brewed Folgers black silk coffee and chocolate raspberry creamer
* one wooden oak desk organizer approximately 16”across 6”inches wide 6” high with 5 separate compartments;
CONTENTS of the desk organizer:
* 5 packs of yellow post it notes
* 16 pieces of random paper; most with phone numbers scribbled on them, 3 have recipes written on them, 6 have email addresses written on them
* 1 tube carmex chap stick that looks like you have to dig it out with your fingernail
* 1 adaptor plug
* 1 thumb drive
* 3 business cards; Ron Turner- EMCC, Lisa McGinley- Key Bank, Sandy Nute HSHR
* scotch brand gloss finish transparent tape
* Stanley 12 foot power lock tape measure & a Stanley 10 foot tape measure
* 2 containers of white out, one completely dried out and unusable
* 1 nearly used up roll of black electrical tape
* couple of white pipe cleaners
* address book filled with odd and end scraps of paper with names,
phone numbers and addresses that have yet to be entered
* 1 big display Unisonic brand calculator
* tube of superglue I’m guessing is dried out like the container of white out
* a sunglass clip made for your visor of your car
* a part of a houseplant hanger
* 1 blue elastic
* a quick draw pen with clip that won’t retract
* random keys
* 2 black and silver clips
* 1 small nail
* 1 short black screw
* 1 yellow swirled birthday cake candle that hasn’t seen a match or lighter yet
* 1 very small craftsman screwdriver, I’d say about 4”
* 2 Microsoft offices 2003 CD’s; one is defective
* 1 can pledge multi surface clean and dust spray
* 1 crumpled up piece viva paper towel
* 1 small “The Humane Society” 2010 calendar
* 1 very small “my EMMC provider online” 2010 calendar with a sticky backing
* Old Virginia candle company McIntosh wax melts
* package of America United We Stand cards with white envelopes
* 1 package containing 4 refillable paper mate mechanical pencils
* 1 triangle shaped marker with a yellow, blue and orange markers
* bullet, looks like a 22 caliber
* stapler
* 3 wooden checkers, 2 black, 1 red
* handful of paperclips
* 1 grey iPod shuffle with ear buds attached
The owner of this make shift desk has many items that a desk should have available for ones use. Sounds like they’re able to keep the computer and area clean with the pledge spray and paper towel. Thumb drives are an essential part of owning a computer, hopefully they have anther one or two somewhere else around the house. They’ll certainly be able to tell what the date is with 3 calendars and by the size of the calculator, they shouldn’t have any problems balancing their checkbook ( if they do that kind of thing) This person is obviously very busy if they haven’t entered phone numbers and addresses in the address book, but they may have this information stored in their cell phone. At the very least, they have one good container of white out liquid paper, and a stapler (not sure about staples though, so the stapler may be more of a paperweight) Hopefully this person will be able to use that yellow candle some day for someone’s birthday, so they’ll be able to enjoy some cake, too. The owner of this list sounds like they may be some what patriotic with the package of United We Stand cards and having a bullet they probably abide by the second amendments right to bear arms. This individual can measure things anywhere up to 12’ and write them down on yellow sticky notes with the abundance of writing utensils and keep them all together with a paperclip. They might like to play games or use to anyway with those 3 abandoned checkers. The plant is healthy choice to have around for producing oxygen and candy is always a good thing. Hopefully they have a chance to finish that cup of coffee before noon and listen to some music on their iPod.
List of the items currently on the make shift desk:
* Compaq laptop computer
* Lexmark multi function printer
* bronze adjustable desk lamp
* wicker and rod iron shaped into shells bathroom cup holder filled with
38 pens, 2 machanical pencils and one black sharpie
* clear glass container with a cobalt blue glass top filled with individually
wrapped wintergreen lifesaver candies
* pile of printed off ENG 101 course information including assignments
* 1 2010 United Health Care calendar hanging over the computer
* a newly transplanted English ivy houseplant
* coffee cup half full of brewed Folgers black silk coffee and chocolate raspberry creamer
* one wooden oak desk organizer approximately 16”across 6”inches wide 6” high with 5 separate compartments;
CONTENTS of the desk organizer:
* 5 packs of yellow post it notes
* 16 pieces of random paper; most with phone numbers scribbled on them, 3 have recipes written on them, 6 have email addresses written on them
* 1 tube carmex chap stick that looks like you have to dig it out with your fingernail
* 1 adaptor plug
* 1 thumb drive
* 3 business cards; Ron Turner- EMCC, Lisa McGinley- Key Bank, Sandy Nute HSHR
* scotch brand gloss finish transparent tape
* Stanley 12 foot power lock tape measure & a Stanley 10 foot tape measure
* 2 containers of white out, one completely dried out and unusable
* 1 nearly used up roll of black electrical tape
* couple of white pipe cleaners
* address book filled with odd and end scraps of paper with names,
phone numbers and addresses that have yet to be entered
* 1 big display Unisonic brand calculator
* tube of superglue I’m guessing is dried out like the container of white out
* a sunglass clip made for your visor of your car
* a part of a houseplant hanger
* 1 blue elastic
* a quick draw pen with clip that won’t retract
* random keys
* 2 black and silver clips
* 1 small nail
* 1 short black screw
* 1 yellow swirled birthday cake candle that hasn’t seen a match or lighter yet
* 1 very small craftsman screwdriver, I’d say about 4”
* 2 Microsoft offices 2003 CD’s; one is defective
* 1 can pledge multi surface clean and dust spray
* 1 crumpled up piece viva paper towel
* 1 small “The Humane Society” 2010 calendar
* 1 very small “my EMMC provider online” 2010 calendar with a sticky backing
* Old Virginia candle company McIntosh wax melts
* package of America United We Stand cards with white envelopes
* 1 package containing 4 refillable paper mate mechanical pencils
* 1 triangle shaped marker with a yellow, blue and orange markers
* bullet, looks like a 22 caliber
* stapler
* 3 wooden checkers, 2 black, 1 red
* handful of paperclips
* 1 grey iPod shuffle with ear buds attached
The owner of this make shift desk has many items that a desk should have available for ones use. Sounds like they’re able to keep the computer and area clean with the pledge spray and paper towel. Thumb drives are an essential part of owning a computer, hopefully they have anther one or two somewhere else around the house. They’ll certainly be able to tell what the date is with 3 calendars and by the size of the calculator, they shouldn’t have any problems balancing their checkbook ( if they do that kind of thing) This person is obviously very busy if they haven’t entered phone numbers and addresses in the address book, but they may have this information stored in their cell phone. At the very least, they have one good container of white out liquid paper, and a stapler (not sure about staples though, so the stapler may be more of a paperweight) Hopefully this person will be able to use that yellow candle some day for someone’s birthday, so they’ll be able to enjoy some cake, too. The owner of this list sounds like they may be some what patriotic with the package of United We Stand cards and having a bullet they probably abide by the second amendments right to bear arms. This individual can measure things anywhere up to 12’ and write them down on yellow sticky notes with the abundance of writing utensils and keep them all together with a paperclip. They might like to play games or use to anyway with those 3 abandoned checkers. The plant is healthy choice to have around for producing oxygen and candy is always a good thing. Hopefully they have a chance to finish that cup of coffee before noon and listen to some music on their iPod.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Graf #2 Worst Teacher
Graf #2 Worst Teacher
All the girls thought he was cute. He was younger than the other teachers with his long, wavy hair, dark eyes and dazzling smile. There was something mysterious about him. He had a way about him none of us could figure out. We had heard “the” stories but we still couldn’t wait to get into 7th grade to have Mr. White for our history teacher.
The 8th graders warned us about his temper, the pointer stick, some of his actions in the classroom but being 12 year old girls, we couldn’t wait to stare and ogle at the cutest teacher in the entire school. Some of the older kids told us he was the coolest teacher because he would have random field trips out behind the school whenever the weather was nice. Come to find out, he had a nicotine habit and really only needed to get his fix but that’s beside the point, we still thought he was hot because he smoked.
His classroom was set up different than all the others classrooms at the school. The desks were lined up side by side in a horseshoe pattern around the entire room, except for two. Those two were pressed to the front of his desk, so close you could smell his breath. If you acted out or got a bad grade, your new assigned seat was one of those desks crammed right up front against his with your back facing the rest of the class.
Besides the odd seating arrangement, the classroom had all the necessary amenities; black board, chalk, erasers, books etc. Looking back, I remember the door was wooden with a square window in it like all the other classroom doors except this door had a shade over the window and it could be locked from the inside.
We learned early in the semester not to piss Mr. White off. All those stories about his temper and the pointer stick were coming true. We had been warned.
I can’t tell you how many of those sticks he broke that year by his violent and uncontrollable fits of rage. Then there were those other days when Mr. White was in a different mood. Whenever he got up from his desk to go lock the door and pull the shade with that look, we knew he was calling the “goon squad”. The goon squad consisted of all the male students in the classroom. He would set his chair in the middle of the horseshoe style classroom, take his pointer stick and choose his girl.
Mr. White was having one of those days. He got up from his desk and carried his chair to the center of the classroom. Slowly he went to the door, locked it and pulled down the shade. My heart was racing. I saw that look, those eyes, the smirk and it was me he was staring at! He walked back to the center of the room and sat in his chair. As usual, all the girls heads were bowed not daring to look up in hopes they wouldn’t be noticed and wishing they were invisible at that very moment. All the boys were frothing at the mouth with their eyes wide, waiting for his command. With the stick raised, he pointed it at me and yelled for the the goon squad to do their thing. I was mortified and tried to scream for help but no sound escaped my lips. I was begging the other girls to step in and help me but they didn’t dare, just like all the other times. I was hanging onto my desk for dear life, pulling it partway across the room while the boys of the “goon squad” had me by my legs. It was useless, I was pretty strong but one girl against 10 boys….you get the picture.
From all the struggling with the goon squad, my shirt came un-tucked and was practically around my head, just the way teacher liked it. I lost one of my shoes during the battle and my glasses went flying across the room. I fought back as hard as I could; kicking and squirming, arms flailing but the boys strength over came me as they dragged me to the center of the room and placed me over teachers lap. Oh my God, this is so humiliating I thought to myself, just get this over with. I turned my head slightly to look up at him with pleading eyes, please, please don’t do this to me I begged. As he smiled and raised the pointer, I had no choice but to give up. I was exhausted, he had won the battle. All the boys were hooting and hollering, egging him on. It was then I received my spanking from the teacher. I knew he was enjoying this, I could feel it while my limp body was draped over his lap. I thought I was going to die right there in front of the entire class but I didn’t. I survived the wrath of Mr. White and his distorted teaching ways, but will never forget the horror I endured in my 7th grade class that day.
All the girls thought he was cute. He was younger than the other teachers with his long, wavy hair, dark eyes and dazzling smile. There was something mysterious about him. He had a way about him none of us could figure out. We had heard “the” stories but we still couldn’t wait to get into 7th grade to have Mr. White for our history teacher.
The 8th graders warned us about his temper, the pointer stick, some of his actions in the classroom but being 12 year old girls, we couldn’t wait to stare and ogle at the cutest teacher in the entire school. Some of the older kids told us he was the coolest teacher because he would have random field trips out behind the school whenever the weather was nice. Come to find out, he had a nicotine habit and really only needed to get his fix but that’s beside the point, we still thought he was hot because he smoked.
His classroom was set up different than all the others classrooms at the school. The desks were lined up side by side in a horseshoe pattern around the entire room, except for two. Those two were pressed to the front of his desk, so close you could smell his breath. If you acted out or got a bad grade, your new assigned seat was one of those desks crammed right up front against his with your back facing the rest of the class.
Besides the odd seating arrangement, the classroom had all the necessary amenities; black board, chalk, erasers, books etc. Looking back, I remember the door was wooden with a square window in it like all the other classroom doors except this door had a shade over the window and it could be locked from the inside.
We learned early in the semester not to piss Mr. White off. All those stories about his temper and the pointer stick were coming true. We had been warned.
I can’t tell you how many of those sticks he broke that year by his violent and uncontrollable fits of rage. Then there were those other days when Mr. White was in a different mood. Whenever he got up from his desk to go lock the door and pull the shade with that look, we knew he was calling the “goon squad”. The goon squad consisted of all the male students in the classroom. He would set his chair in the middle of the horseshoe style classroom, take his pointer stick and choose his girl.
Mr. White was having one of those days. He got up from his desk and carried his chair to the center of the classroom. Slowly he went to the door, locked it and pulled down the shade. My heart was racing. I saw that look, those eyes, the smirk and it was me he was staring at! He walked back to the center of the room and sat in his chair. As usual, all the girls heads were bowed not daring to look up in hopes they wouldn’t be noticed and wishing they were invisible at that very moment. All the boys were frothing at the mouth with their eyes wide, waiting for his command. With the stick raised, he pointed it at me and yelled for the the goon squad to do their thing. I was mortified and tried to scream for help but no sound escaped my lips. I was begging the other girls to step in and help me but they didn’t dare, just like all the other times. I was hanging onto my desk for dear life, pulling it partway across the room while the boys of the “goon squad” had me by my legs. It was useless, I was pretty strong but one girl against 10 boys….you get the picture.
From all the struggling with the goon squad, my shirt came un-tucked and was practically around my head, just the way teacher liked it. I lost one of my shoes during the battle and my glasses went flying across the room. I fought back as hard as I could; kicking and squirming, arms flailing but the boys strength over came me as they dragged me to the center of the room and placed me over teachers lap. Oh my God, this is so humiliating I thought to myself, just get this over with. I turned my head slightly to look up at him with pleading eyes, please, please don’t do this to me I begged. As he smiled and raised the pointer, I had no choice but to give up. I was exhausted, he had won the battle. All the boys were hooting and hollering, egging him on. It was then I received my spanking from the teacher. I knew he was enjoying this, I could feel it while my limp body was draped over his lap. I thought I was going to die right there in front of the entire class but I didn’t. I survived the wrath of Mr. White and his distorted teaching ways, but will never forget the horror I endured in my 7th grade class that day.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Graf #1 Hands
GRAF #1 HANDS
The hands my eyes are focused on at this very moment have a very used look about them, weathered I dare say. The palms have deep lines running up and down, side to side in a pattern unique to the individual. I notice veins the color of the evening sky splashed across the top of the hands. The fingers are very long and each unpolished fingernail is a different length with ridges running vertically. The cuticles look thick with dry skin and none of the fingernails have any white moon looking features at the base of the nail, lunula I believe they are called. The thumbnails, however, do show a slight glimpse of those white crescents and it makes me wonder why. I see what looks to be a burn healing on the right hand, probably from an oven judging by the shape. The left hand from the palm down to the wrist appears to have been scratched by a cat. I can only hope the scratch was accidental and not provoked by the hands.
Although these hands may not look soft and smooth, they are caring hands full of strength and love. They give a firm handshake to some while others get a wave or a “high five” These hands have endured many years of work; cleaning with out gloves, chopping and cooking, gardening and canning. They have built homes, torn some down, painted, sewn and crafted. Many things have been picked up or placed into these hands. There was even a period of time when the left hand ring finger wore a wedding band. These hands have also gently patted babies backs, rocked some to sleep and gracefully wiped away a child’s tear.
The hands I have described to you are my own.
The hands my eyes are focused on at this very moment have a very used look about them, weathered I dare say. The palms have deep lines running up and down, side to side in a pattern unique to the individual. I notice veins the color of the evening sky splashed across the top of the hands. The fingers are very long and each unpolished fingernail is a different length with ridges running vertically. The cuticles look thick with dry skin and none of the fingernails have any white moon looking features at the base of the nail, lunula I believe they are called. The thumbnails, however, do show a slight glimpse of those white crescents and it makes me wonder why. I see what looks to be a burn healing on the right hand, probably from an oven judging by the shape. The left hand from the palm down to the wrist appears to have been scratched by a cat. I can only hope the scratch was accidental and not provoked by the hands.
Although these hands may not look soft and smooth, they are caring hands full of strength and love. They give a firm handshake to some while others get a wave or a “high five” These hands have endured many years of work; cleaning with out gloves, chopping and cooking, gardening and canning. They have built homes, torn some down, painted, sewn and crafted. Many things have been picked up or placed into these hands. There was even a period of time when the left hand ring finger wore a wedding band. These hands have also gently patted babies backs, rocked some to sleep and gracefully wiped away a child’s tear.
The hands I have described to you are my own.
Monday, January 11, 2010
My first blog
I have some exciting news to share on this bitter cold Monday morning. After many painful months of the "unknown" I have reunited with my daughter! I finally received a phone call from her last night and we've made plans to "do lunch" today to catch up. You couldn't slap the smirk off my face, no matter how hard you hit me.........
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