Essay #4 -Roads...What a person follows.
Sometimes I think that life is like a relentless path of different roads. If you think about it, we start life fresh and new, like a dirt road always needing the ongoing support to keep it maintained. The rigid road that becomes paved and smooth, like the way that life portrays. And then the dead end road at the end of life. My grandmother followed all these roads throughout her life and shared them with me.
Her life began rough as it was. Her mother passed away at a very young age and was raised with her brother by her father only. She told me that she did whatever needed to be done, working hard and a short lived school experience, as she needed to help fend for her family. She would wake up early at 4am and go fishing in the ocean to catch fish and then spend the day walking throughout the village to sell her catch or for trade. and making her father proud of her efforts. She was there during the war and the memories that she endured made her become a more family oriented person, as she watched many families broken. She had to make her road last long enough to eventually make it become better. There would be a much better road for her to follow.
The second part of her life started just as rough as her younger years and she would never think that her roads ahead would smoothen out. She became a single mother of two young children as her better half went back to the Navy and never returned. She began to live her own life and made due with what she had. When her father passed away, she decided to open her own restaurant to be able to stay home with her children. The restaurant did wonderful. This would boost her life. The bumps in the road were starting to lessen. Then my Grandfather came along and swept her off her feet. Though he was a serviceman as well, he held true to her and was there with her and then after three more children. The toughest challenge would be to turn off the smoother road and start another path in the United States.
My grandmother left behind the fresh,rough, road that she started on and also the pitted road that she smoothed out to another road ahead, in another world. This time, life would be on a more settled home. Everyone would then be all together, after years of separation. The road of her life was able to stay smooth and straight. Life became a normal life for my grandparents. Family time, outings, and every day daily life. They were able to enjoy each other for years and years. It all became the ‘norm’ for all of us. Until, obviously the days that came when my grandmother had to face that dreaded dead end road. It seems to be an adequate title. Because it seems that the dead end road is when it all stops. She passed away fulfilled with the paths that she made.
I often think back to the stories that she used to tell me about her life. It was so sad and unfortunate that anyone, especially a person that I adored, had to face it. I admired her toughness and spirit to keep continuing, even though at times she thought that the road would be at a closer end. I have the most respect for her. If some people would just think of the choices that they have and the roads that they can follow, they would have a much more happier life. My grandmother didn’t have the choices back then. She did what she needed to do and created the paths that made her the woman that she was when she died. Even though she started out on that fresh, not quite maintained road, she made sure that it would become smoother for her and especially her family, regardless of what the efforts would have entailed. But I can say that it lightens my heart to know that when she had passed she was at the smooth, straightened road and even though her last stop was at the dead end road, she was proud, as I am, for getting there.
Monday, May 7, 2012
Example Essay-Rewrite
Example Essay
I didn’t grow up with just my mother and father, my Grandmother played a huge role in my life. I call her Lola, which means grandmother in Tagalog. My mother left Philippines to establish herself in the United States when I was a little over two years of age and left me in the care of my Lola. My Dad was also there, but she took over the role of my mother. She taught me a lot about life at a very young age. And even when I reunited with my real mother a few years later, I still kept the closeness to my grandmother as nothing had changed. Growing up, I realized that I carry many of her characteristics.
Lola showed me that hard work always pays off. It may not always show in cash or praises, but the feeling of doing your best for your family made us a tight knit bunch. Family was everything to her. And there wouldn’t be anything that she wouldn’t do to help me or anyone else. Motherly instincts don’t always show in every woman, but she showed me what a wonderful mother would be all about. She was constantly cooking, cleaning, doing laundry sweeping and so on. She was constantly busy! But would stop in her tracks when I would visit. She would make coffee and snacks and we would sit talking for hours. She made me acknowledge that family comes first.
There is nothing that you can’t do! She would say to me. And I know those words from as far as I can remember. She was always a support. Even when I was very young, she would always tell people that I would always say, “I can do that”. Even at the hardest levels. She made me feel that nothing was impossible and to do the best at whatever you do.It was never a push or forced upon me, it just filled me up with pride just knowing that I could do it. And to also know that I made her proud.
The biggest and most important thing that she had taught me, was to be myself . She taught me the presents of human kindness, love and dedication to family, but to also have dedication to myself. “Don’t let anyone tell you who you are. You are who you want to be”. The lesson to accept myself over whatever anyone else thought of me would be especially difficult as a teenager. But I have to say that without her diligence in proving that I was making myself more miserable by not loving myself first. I learned and to this day, find it important to do the same to my children.
I could not ever, in a million years, see my life without my Lola. I thought that I would always have her by my side. That was a comfort that I had to let go in August 2007. At first, I felt that all of the things that she taught me disappeared. I became selfish and mad at the whole world and everyone in it. I lost my mother, grandmother,and best friend. For a short time I hid those characteristics and became miserable once again. About a year went by and I woke up one morning with the feeling of regained spirits. The memories came back and all of the conversations we had came to mind. All I could think of is what she had said to me. So, I learned also that her words were not just words, but my lessons in life. And I hold my head high because of the person that she taught me that I could be.
I didn’t grow up with just my mother and father, my Grandmother played a huge role in my life. I call her Lola, which means grandmother in Tagalog. My mother left Philippines to establish herself in the United States when I was a little over two years of age and left me in the care of my Lola. My Dad was also there, but she took over the role of my mother. She taught me a lot about life at a very young age. And even when I reunited with my real mother a few years later, I still kept the closeness to my grandmother as nothing had changed. Growing up, I realized that I carry many of her characteristics.
Lola showed me that hard work always pays off. It may not always show in cash or praises, but the feeling of doing your best for your family made us a tight knit bunch. Family was everything to her. And there wouldn’t be anything that she wouldn’t do to help me or anyone else. Motherly instincts don’t always show in every woman, but she showed me what a wonderful mother would be all about. She was constantly cooking, cleaning, doing laundry sweeping and so on. She was constantly busy! But would stop in her tracks when I would visit. She would make coffee and snacks and we would sit talking for hours. She made me acknowledge that family comes first.
There is nothing that you can’t do! She would say to me. And I know those words from as far as I can remember. She was always a support. Even when I was very young, she would always tell people that I would always say, “I can do that”. Even at the hardest levels. She made me feel that nothing was impossible and to do the best at whatever you do.It was never a push or forced upon me, it just filled me up with pride just knowing that I could do it. And to also know that I made her proud.
The biggest and most important thing that she had taught me, was to be myself . She taught me the presents of human kindness, love and dedication to family, but to also have dedication to myself. “Don’t let anyone tell you who you are. You are who you want to be”. The lesson to accept myself over whatever anyone else thought of me would be especially difficult as a teenager. But I have to say that without her diligence in proving that I was making myself more miserable by not loving myself first. I learned and to this day, find it important to do the same to my children.
I could not ever, in a million years, see my life without my Lola. I thought that I would always have her by my side. That was a comfort that I had to let go in August 2007. At first, I felt that all of the things that she taught me disappeared. I became selfish and mad at the whole world and everyone in it. I lost my mother, grandmother,and best friend. For a short time I hid those characteristics and became miserable once again. About a year went by and I woke up one morning with the feeling of regained spirits. The memories came back and all of the conversations we had came to mind. All I could think of is what she had said to me. So, I learned also that her words were not just words, but my lessons in life. And I hold my head high because of the person that she taught me that I could be.
Rewrite on Cause Essay-Blogged
Cause Essay
Some days are better than others, but some days just really suck. I just bought a brand new car. A shiny red car that would vibrantly stick out from the rest. Well, so I thought. One of the worse days that I had encountered was on September 7th, 2011. My husband and I were already running late for work. On this morning, we never would have realized how much a few minutes running late would impact our day. Coming up on a corner, we realized that the school buses red lights were flashing. As we slowed down and came to a stop, my husband saw that the tractor trailer behind us was not going to stop. before he could say anything, we were flying across the road in into an embankment. What happened? It was all I could wonder and why I didn’t hear his brakes? Was he sleeping or maybe texting? Maybe we shouldn’t have tried to avoid him and he could have gone around us? Or maybe I should have not slept in that extra ten minutes that day? Any of these could have been the culprit of our disaster.
I understand why the State had enforced a much stricter law on texting and cell phone use. It’s been amazing that our accident rates have dropped from drunk driving, yet increased on texting and driving. With the same outcomes, accidents and deaths. And I understand why truck drivers lack sleep. It’s a money driven business with time based appointments and deliveries. So, there would be lack of sleep, normal sleep anyways. this young driver could have been guilty of either or both. It was early in the morning, so he could have either been up all night or had just woken up from a nap. Drifting back to sleep would be possible. Or maybe he was texting his girlfriend to say ‘Good morning’. Both would had kept his eyes off the road.
I often wondered if we had made the right decision of trying to ‘get out of the way’, when in fact, I felt that we made it easier for him to smash into us. I have asked my husband over and over, but I didn’t want him to feel guilty. I understood his point. Okay, so to be sandwiched between a log truck and another pickup, didn’t sound so pleasant either. And there was no time to really think, it all happened in seconds. We couldn’t have gone the opposite way, as there were children waiting in a van. It was a chance. But I still often think of what we could have done different.
The biggest issue that I had with the whole thing was I had believed it was all my fault. I am not the greatest morning person and that morning I gave myself an extra ten minutes to sleep in. Doesn’t sound like much, but I believed that if I was on schedule that morning, we would not have had to stop for that bus. Therefore, we wouldn’t have been creamed by that log truck. My husband told me that if it was meant to happen, then it still would have happened, somehow or another. I kind of believe that, but I still feel that running the ten minutes later than normal, changed everything that day.
I understand that bad days happen and I have to say that I have had a difficult time trying to make sense of it all. In my mind’s eye, these are what I have come to conclusions on. We never did find out the whole investigation. All that we were told was that the truck had some faulty brakes and they received a summons. I like to call it ‘no brakes’, as there were no tire marks at all. I remembered the huge crashing sound of the truck’s grill and the car. That sound will forever stay with me. And even though it was a horrendous day, we were still able to walk away alive and well.
Some days are better than others, but some days just really suck. I just bought a brand new car. A shiny red car that would vibrantly stick out from the rest. Well, so I thought. One of the worse days that I had encountered was on September 7th, 2011. My husband and I were already running late for work. On this morning, we never would have realized how much a few minutes running late would impact our day. Coming up on a corner, we realized that the school buses red lights were flashing. As we slowed down and came to a stop, my husband saw that the tractor trailer behind us was not going to stop. before he could say anything, we were flying across the road in into an embankment. What happened? It was all I could wonder and why I didn’t hear his brakes? Was he sleeping or maybe texting? Maybe we shouldn’t have tried to avoid him and he could have gone around us? Or maybe I should have not slept in that extra ten minutes that day? Any of these could have been the culprit of our disaster.
I understand why the State had enforced a much stricter law on texting and cell phone use. It’s been amazing that our accident rates have dropped from drunk driving, yet increased on texting and driving. With the same outcomes, accidents and deaths. And I understand why truck drivers lack sleep. It’s a money driven business with time based appointments and deliveries. So, there would be lack of sleep, normal sleep anyways. this young driver could have been guilty of either or both. It was early in the morning, so he could have either been up all night or had just woken up from a nap. Drifting back to sleep would be possible. Or maybe he was texting his girlfriend to say ‘Good morning’. Both would had kept his eyes off the road.
I often wondered if we had made the right decision of trying to ‘get out of the way’, when in fact, I felt that we made it easier for him to smash into us. I have asked my husband over and over, but I didn’t want him to feel guilty. I understood his point. Okay, so to be sandwiched between a log truck and another pickup, didn’t sound so pleasant either. And there was no time to really think, it all happened in seconds. We couldn’t have gone the opposite way, as there were children waiting in a van. It was a chance. But I still often think of what we could have done different.
The biggest issue that I had with the whole thing was I had believed it was all my fault. I am not the greatest morning person and that morning I gave myself an extra ten minutes to sleep in. Doesn’t sound like much, but I believed that if I was on schedule that morning, we would not have had to stop for that bus. Therefore, we wouldn’t have been creamed by that log truck. My husband told me that if it was meant to happen, then it still would have happened, somehow or another. I kind of believe that, but I still feel that running the ten minutes later than normal, changed everything that day.
I understand that bad days happen and I have to say that I have had a difficult time trying to make sense of it all. In my mind’s eye, these are what I have come to conclusions on. We never did find out the whole investigation. All that we were told was that the truck had some faulty brakes and they received a summons. I like to call it ‘no brakes’, as there were no tire marks at all. I remembered the huge crashing sound of the truck’s grill and the car. That sound will forever stay with me. And even though it was a horrendous day, we were still able to walk away alive and well.
Friday, May 4, 2012
Effect Essay #8
Growing up in a tight knit family, all I wanted to be was a wife and a mom. I saw what my parent s had and I wanted to have a life and a relationship as good as theirs had been. They were married very young, 16 and 18 years of age. So, I was bound and determined that at 18, I was more matured then they were to get married and start a family. Little did I know that being married at a young age had been a real eye-opener for me. The effects of young love was not what I had forseen it to be.
Within the year we were married, we had our first child, Tylor. At 19, I really had no idea about babies, just that I was the mom and I needed to take care of him. Needless to say, Ty helped me mature even quicker. The late nights were no longer for partying and having a good time. It was for midnight feedings and diaper changes. At that time I did not see the fun in it. My daily schedule revolved around the baby. There was no more me time anymore. Two years go by and another child came along, daughter Alexandria. Both of my hands were full now. And I had no other idea of what to do with myself, except be a stay at home mom. And that would often drive me crazy!
Work was not an option for me, I couldn't stay away from my babies. I tried to work opposite shifts from their father, but we just couldn't make it work. He wanted his time for him to do things with his friends and I had to work and find childcare. Childcare was just taking my whole paycheck, so why bother. In a one income household, we needed to be smart with our money, but young and foolish showed us that we had to be at the same level as other people. Cars, a house mortgage, nice clothes, kids toys, whatever we wanted and needed. Apparently, we did not take accountability for bills. Everything was behind on payment and the finger was being pointed at me. Needless to say, the relationship fell behind as well. We were not mature enough to handle all the stressors at once.
The biggest lesson that I had learned about the mistakes we had made, was the immense lack of communication. That and the capacity to understand. I had grown to resent my other half. How did he find time to do what he wanted to do and had no sympathy of leaving the kids and I at home? It got to the point that I would have to beg him to spend time with me and the kids. He was not the father that I had planned for my children, they deserved better than this. But instead of trying to sit and discuss the issues, I would just be spiteful and try to hurt him as he had done to me. Almost like what little kids do to each other. I devoted all of my time to my children and was never even able to catch up with any friends. I was the only one with children, so I wasn't able to enjoy the same freedom.
I often wonder how my parents lasted this long. Maybe you just have to have it in you to want to do it. Which I initially thought I had in me. I am thankful for being able to have my children. Of course that I would never take back. They were the best result of a failed marriage. So, I strongly encourage my children to do what they feel they should do for themselves first. To take things slow and to be more open. Obviously, the children were there to see what was happening around them, but was very young at the time. But I often think that the divorce has also effected their thoughts on marriage, too. Though I have tried very hard to instill in them the areas that I had lacked in at their age. And hope that they do not have to go through a relationship as I did.
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Process Essay-Tools
Throughout life I have learned that one of the most valuable tools that a person has is their hands. Just imagine what your hands do for you in every stage of life. It's almost something that is not thought of in depth, but taken for grantide. The every move and touch that a person delivers or feels has a meaning, even though it isn't thought of at the time, but how it shows it's importance growing up.
As a infant, a child clings to his/her mother. The touch of a baby's hands or fingers always melts a parent's heart away. Small and fragile, but to a parent it creates a huge memorable impact. Though to the baby holding their parents hand or simply just a finger, the comfort of being secure helps coddle them to sleep. Or to ease them at feeding time.What an amazing feeling that a simple touch creates and the feeling that gets carried along as we age.
Growing up and raising a family, there is alot of work that needs to be done. As a mother, there seems to be endless amounts of duties that gets done on a daily basis. To the point that the brain gets tired, but the hands keep going. Changing diapers, giving baths, washing dishes, folding clothes, sweeping the floor and so on and so forth. Daily relentless chores never eases up. On the occasional down time, tending to the flowers and garden calms the nerves, yet beautifies the yard. Mom's hands always teach their children what hard work accomplishes.
Watching an elderly couple cup each other's faces with their hands and smile at each other show that they touch with their feelings. Love seems to deepen with age. To be at an older age and later in life, the use of their hands become much more important. Independence is vital to them. To hold a cane, a walker, to be able to drive, mobility is a must. But to look at the wrinkles on their hands show the long, hardworking life they had. And to hold a brand new grandchild, creates another huge impact. The fact that the family line will be kept handed down.
Even though we often think of our hands as just objects that do the continuous daily functions, they do serve as other tools. I believe the most important tools. The hold that says "You are safe". The hand in hand contact that says "I love you". The fingers that hold that ring that says, "Will you marry me?" It's amazing that in the beginning of life, the first touch sends immense feelings of love and happiness, but yet in the end of life, the last touch creates such sadness. The power of that one special touch or the results of what the hands can accomplish can be considered the best and most wonderful tool.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Complete Process Essay
How is a full time working mother of three teenagers, two dogs and a husband, find time in a single day to do everything? I know that I am not the only person to survive in this type of lifestyle, but this is my paper, not theirs. It seems that I was in the same routine day in and day out. And it gets to a point of just doing things you have to do, sometimes without thinking of doing it. At times, I have to sit back and just think of the things I do that take up my morning, day and night. Everyday events that create my life.
It all starts at 4:30a.m. every morning, Monday through Friday that is. My husband and I take turns getting up first and showering, letting the other person sleep for a few more minutes. The morning news gets turned on and refreshes us on the happenings of the day before, but most impotantly what the weather will be like that day. Then it's downstairs to turn on the coffee maker and let the girls out in the backyard for their morning break. Toys, ruffled blankets, kibble on the floor, damn that Bailey dog. She's worse that picking up after the kids. Kids, oh yeah, their shoes are scattered amongst the kitchen door, having to kick them out of the way to open it. As well, as picking up their dirty socks! KIDS! While the coffee cooks, another load of laundry gets thrown in the wash. The girls are back in bringing in paw marks and dirt. The broom is out again. Good girls, treats and medicine (with peanut butter of course). Grabbing the lunch bag, the coffee cups and backpacks, we are out the door at 6:20a.m.
Driving the hour and fifteen minute drive to work gives us time to discuss our schedules for the day. This has to work out in order for us to have lunch together. Then it's what's going on at school with the kids, teacher meetings, softball and baseball games, who needs a ride here and there and what time do we need to leave work. This all needs to be clear before the day starts or else, forget it, it's forgotten. Pulling up the driveway at work, I have my whole day planned out, so I think. Patient medications, insurance coverage, audits, inspections, meetings with Providers and Social Workers, phone calls, phone calls and more phone calls! I'm tired of just thinking of it and I haven't even punched in yet! The phone calls starts and it isn't even 8:00a.m yet. I swear they watch us walking to the office. Unit Nurses always have an emergency. It doesn't matter what it is. Hell they call Pharmacy to help them fix their fax machines! So, the day starts off wonderfully! Then it all becomes a blur, just focusing on 4:30p.m to roll around.
Yay! The end of the day has come. The ride home contains the event sof our day. This is a great way to seperate yourself from work to homelife. Depending if there are any errands to do after work, it's home at about 6:00p.m. Then it's right to cooking supper, trying to get it on the table before 7:00p.m. In between, there are more clothes to wash and fold, the floors need vacuuming. I try to watch the evening news on my passing by the livingroom, but I just catch up in the morning. Supper done, kids are fed and happy, but where's the dessert? Homemade brownies will have to wait for the weekend, so it's Duncan Haines tonight. Dishes are soaking while the brownie mix is being made. Throw them into the oven and it's back to the sink. Dishes done and so is the dessert. So much for the cleaned dishes! What do I do? It's Idol night! Dishes will wait for morning.
It's 8:00p.m., family time on Wednesday. I guess I am lucky that the kids still want to have family time.
Some days are better than others. And some days offer more time than others. But I do not realize where I am in the time of the day, until I can sit down and enjoy a glass of wine. Whether it is at 7:00p.m. or a quick sip before 9:00p.m. Though, I also have a wonderful husband that helps me with the every day duties in our household. He is my sole support in my life. The days that he sees that I am having a tough time, he kicks in. Sometimes, we find ourselves fighting over who is going to do dishes. "I want to do them!" "No, it's my turn!" He understands when I need an extra minute to breathe or just to relax and sit down. "Will you just relax! Go in the other room and watch some t.v. and put your feet up." Or my favorite, "I'll do the chores tonight, so you can do your homework." Sometimes on the weekends I also get to sleep in. I am sure that everyone has busy days throughout their life, but I can truly say that it is all worth it at the end of every day.
It all starts at 4:30a.m. every morning, Monday through Friday that is. My husband and I take turns getting up first and showering, letting the other person sleep for a few more minutes. The morning news gets turned on and refreshes us on the happenings of the day before, but most impotantly what the weather will be like that day. Then it's downstairs to turn on the coffee maker and let the girls out in the backyard for their morning break. Toys, ruffled blankets, kibble on the floor, damn that Bailey dog. She's worse that picking up after the kids. Kids, oh yeah, their shoes are scattered amongst the kitchen door, having to kick them out of the way to open it. As well, as picking up their dirty socks! KIDS! While the coffee cooks, another load of laundry gets thrown in the wash. The girls are back in bringing in paw marks and dirt. The broom is out again. Good girls, treats and medicine (with peanut butter of course). Grabbing the lunch bag, the coffee cups and backpacks, we are out the door at 6:20a.m.
Driving the hour and fifteen minute drive to work gives us time to discuss our schedules for the day. This has to work out in order for us to have lunch together. Then it's what's going on at school with the kids, teacher meetings, softball and baseball games, who needs a ride here and there and what time do we need to leave work. This all needs to be clear before the day starts or else, forget it, it's forgotten. Pulling up the driveway at work, I have my whole day planned out, so I think. Patient medications, insurance coverage, audits, inspections, meetings with Providers and Social Workers, phone calls, phone calls and more phone calls! I'm tired of just thinking of it and I haven't even punched in yet! The phone calls starts and it isn't even 8:00a.m yet. I swear they watch us walking to the office. Unit Nurses always have an emergency. It doesn't matter what it is. Hell they call Pharmacy to help them fix their fax machines! So, the day starts off wonderfully! Then it all becomes a blur, just focusing on 4:30p.m to roll around.
Yay! The end of the day has come. The ride home contains the event sof our day. This is a great way to seperate yourself from work to homelife. Depending if there are any errands to do after work, it's home at about 6:00p.m. Then it's right to cooking supper, trying to get it on the table before 7:00p.m. In between, there are more clothes to wash and fold, the floors need vacuuming. I try to watch the evening news on my passing by the livingroom, but I just catch up in the morning. Supper done, kids are fed and happy, but where's the dessert? Homemade brownies will have to wait for the weekend, so it's Duncan Haines tonight. Dishes are soaking while the brownie mix is being made. Throw them into the oven and it's back to the sink. Dishes done and so is the dessert. So much for the cleaned dishes! What do I do? It's Idol night! Dishes will wait for morning.
It's 8:00p.m., family time on Wednesday. I guess I am lucky that the kids still want to have family time.
Some days are better than others. And some days offer more time than others. But I do not realize where I am in the time of the day, until I can sit down and enjoy a glass of wine. Whether it is at 7:00p.m. or a quick sip before 9:00p.m. Though, I also have a wonderful husband that helps me with the every day duties in our household. He is my sole support in my life. The days that he sees that I am having a tough time, he kicks in. Sometimes, we find ourselves fighting over who is going to do dishes. "I want to do them!" "No, it's my turn!" He understands when I need an extra minute to breathe or just to relax and sit down. "Will you just relax! Go in the other room and watch some t.v. and put your feet up." Or my favorite, "I'll do the chores tonight, so you can do your homework." Sometimes on the weekends I also get to sleep in. I am sure that everyone has busy days throughout their life, but I can truly say that it is all worth it at the end of every day.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Example Essay Intro Graf
How does a full time working mother of three teeneagers, two dogs and a husband, find time in a single day to do everything? I know that I am not the only person to survive in this type of lifestyle, but this is my paper, not theirs. It seems that I am in the same routine day in and day out. And then get to a point of just doing things you have to do, without even thinking of doing it. So, closing my eyes, I sit back and think of my day. Sometimes, we have to sit back and just think of the things we do that take up our day morning day, and night. These are the every day events that happens in my life.
Reaction to Example Essay Graf#19
Reading through the several different essays on Example essays, my brain can't help, but to think it seems sort of like a cause essay. Even though we are to place the example essay into what it seems like steps to me, isn't it somilar to explaining the cause essay? We pick a topic and begin by explaining how the topic relates to us in some sort of feelings, memories, importance, etc. The we take the three different ways of explaining the topic, with the ending as how or why the topic was most memorable to us. Am I wrong to think this way or is it a similar type of approach for all essays? Of course I say this, but I have to rewrite my cause essay, because I thought too much into the subject and format. So, maybe I shouldn't think of comparing essays, so I don't confuse my self any more. I have also realized that it does not take a huge paragraph to explain what it is you are trying to say.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Complete Contrast Essay
There has only been two places in my life that I have considered home. Even though they are on the opposite sides of the world. They have both held a special place in my heart. My grandfather was a retired Navy Chief and wanted to settle back to his native hometown in Maine. So, my Grandmother, I and the rest of our family left the comfort of our home in the Philippines for a new life. I was only five when we left, but I have held onto many memories. And I have also had many other fond memories growing up in our new life. Now thirtyfive years later, I have learned to appreciate these memories. Though, I can still remember the culture shock as a child. The enviornment, society and the new school system.
As a adult, I can still remember the smell of the salted sea air and the feel of the warm tropical breeze. My Great Aunt lived right by the beach front, so I remember running around the beach when I would visit her. The fine sand would just seem to melt through your toes, as the feeling of warmth surrounded your feet. I can remember the palm trees swaying in the breeze and the ocean waves reaching out to grab my feet. And when the tides would go low, you could see the jellyfish stuck to the cliffs.
I also felt a sense of excitement when I saw my first snowfall. Wow, it was amazing and so pretty to watch flow from the sky. Yet, there was no going out barefoot. Infact, it would be layered socks and insulated boots. Almost to a point that I couldn't feel my feet anymore. But I would learn that later after being outside too long. No running freely, but trudging in the depths of snow. My hands would turn numb, even with mittens over gloves. The breeze was cold and my cheeks would start to feel stiff and burn from the cold. Though, my first snowman was my first masterpiece.
When I was very little, my grandmother's neighbors would ask to come over to see the little white baby. White baby I asked? Apparently, I inherited the American blood of my grandfather. Everyone else around me was tanned skinned, dark haired and dark eyed. Not me. Light brown hair, blue eyes and the fairest of skin, like a very pale olive. Unknown women would just run over to smile and talk to me. My grandmother would say that I was some sort of attraction. When I came to Maine at five years of age, I didn't know what to expect. My grandfather bought a house in Derby Maine, that's right beside Milo. I soon realized that people were not quite sure about the new Asian family in the neighborhood. People were quite around us and we just mingled amongst each other, as well. When we would go shopping, I stayed very close to my mother, as other women would just stare down at me. I didn't feel very much like an attraction anymore. Until the fall came.
We moved to Maine in the summer of 1976 and actually I didn't turn five until that fall. Also that fall, school started. Talk about feeling different. Back in the Philippines, my greandmother wanted to make sure that I was going to be a well rounded person. She had enlisted me in two different schools at threee and a half years old until I had left the country. I went to a "public school", where we were taught to speak both Tagalog and English. But my grandmother had also decided to enroll me in Chinese school. So, three languages spoken before I was even four years of age! So, when I started kindergarten, the teachers were very suprised. But even though, I was not allowed to speak anything else, but English. They didn't want the other children to look at me as different. I think it was too late for that. Then throughout the years, English would become my only language, that is until I took French class in High School.
Even though there were huge differences in the two places that I had lived in, they both played a big part of my life. I had the priveledge of knowing a wonderful island and all the memories that I still hold from there. But yet I have had many lifelong memories growing up and living in Maine most of my life. The Philippines as a child was a much different life all together. But growing up in Maine has also been an adventure and for the most part, I would not change anything. Times have also changed. People, I believe, are more accepting of others these days and the school system are far more interested in foreign students now than ever. But honestly, I could still trade in the Maine winters for a walk on the beach and the warm ocean breeze of the Philippines.
As a adult, I can still remember the smell of the salted sea air and the feel of the warm tropical breeze. My Great Aunt lived right by the beach front, so I remember running around the beach when I would visit her. The fine sand would just seem to melt through your toes, as the feeling of warmth surrounded your feet. I can remember the palm trees swaying in the breeze and the ocean waves reaching out to grab my feet. And when the tides would go low, you could see the jellyfish stuck to the cliffs.
I also felt a sense of excitement when I saw my first snowfall. Wow, it was amazing and so pretty to watch flow from the sky. Yet, there was no going out barefoot. Infact, it would be layered socks and insulated boots. Almost to a point that I couldn't feel my feet anymore. But I would learn that later after being outside too long. No running freely, but trudging in the depths of snow. My hands would turn numb, even with mittens over gloves. The breeze was cold and my cheeks would start to feel stiff and burn from the cold. Though, my first snowman was my first masterpiece.
When I was very little, my grandmother's neighbors would ask to come over to see the little white baby. White baby I asked? Apparently, I inherited the American blood of my grandfather. Everyone else around me was tanned skinned, dark haired and dark eyed. Not me. Light brown hair, blue eyes and the fairest of skin, like a very pale olive. Unknown women would just run over to smile and talk to me. My grandmother would say that I was some sort of attraction. When I came to Maine at five years of age, I didn't know what to expect. My grandfather bought a house in Derby Maine, that's right beside Milo. I soon realized that people were not quite sure about the new Asian family in the neighborhood. People were quite around us and we just mingled amongst each other, as well. When we would go shopping, I stayed very close to my mother, as other women would just stare down at me. I didn't feel very much like an attraction anymore. Until the fall came.
We moved to Maine in the summer of 1976 and actually I didn't turn five until that fall. Also that fall, school started. Talk about feeling different. Back in the Philippines, my greandmother wanted to make sure that I was going to be a well rounded person. She had enlisted me in two different schools at threee and a half years old until I had left the country. I went to a "public school", where we were taught to speak both Tagalog and English. But my grandmother had also decided to enroll me in Chinese school. So, three languages spoken before I was even four years of age! So, when I started kindergarten, the teachers were very suprised. But even though, I was not allowed to speak anything else, but English. They didn't want the other children to look at me as different. I think it was too late for that. Then throughout the years, English would become my only language, that is until I took French class in High School.
Even though there were huge differences in the two places that I had lived in, they both played a big part of my life. I had the priveledge of knowing a wonderful island and all the memories that I still hold from there. But yet I have had many lifelong memories growing up and living in Maine most of my life. The Philippines as a child was a much different life all together. But growing up in Maine has also been an adventure and for the most part, I would not change anything. Times have also changed. People, I believe, are more accepting of others these days and the school system are far more interested in foreign students now than ever. But honestly, I could still trade in the Maine winters for a walk on the beach and the warm ocean breeze of the Philippines.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Contrast Essay Part #2
Maine winters have it's ups and it's downs. I guess it depends if you are a "snow lover' or not. I am not. Then again, the hot climate of the Philippines does not always work for some people's interest. But that, I can live with. Some people are truly happy when it snows, especially the school kids. While my thoughts go to "How much snow do I have to shovel in the morning?". However, the sands of the beaches seem to find whatever crevace of your body to stick to, as well. Frozen fingers and toes, who would enjoy that? But instead covering your toes with the warm sand. I don't understand how difficult this is to choose. I was made to live in the hot tropics, but I have been in Maine most of my life, 36 out of the 40 years. Shouldn't I be used to the Maine winters by now? Some winters are better than others, as also the monsoon season that hits the Philippines.Not sure what would be better, snow or water? And isn't it the same? I would have had to endure the flooded schools, as we still sit on our desks for classes. Maine winters, you often get breaks on "snow days". In fact they are calculated in the school calendar! But however the seasons go, there were always other issues that I had to overcome being placed in the opposite place of where I was born.
Monday, March 19, 2012
isearch Progress Report-Graf#18
My isearch had not started out the way that I had planned. So, I changed my topic after submitting my previous three sections. Needless to say, I had alot of soulsearching and found something that was more important to me, so I turned back and rewrote all three sections to reflect on my new topic. I wanted to know and learn more about my stepson ?????. I became part of his life as he was turning into a young adult and I was not there through his childhood dealing with Aspergers. So, I wanted to make my report, not just a learning process for me to understand about his diagnosis, but I also wanted it to become a 'getting to know one another' type situation, as I have asked for his collaboration with my isearch. From picking his alias name to answering my list of personal questions. I can find all sorts of information on-line. Google has plenty of research information. And I have read several articles of how Aspergers was looked at in the past and the possible outcome in the future. But I wanted to make my isearch more on the personal side. I have the most respect for ???? for being brave and honest with me. And most of all not feeling as a target, but just knowing that his step-mom was wanting to understand him better. So, I think that I am going to place a possible contrast of how ???? sees and handles his diagnosis, compared to how the researchers/ the public describes how it should be handled and their outlook.
** ???? is because he has not chosen his name yet. When he does, I will edit and add it in.
** ???? is because he has not chosen his name yet. When he does, I will edit and add it in.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Classification Essay
It's funny how people look at different breeds of dogs and immediately see the sterotypical view of the animal. Apparently, this is how most people choose their pets. But I have had three types of dogs throughout my life that had been technically looked at as being so different and catagorized. I had a poodle, a rich person's dog? Not in my case. I also had a golden retriever, the loving family dog and an American Staffordshire Terrier, one of the most feared dogs. Yet some people do not see that these three different dogs all share common traits. If they would look past the obvious, they would see that they are all used for hunting, protection and as a valued family member.
My little black poodle Onyx was the cutest little dog. But he was a great sniffer dog, too. I couldn't hide anywhere that he couldn't find me. Some poodles would be trained to find valuable truffles. Now that's a nose worth money! I should have thought of that! I guess the name retriever speaks for itself. Bruiser, my golden retriever loved to chase after birds. It didn't matter what type. He just loved to watch them fly and when they landed off he went! Of course, it was very much in his blood. And then, there would be my American Staffordshire Terrier, Piper. Also known as a pittbull. She is always very alert and likes to track down "her prey", as we like to call it. Her breed were also called 'catch dogs'. They would track down and corner their prey, then they would alert their owners. Imagine having to corner a wild boar. No wonder they are so tough!
Onyx was a smaller dog, and he had what they call "little man syndrome". He didn't care how big or mean anything else was, he was in front of it. He wasn't big enough to look out the window either, but he would always tell us when there was something or someone outside. Active and alert, yes he was! Now, with Bruiser, he was not an ordinary retriever. Retrievers are more laid back and they usually shy away from strangers. However, Bruiser, hence the name, was an bigger than normal retriever, with a deep low bark. So, even with his warm fuzzy appearance, people would stop in their tracks. Now Piper's appearance just says 'you're not getting in the house'. And that is actually the truth. She is always aware of her surroundings and if they got too close for her comfort, there would be a face plastered at the window that says, "Stay away!" Apparently, she would always get her point across.
For the most part, people generally just want a loving dog, regardless of the breed. Onyx was very active and playful, great for kids to run around the backyard with. He was also smart as a whip, as poodles are and we'd get him to do some funny little tricks. But I loved how he would keep my feet warm. Bruiser was just so warm and fuzzy and oh so friendly. He could brighten your day with a snuggle or a big sloppy kiss. Retrievers are truly a loving dog, always trying to make you happy. Though he would take up most of the bed! Piper has been through alot with me. The ups and downs and she would always stay at my side, a true best friend . She is more human to me than most people are, but that is because she knows me. She is just like one of my children.
So, there you have it. I have had the priveledge to own three differnt types of dogs. Even though physically and stereotypically different, they were all very similar. Each of them shared the same traits and qualites, regardless of the breed, but just showed it in different ways. People need to know that poodles were not to be considered a type of accessory, retrievers are not just a Christmas card portrait and pittbulls are not all vicious attackers. They need to stop looking at these dogs this way. They were all smart, loving dogs and played a huge part of the family. They did not just serve a purpose as a pet, but they also served a purpose to their breed.
My little black poodle Onyx was the cutest little dog. But he was a great sniffer dog, too. I couldn't hide anywhere that he couldn't find me. Some poodles would be trained to find valuable truffles. Now that's a nose worth money! I should have thought of that! I guess the name retriever speaks for itself. Bruiser, my golden retriever loved to chase after birds. It didn't matter what type. He just loved to watch them fly and when they landed off he went! Of course, it was very much in his blood. And then, there would be my American Staffordshire Terrier, Piper. Also known as a pittbull. She is always very alert and likes to track down "her prey", as we like to call it. Her breed were also called 'catch dogs'. They would track down and corner their prey, then they would alert their owners. Imagine having to corner a wild boar. No wonder they are so tough!
Onyx was a smaller dog, and he had what they call "little man syndrome". He didn't care how big or mean anything else was, he was in front of it. He wasn't big enough to look out the window either, but he would always tell us when there was something or someone outside. Active and alert, yes he was! Now, with Bruiser, he was not an ordinary retriever. Retrievers are more laid back and they usually shy away from strangers. However, Bruiser, hence the name, was an bigger than normal retriever, with a deep low bark. So, even with his warm fuzzy appearance, people would stop in their tracks. Now Piper's appearance just says 'you're not getting in the house'. And that is actually the truth. She is always aware of her surroundings and if they got too close for her comfort, there would be a face plastered at the window that says, "Stay away!" Apparently, she would always get her point across.
For the most part, people generally just want a loving dog, regardless of the breed. Onyx was very active and playful, great for kids to run around the backyard with. He was also smart as a whip, as poodles are and we'd get him to do some funny little tricks. But I loved how he would keep my feet warm. Bruiser was just so warm and fuzzy and oh so friendly. He could brighten your day with a snuggle or a big sloppy kiss. Retrievers are truly a loving dog, always trying to make you happy. Though he would take up most of the bed! Piper has been through alot with me. The ups and downs and she would always stay at my side, a true best friend . She is more human to me than most people are, but that is because she knows me. She is just like one of my children.
So, there you have it. I have had the priveledge to own three differnt types of dogs. Even though physically and stereotypically different, they were all very similar. Each of them shared the same traits and qualites, regardless of the breed, but just showed it in different ways. People need to know that poodles were not to be considered a type of accessory, retrievers are not just a Christmas card portrait and pittbulls are not all vicious attackers. They need to stop looking at these dogs this way. They were all smart, loving dogs and played a huge part of the family. They did not just serve a purpose as a pet, but they also served a purpose to their breed.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Contrast Essay Intro#2
Sitting here typing, I am looking out my diningroom window staring at the snow. Snow, as beautiful as it can make the brown grass look, I dred seeing it every single year. Spring and summer do not last long enough, yet the winters seem to stay around to what feels like forever. Boots and jackets to prep for shoveling and don't forget the gloves! For God's sake, your fingers depend on them for warm circulation. Argghhh, who wants to endure winter in Maine! So, I close my eyes and remember the days of the tropics. Yes, I may have been young back then, but I still remember the feel of the warm ocean breeze of the Philippine islands. Shorts and teeshirts on any given day and you can always feel the warmth of the sand between your toes. Where was I truely meant to be?
Contrast Essay Intro#1
People often ask me, "You're not from around here, are you?" And I find my self thinking, 'Gee, wonder why they ask!' Apparently living in Maine and being oriental just does not make semse to some people. I often wonder that myself. Why the hell am I here? How did I go from the beautiful, warm tropics of the Philippines to the minus thirty below zero, snow covered roads of Maine? Teeshirt and shorts 24/7 to snowgear and shovles, which seem like forever! Don't get me wrong, each place has it's peaks, but which place feels best for me.
Outro to Classification Essay
I can honestly say that no one should go through life and not experience the love and respect of man's best friend. It is amazing how a furry four legged creature, that talks to you in their own tongue, can make you feel loved and secured on your bad days. Or how their makeshift smile, as their tongues hang and drool, can just make you smile back. And let's not forget they are the best listener of your worries and problems. Of course there are the daily feedings, occasional treats and playdates at the park. But really no different than having children. Of course, to most, their "man's best friend" are their children. Though there are all different, just like people.
Classification Essay Intro#2
They say that a dog is man's best friend. They never judge you for who you are or what you have done. I also feel the same way about them. Every dog that I had impacted my life. I had adopted a siberian husky from the local Veterinarian's office. He was surrendered by his previous owners due to the bad habits of chasing deer. He was so sweet and loving and had a great sense of humor. I couldn't say no to his beautiful blue eyes. I also had adopted a very young puppy from a county pound. Looked to be a little black lab. I felt so sorry for him to be caged up, so he came home with me. The next day I found out that he was infected with parvo. We had quite the ordeal with this dog. It's funny when people say that a dog takes after their owner. My red brindle pittbull was just a little pup when I realized that her personality was just like mine. It wasn't the because we shared the same "bad rep", but I felt like we understood each other from the beginning. So far in my life, I have been lucky to have had my "man's best friend" by my side. I wouldn't know what it would have been like without them, nor would I want to. As they have each taught me a different outlook of life.
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Intro-Classification Essay#1
How does a person choose what type of dog they would pick for a pet. They say that the type of dog reflects on the type of person it belongs to. Or is it, the dog starts looking like the owner? You have the small petite poodles. The ones you see all the rich folk carrying around like they were a purse. Pet or accesory, I often wonder. The ever so popular labrador retriever. Every family with children should have one. Nothing say a Christmas card, then having the family picture by the fireplace with good ole Rex by their feet. And who can forget the famous 'rip your face off if you even look at me' pitt-bull. Not everyone's favorite choice, by all means. But can hold some piece of mind for protection. Maybe it all depends on a person's stage in life, alone, with children and then finding something that will take place after the children leave home.
Graf#16
Looking at the samples for the classification essays, they look to be very fun and interesting to do. They capture different views and stories. It looks to be particular steps of a story, almost like the pourage situation in Goldilocks and the Three Bears. Each section has it's own story and life's learned experiences. The 'types' of the guys that the poor girl dated was so facinating, yet very amusing. I believe that there are many girls that have gone through the same trials and disappointments as she did, but she wrote it with a very different outlook of her situation. Instead of just calling them what they really were in a more unpleasant discription, she played with the idea of them being in a Mother Goose's rhyme. It was a nice twist of explaining how the guys she dated really were. I especially enjoyed how she incorporated the 'sugar and spice' bit to her story. Even with the other essays, they were very good in explaining their thoughts in the different types of 'whatever' subject they wanted to write about. I look forward to working on this essay, as I feel it has much room for creativity.
Graf #15-Meta Graf
What to write about...hmmmmm. Sometimes, I think to much into a subject and then my brain goes blank. How hard is it to pick a subject anyways. Well, I can tell you that I have a paper and pen on my bedstand in case of those late night thoughts. It may sound corny, but it does help. Sometimes, after I have written my grafs, I still have "after thoughts". But when I go in to revise it, Damn! Jon has already been in there. I have to say that I work with alot of my memories and feelings, trying to distinguish the reasons of why or how I feel about something. It brings out alot of emotions in me and it helps bring out some of the words and discriptions. Maybe it's the "older, sappier" me. The most recent activities in my life had made it easier to write about, too. That's why I decided to write about something that I had been having issues with. Not that I look out to make people think that I am depressed, but I thought that if I wrote them down I could realize something that I already knew. You know when you think quietly to yourself about something, it seems or sounds different then when you read it or write it down. Like a movie verses a book. In a sense, it was answering my own question or at least clarifying them.
Complete Cause Essay #1
Some days are better than others and some days really just suck! I often wonder if it's that old saying "Carma is a bitch", but come on, i've been good for a long time now. It's almost an instant reaction when waking up every morning, "Wonder what the hell can happen today?" Not that I haven't tried to be optimistic about having a good day, but sometimes I wonder if I think of it too much, then that's when shit hits the fan. I haven't always been this way. In fact, not too long ago, it seemed that nothing could bring my day down. I was almost sickeningly delighted every day. So, why did I change my outlook of how my day could be? Sometimes I wonder if it seems like having so many disasterous days happen one after another, it became somewhat of a habit. Maybe it's the ill feeling I have daily about possibly putting my dog to sleep or the shock of having to take my husband to the emergency room with chest pains. Though I feel that my thoughts have changed drastically after we nearly died in that unforgettable accident. Not all of these things would happen every day, but they are the ones that have surely kept me on my toes.
Piper is my beautiful red nosed pitt-bull. She may look mean and tough, which she can be, but she has been my best friend for ten years now. No matter what, I could trust that she would be waiting at the door for me to get home and she would snuggle with me at my worse days. She would look at me with those amber colored eyes and I knew that she was saying, "It will be okay." So, when the thought of having to put her down came to mind, all I could think about was all the times she had comforted me, why would this be my solution for her? She had been tested for several things and all the vet could say is that he thought it must be a gall bladder issue. Maybe to some it doesn't seem like a huge issue, but how about having to clean dog puke up every day and then trying to find the best way for her to take their meds, just so she can throw it up again. Strict diet and no fatty foods. Again some days are better than others with her, but I often wonder how she feels and if this will get better for her. And to what extreme could I afford to keep her as healthy as possible. But for now every day when I come home, it's a guessing game as to if there is a pile to pick up and where did she put it this time?
As I sat at my workdesk, doing my everyday paperwork, I get a phonecall from my husband and in a soft, quiet voice I hear him say, "I think I need to go to the e.r." That instant feeling of shock hit me. "What? What's wrong?" And as I am asking him, the whole cenario of the trip to the hospital was already in play, in my head. "I don't know, but my chest doesn't feel right and my pulse is low." Wait a second, his heart? This would be the worse feeling of panic that I had felt. "Okay, okay. I am on my way!" Thank God he only worked down the road from me! In the short distance to the hospital, it felt like the trip took longer. And how about the round about entrance to the emergency room at Eastern Maine?! Could they change the entrance area again? The wait in the emergency room was mind wrecking, didn't they hear him say that he was having chest pains? Finally, in the exam room and hooked to monitors, I sat and waited, as I watched the staff do labwork and assesments. When the doctor said the words, "We are admitting you", I knew that it was serious. Even though it took forever to get transferred in the cardiac, I never realized the time. When the time came and Nurse Wrachet kicked me out of the room, it was sweet dreams for me in the stiff chairs of the family room. Day two was full of tests, as well as testing patience. And at the end, the words that everyone just loves hearing, "We don't know what is wrong with you." What the hell does that mean? That means, 'you're on your own'! Follow ups with the PCP and the Cardiologist are ongoing events. Just to keep us wondering if this could happen again.
The day was overcast, but dry. Travel weather at it's best, no sun in your eyes and nothing to keep the wipers going. So, how could this day of travel be bad? It became the worse day of uncertainties, as we drove around the bend. We could see the flashing red lights of the well known yellow bus, so we had slowed down and stopped behind a small blue pick-up. Then surprisingly, my husband started to excel and go around the pick-up. "What the hell was wrong with him, can't he see the damn lights?!" I started to panic because of the bus, but the kids stayed in their driveway. Did they see what was going to happen? "Honey! What are you doing?" I turned to look at him and I saw him looking in the rearview mirror. "He's not going to stop!" As I started to say, "What do you mean?", I could see the huge metal grill of the truck and the stack of logs that weighed it down. This was it! We are dead! This was where the real panic kicked in. "Oh my God!" But I couldn't finish my words, as the jolt of the impact clamped my mouth shut. All I thought about was the pile of logs crushing us or the log truck driving over us. The impact broke the driver's seat, but my husband pulled himself up in time to turn the wheel. The telephone pole was going to be the next victim! They say that your life flashes before your eyes at times like these. All I was looking for were those damn logs! As we came to a slow stop, we were allowed to breath. Did we survive for a particular reason? Or was this just another sick way of ruining a good day?
It is always unfortunate to have a bad day because who plots out their day to have one? It was definately not something I wanted to do. I just didn't know how to stop thinking that something bad would always happen. It's almost like if I do plan ahead that something bad happens and it doesn't, it makes it a good day. Kind of backwards though, right? I have to start thinking that the day is going to start good. Everyone has had some traumatic event in their lives that totally change their outlook, but I guess it depends how they decide to handle it. Handling it is a must. So, even though my dog isn't at her peak anymore and I may have to clean her messes when I get home, I still have her to look at me and say the day will be okay. My husband, my other best friend, will always be on my mind for concerns. Isn't that how it's supposed to be anyways? Apparently, that is what happens when you love someone, you worry and care about them consistantly. You are there for them regardless. And even though I suffer from PTSD and can not stand the sight of red lights and school buses, I am very thankful every day that we survived that day. I have to believe that things happen for a reason, so why walk on eggshells trying to avoid it? Even though there were those bad days, it shouldn't mean that it is what life is all about. I have to think that bad days can come and go, but I will always be here to see another day.
Piper is my beautiful red nosed pitt-bull. She may look mean and tough, which she can be, but she has been my best friend for ten years now. No matter what, I could trust that she would be waiting at the door for me to get home and she would snuggle with me at my worse days. She would look at me with those amber colored eyes and I knew that she was saying, "It will be okay." So, when the thought of having to put her down came to mind, all I could think about was all the times she had comforted me, why would this be my solution for her? She had been tested for several things and all the vet could say is that he thought it must be a gall bladder issue. Maybe to some it doesn't seem like a huge issue, but how about having to clean dog puke up every day and then trying to find the best way for her to take their meds, just so she can throw it up again. Strict diet and no fatty foods. Again some days are better than others with her, but I often wonder how she feels and if this will get better for her. And to what extreme could I afford to keep her as healthy as possible. But for now every day when I come home, it's a guessing game as to if there is a pile to pick up and where did she put it this time?
As I sat at my workdesk, doing my everyday paperwork, I get a phonecall from my husband and in a soft, quiet voice I hear him say, "I think I need to go to the e.r." That instant feeling of shock hit me. "What? What's wrong?" And as I am asking him, the whole cenario of the trip to the hospital was already in play, in my head. "I don't know, but my chest doesn't feel right and my pulse is low." Wait a second, his heart? This would be the worse feeling of panic that I had felt. "Okay, okay. I am on my way!" Thank God he only worked down the road from me! In the short distance to the hospital, it felt like the trip took longer. And how about the round about entrance to the emergency room at Eastern Maine?! Could they change the entrance area again? The wait in the emergency room was mind wrecking, didn't they hear him say that he was having chest pains? Finally, in the exam room and hooked to monitors, I sat and waited, as I watched the staff do labwork and assesments. When the doctor said the words, "We are admitting you", I knew that it was serious. Even though it took forever to get transferred in the cardiac, I never realized the time. When the time came and Nurse Wrachet kicked me out of the room, it was sweet dreams for me in the stiff chairs of the family room. Day two was full of tests, as well as testing patience. And at the end, the words that everyone just loves hearing, "We don't know what is wrong with you." What the hell does that mean? That means, 'you're on your own'! Follow ups with the PCP and the Cardiologist are ongoing events. Just to keep us wondering if this could happen again.
The day was overcast, but dry. Travel weather at it's best, no sun in your eyes and nothing to keep the wipers going. So, how could this day of travel be bad? It became the worse day of uncertainties, as we drove around the bend. We could see the flashing red lights of the well known yellow bus, so we had slowed down and stopped behind a small blue pick-up. Then surprisingly, my husband started to excel and go around the pick-up. "What the hell was wrong with him, can't he see the damn lights?!" I started to panic because of the bus, but the kids stayed in their driveway. Did they see what was going to happen? "Honey! What are you doing?" I turned to look at him and I saw him looking in the rearview mirror. "He's not going to stop!" As I started to say, "What do you mean?", I could see the huge metal grill of the truck and the stack of logs that weighed it down. This was it! We are dead! This was where the real panic kicked in. "Oh my God!" But I couldn't finish my words, as the jolt of the impact clamped my mouth shut. All I thought about was the pile of logs crushing us or the log truck driving over us. The impact broke the driver's seat, but my husband pulled himself up in time to turn the wheel. The telephone pole was going to be the next victim! They say that your life flashes before your eyes at times like these. All I was looking for were those damn logs! As we came to a slow stop, we were allowed to breath. Did we survive for a particular reason? Or was this just another sick way of ruining a good day?
It is always unfortunate to have a bad day because who plots out their day to have one? It was definately not something I wanted to do. I just didn't know how to stop thinking that something bad would always happen. It's almost like if I do plan ahead that something bad happens and it doesn't, it makes it a good day. Kind of backwards though, right? I have to start thinking that the day is going to start good. Everyone has had some traumatic event in their lives that totally change their outlook, but I guess it depends how they decide to handle it. Handling it is a must. So, even though my dog isn't at her peak anymore and I may have to clean her messes when I get home, I still have her to look at me and say the day will be okay. My husband, my other best friend, will always be on my mind for concerns. Isn't that how it's supposed to be anyways? Apparently, that is what happens when you love someone, you worry and care about them consistantly. You are there for them regardless. And even though I suffer from PTSD and can not stand the sight of red lights and school buses, I am very thankful every day that we survived that day. I have to believe that things happen for a reason, so why walk on eggshells trying to avoid it? Even though there were those bad days, it shouldn't mean that it is what life is all about. I have to think that bad days can come and go, but I will always be here to see another day.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Isearch Research Plan #2 Graf #14
Understanding a diagnosis of a person that you have only known a short period of time can be a little bit time consumimg. However, when it is a person that you have stronger connections to, you try to find out what you can however you can and in the best understanding of the diagnosis. I would look into some research on the diagnosis, whether it would be on-line or in medical magazines, but I would look into the easier to understand information, yes, I mean in "layman terms". Not everyone can understand the fundamentals of the medical lingo. I also have to say that in my case, I have the person of interest to ask questions to. They could be of the past, the present and the ideas of the future. All in better understanding the diagnosis of Aspergers and how it relates to what the medical professionals say. I also wanted to place some personal oppinions of how I can look at it as not using a diagnosis as an excuse for behavior, but to understand and point out what the cause is for the diagnosis' behavior. Possibly not to look at things as just black and white, but to understand that there will always be some shades of grey.
What I know about my isearch questions#2
It's bad enough that I feel like a shmuck for not educating myself on my step-son's diagnosis earlier. Again, he did not seem like your typical Aspergers diagnosis. At least not to me. However, when I get reminded of certain cenarios, I have to stop and really look at the picture. Yes, I understand that he was diagnosed as a child and that I was not there to argue it. Nor was I there to witness his childhood. I needed to educate myself and be more understanding, instead of being stuck on the fact that I do not visibly see it. Apparently the doctors were correct with the diagnosis, right? Yes, they had to have been. Luckily, he was not as severe as some Aspergers could be. And I see him working deligantly at a future for himself. But maybe if I could understand the causes, the differences and the outcomes better, it will show me how to help him or at least be a supportive parent. I did not want him to ever feel that I would treat him differently than the other children, but some children need guidance in different areas than others and it doesn't automatically mean they are helpless or not able to. So I am looking into this as a learning curb for myself to better understand what I can do for my step-son and his future journey in life.
Motivation Graf#2
I wanted to write about Aspergers. There are a few different parts as to why. I have a step-son that had this diagnosis hanging over his head for much of his life, as he is 21 now. I wanted to make him aware that the diagnosis did not make him the way he is now, but it is the hard work he has applied to defeat it. I also had not taken the time to truly educate myself of this diagnosis. I know, not a very good step-mom, but I did try initially.My problem is that he just didn't seem to fit the profile, so I guess I wasn't going to take the diagnosis as an excuse for everything. I want to know what else I could do as a supportive step-parent and how to help him adjust to the normalcy (if that's even a word) of life. I know that children diagnosed with Aspergers now a days are more understood, or maybe more accepted. Though it seems as if the diagnosis is more easily determined. It's amazing when you know of someone that has Aspergers, there seems to more and more people around you that know of someone also or has it themselves! Almost like it's in the water or something! Bottom line is that I want to understand the different types of Aspergers and to understand what it was like for my step-son growing up with it and what his thoughts are on it and even the differences of how society reacts now and how medical providers treat it differently.
1. What memories does an adult have being a child with Aspergers?
2. Is there ever a point in life when it gets better?
3. What are the differences of the treatments currently compared to the past?
4. What are the different types? How can we tell?
5. How does it happen? Best explanation to the parent.
6. How does someone get diagnosed?
7. Is it a clear diagnosis?
8. Does society accept or treat Aspergers better now than in the past?
9. How does a parent except the diagnosis?
10. What does a parent do to help support their child into adulthood? And does it stop there?
1. What memories does an adult have being a child with Aspergers?
2. Is there ever a point in life when it gets better?
3. What are the differences of the treatments currently compared to the past?
4. What are the different types? How can we tell?
5. How does it happen? Best explanation to the parent.
6. How does someone get diagnosed?
7. Is it a clear diagnosis?
8. Does society accept or treat Aspergers better now than in the past?
9. How does a parent except the diagnosis?
10. What does a parent do to help support their child into adulthood? And does it stop there?
Background to isearch graf#2
Recently remarried, I have found myself with the most perfect family life. Perfect in my eyes anyways. I had been blessed with two children of my own and then added two more wonderful kids into my life. And I never wanted any of them to feel that they were any different from each other, so treated them all the same. Though when we first started dating, I had learned that the eldest son had been diagnosed with Aspergers as a child. Ok, well I definately did not see him as a child at this point, as he was already on his way to early adulthood. So, I guess I kind of passed it off as a normal common cold, he had it then, now he doesn't. And he was no 'Rainman' either. I didn't see him as different. To me he was just another normal teenage boy and I know that that in itself, toys with the word 'normal'. But everytime he would do something akward or say something that would not be to other's comfort level, it would be the Aspergers fault. Now, I am not a type of person that takes excuses lightly, so I didn't quite buy into the Aspergers thing. Maybe it's denial, since my own son was thought of having, but never diagnosed. I didn't treat him differently either. I know, I sound like a heartless person, but this kid was so functioning and he did pretty much everything independantly. So, it was hard for me to see it. I guess there are several different forms of Aspergers, but then again I think that there are several different forms of "normal", as well. He gets along with our other kids, other family members, is an Eagle Boy Scout and works with the Masons, but yet is supposidly a social outcast. Unfortunately, I never had the opportunity to spend time with him as a child and maybe if I did, I would see things differently. But on the other hand I have stepped into his life, perhaps at a better time. I see him for the wonderful person that he has grown into and I see that he continuously works on improving his life.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
iSearch Research plan Graf #14
Alot of what I thought that the isearch paper would be about, would be something I found appealing and connected to write about. I could write about our family's inherated diseases or how I finally decided to throw my loser ex-husband out of the house, but I wanted to write about something meaningful to me. So, I wanted to write about how and why I decided to buy a home for my family. I would have to go back to alot of memories and papers that I had printed out when I was house hunting. And for parts I would discuss the events with my children, as they were a big part of the plan. I do think that there are some areas that I may research, such as does it create an even better relationship or maybe worse, living close to your parents, pros and cons. As far as living futher away from work than some people, I had to look into better ways to save money on gas. I mean we are at $3.60+ a gallon!Buying a Hybrid took some looking into. My biggest fear is that I will have a difficult time putting the entire information out equally. As I tend to be more passionate about one subject verses another. I am also in hopes that my wonderful English composition instructor could lead me in the right path, as he has done very nicely. That's not sucking up either, that's saying that I will probably be pestering him for guidance.
Section 3-Isearch Questions/Answers
Everyone had always told me that the home holds the heart of a family. I would have to agree. It's an old farmhouse and it needs plety of tlc, but it provides us comfort, so in a sense I would consider it a dream home. I knew when I bought this house, I would have to do some repairs. But let's face it, every homeowner faces some 'unexpected' challenges in their home. I know in time the roof will probably need replacing, the chimney might need to be restructured and the windows reframed, since last winter it leaked in the dining room. Probably the easiest job would be the cosmetic work, plaster, paint and remolding the doors and windows. There are always plenty of areas of the home that can be tinkered on.Though I would have to say that I couldn't have picked a better neighborhood. Everyone knows everyone else and they watch over your home when you are gone. In fact, I have an old little italian man next door that always makes sure my driveway is cleaned of snow before I get home from work. I don't know if I have the heart to tell him that I recently bought my own snowblower. Of course I always have my dad to compete against my neighbor, since he only lives two houses up the road. That's right, I bought a house two houses from my parents. I love looking out my livingroom window and seeing the house that I grew up in. I can go over anytime I want just to remenace in my old room. Even better, we all get together, just for the sake of getting together. No holidays or other special occasions neccessary. I can walk up the road with my bowl of potato salad and basket of rolls. What a savings on gas, too! Gas, oh ya, the gas. The worse part about where I live, is not the home, it's where I am away from home, at work! Living fifty miles away from work makes your schedule alot tighter. And the traveling, back and forth, thinking that buying a Hybrid would save on gas, but it's too soon to tell. But then again, it's kind of nice not to run into people you work with at the intown grocery store. It gives a sense of more privacy, I think. Home is home and work is work. I like coming home, cooking for my family and talking about their day, as I can put mine away. I feel that I picked a great home and location to raise my family.
Questions:
1. How do I find the right house for my family?
2. Does living closer to your parents a good thing or not?
3. Is it a good neighborhood for us?
4. What does living far from work impact?
5. What areas of the home need improving and how to prioritize them?
Questions:
1. How do I find the right house for my family?
2. Does living closer to your parents a good thing or not?
3. Is it a good neighborhood for us?
4. What does living far from work impact?
5. What areas of the home need improving and how to prioritize them?
Friday, February 17, 2012
Cause Essay Outro
Though I can not stand the site of school bus lights blinking or passing by log trucks, I still have my health and my husband. I still go to my muscle therapy and frequent follow ups with my Doctor, but time will help heal. I am so thankful for every day. Even though some days are better than others, I am just happy that I can be there to experience what every day brings. And what about those every day routines? Well, they are more important to me, as I now take extra time to do them. I know my two furballs love the extra treats and hugs and I can take the. And as far as the car goes, the trucker's insurance bought us a brand new Hybrid, Venetian red with black and tan exterior. It beams in the sun, as well. However, cars are made every day, but my husband nor I could ever be replaced.
#2 Intro Graf Cause Essay
I just love my new car! I wans't really expecting to buy this car, but when I saw her that was it. Venitian red, beaming in the sun, no one could miss this car driving down the road. I was so proud to purchase my very first brand new vehicle, a 2011 Hyundai Sonata Hybrid. No one around had one. So, the day that I lost that car, it broke my heart, but then again, it almost broke me. My husband and I were driving to work one clear morning and as we were coming around the bend, we saw the red school bus lights. As there was a pickup already stopped and waiting, we slowed down and waited behind him. The children that were waiting for the bus were still in their mother's minivan, so we had to wait a little longer. Thank god for them though. I noticed that my husband had started to go around the pick up and I turned to him and asked, "What the hell are you doing?!" Was he nuts for going forward? The lights are still blinking! "He's not stopping, I need to get out of the way!" What the hell was he talking about? "What are you talking about?!" And as I turned to look at the side mirror, all I saw was the huge 'Bambi basher' bumper headed towards us. Before he could finish his words, "That truck behind ..." BAM! Brakes would not even help us, as it felt like we were streaming through the air. Then "Oh my God! The pole! We're going to hit the pole!" I don't even know how he did it, but he was able to grab the steering wheel and turn it, so we avoided the telephone. When we finally came to a halt down the embankment, I couldn't feel anything.
Oh my god, was I paralyzed? And what was this stuff all over me? I don't even want to look at my hand after wiping my face. And what the hell was that truck driver thinking? Was he sleeping or was it because of those damn cell phones? And how the hell do you not see a bright red car and bright red lights?!
Oh my god, was I paralyzed? And what was this stuff all over me? I don't even want to look at my hand after wiping my face. And what the hell was that truck driver thinking? Was he sleeping or was it because of those damn cell phones? And how the hell do you not see a bright red car and bright red lights?!
#1 Intro Graf Cause Essay
Getting up early on a Monday morning is always so painful. Not the physical pain, but just the dredding of having to do the same thing every morning for the next five days. And you get into such a routine that you don't even think of what you are doing. Shower, dress, pack lunch, take the dogs out, so on and so forth. Sometimes, it takes something drastic to make you realize how important those daily routines mean to you. Apparently, getting rear-ended by a loaded log truck going fifty plus miles an hour would make you see life differently. That's right, sitting waiting for the school bus lights to stop blinking, then BLAM! Only seconds went by, but it felt like forever. Oh my God! Where are we going?! Stop the car! But there would be no helping us at this point. "Honey! The telephone pole!" It was coming right at us or should I say we were steering right towards it! Hands grabbed the steering wheel and cranked it to the left. How ever did he get up from his seat, it was busted in half! Clearing the pole, the car slid down the embankment. It finally stopped. I didn't know what to think, I couldn't even think! I felt warm dampness over my face and skin, what was that? I can't move, what's wrong with me? And why the hell didn't that truck see our car or the school bus!?
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Place Graf#12
There was a calming aroma of freshly cut grass in the air. Flowers looked as if they were always in bloom. But as you walk closer to them, you would realize their stiffer than normal appearance, they were fake. Though, regardless of the feel of fresh flowers, the brightness of the colors would create a beautiful arrangement. I would walk to the headstone and place her lucky charm on the top. Her lucky frog always gave her great fortune, especially at Bingo. Maybe it would sound strange that I could feel comforted, where others would feel emptiness. I have had many important conversations here. Just because I couldn't actually hear the advice or was able to give a hug in appreciation, didn't mean I didn't take it all to heart.Because we have had many laughs here, too! I would pick the overgrown weeds around the fencing, as weed whacking must be prohibited, and then brushed the excess dried grass off the lawn ornaments. It felt like I was doing her house keeping in a weird sort of way. Holidays, birthdays and just the weekend get-togethers are never the same without her. Those were my most favorite memories. Sometimes if I would close my eyes and just think back, I can almost smell her sweet scent of Pond's cold cream and orchids. May sound stupid, but it was the smell that was embedded in my memory of her. And that scent would bring me back to those happy times. It's always hard to leave, but it would get dark out soon. Not anyone's favorite place after dark. But before I would go, I kiss my fingertips and place it on her name. "I love you Lola and don't worry, I'll be back soon."
Real Life Research Graf#11
Isn't it interesting how things happen in life? A lot of people can talk more about the negative events in their life that impacts them every single day. That's seems more of an easier way to connect with others, sadly enough. Apparently, I had always felt that if I always prepared myself for lose or for failure, then it wouldn't hurt or effect me as much when it happened. Crazy, I guess, but that was what worked for me.
What a crazy day at work it was that day. Phones ringing off the hook, everyone's asking for their last minute "Oh, we need it now" type emergency. Damn nurses! I picked up the phone and with a attitude, "Pharmacy!" A pause. Then with a soft man's voice, I heard, "Well, hello Pharmacy." Needless to say, I felt like a big dope. After that conversation, I thought it over and realized that I was a crabby bitch. Just because every other person was pissing me off, I felt bad yelling at the one nice person. I called him back and apologize for being so rude. Funny enough after that "big rude bitch" situation, we talked on the phone even more. I definitely thought this guy was whacked in the head.
The days became months and before I knew it, we were on our first date. I really didn't know what I was doing. What was I thinking? I had recently ended a marriage, a single parent, a single income household and let's not forget the fifty miles between home and work. I needed a second job, not a date! But everytime I would spend time with him, I would see just how alike we are. We would sit and discuss our children, our families, our past and what to look forward to in the future. Our children were close in age 18, 17, 15, 13years old (that means they would all leave home close together!) Our families were both very close to us, so it was nice to see a family just as 'normal' as mine. It was nice to know that we were both in the same boat. Our former lives happened the same way, marriage right out of high school and both had been very young parents. Neither of us were thinking correctly when we were young. Then bad relationships, wrong decisions and always wrecked with stress and fears of failure. That was when I realized, "Oh my God! This guy was a male version of me!" How did this ever happen?
More time went by and with a blink of an eye, we were engaged. Now, it was time to get nit-picky, so I thought. I would watch him style his hair and think to myself how he spends as much time with his hair as I do mine or how he would keep his nails cleaned and trimmed. Yes, these would seem like easy, daily things, but I wasn't used to it! As I watched him interact with the children, it would make me teary-eyed. I could see how he treats them all as his own. Or how he would just come up to me when I would do dishes and give me a hug and kiss, then say "I love you". Then would do dishes the next day. This couldn't be real. It's too good to be true. I was used to just doing what needed to be done and not expecting anything in return. I guess that was where the 'rude bitch attitude' came from. So, how could I be nit-picky, when I had nothing to pick from to begin with. I now had something that I had always wanted, but never thought I would have. If I hadn't felt secure with what I had found in this special person, I wouldn't have married him two years later.
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Motivation Graf
I wanted to write about my house. Not just because it's an ordinary house, but the symbol of this home meant alot to me. It stood for more than just a dwelling. There are many memories built within this home and most importantly I bought this home for my children. Yes, that is every parent's goal in life. But how many people can say that they bought a house two houses down from the house they grew up in? Or down the road from their parents. Not only was there a motive to buy this house, there are also continuous maintenance that are involved with owning a home. Apparently, I hadn't been prepared for that. Yes, I bought my home, but would it become my dream home? There are always ups and downs in every household. That is why I thought that there would be tons of ideas or topics that I could bring up as being a fairly new homeowner. Starting off as a single parent and now focused to work together as a new family. To look into this would seem simple to some, but money, time, efforts, etc. played a big part to achieve any accomplishment. As time went on, there seemed to be more areas to work on. And would this house stay as a permanent part of our lives? So, as we embark on the daily to monthly, adding up to yearly projects to make our house into our home, I often wonder:
* Can I make this home my dreamhome?
* Which project should be prioritized?
* What to work in the house?
* What needs work around the yard?
* Do we stay after the kids leave? Does that influence the projects?
* What do needs to be rid of, verses what needs to be kept?
* Should we do it ourselves or pay a contractor/help?
* How does living 2 houses from your parents really feel?
* Is it better to live far away from work? Is it logical? Or reasonable?
* How does the surroundings of the home work for me (us)?
* How has the house been to the family?
Graph#9
Object graf:
"Oh wow, that is so beautiful!" was what people would say when they saw my ring. Never in my life would I have thought something so wonderfully gorgeous would be sitting on my ringfinger. What a cliche diamond rings are, I always thought. It was always "just what a girl wants". Well, I am not just a girl, dang it all! I wanted to be different, maybe something with color. That was until my then boyfriend proposed with the biggest freaken diamond ring that I had ever seen or at least have ever touched! At that time, the cliche didn't exsist anymore. After I got over the initial nauseau feeling, I was so amazed by the sparkle and the unique setting of the ring. Princess cut diamond on top with rounded diamonds and diamond baggets on the sides with the luster shine of a white gold band. Sort of a redundancy of diamonds, isn't it? I didn't know what to do with it, until he slipped it on my finger. Then it hit me. "Holy crap, I actually get to wear this thing!" It weighs a ton! Never in my life had I been given something so beautiful (kids don't count here) and for what? Was this guy nuts? He told me that he found the perfect ring to go with the perfect partner, both out of the ordinary. Often I find myself just staring at it in awe. Okay so, I like shiny things. Kind of like a crow, I guess. But I guess that it meant more to me knowing that it was picked out just for me and there are no other like it. So, I still was able to be different and still be a part of the "what all girls want" club.
"Oh wow, that is so beautiful!" was what people would say when they saw my ring. Never in my life would I have thought something so wonderfully gorgeous would be sitting on my ringfinger. What a cliche diamond rings are, I always thought. It was always "just what a girl wants". Well, I am not just a girl, dang it all! I wanted to be different, maybe something with color. That was until my then boyfriend proposed with the biggest freaken diamond ring that I had ever seen or at least have ever touched! At that time, the cliche didn't exsist anymore. After I got over the initial nauseau feeling, I was so amazed by the sparkle and the unique setting of the ring. Princess cut diamond on top with rounded diamonds and diamond baggets on the sides with the luster shine of a white gold band. Sort of a redundancy of diamonds, isn't it? I didn't know what to do with it, until he slipped it on my finger. Then it hit me. "Holy crap, I actually get to wear this thing!" It weighs a ton! Never in my life had I been given something so beautiful (kids don't count here) and for what? Was this guy nuts? He told me that he found the perfect ring to go with the perfect partner, both out of the ordinary. Often I find myself just staring at it in awe. Okay so, I like shiny things. Kind of like a crow, I guess. But I guess that it meant more to me knowing that it was picked out just for me and there are no other like it. So, I still was able to be different and still be a part of the "what all girls want" club.
Graph#10
Person Graf:
Do we really know who is responsible for molding us into who we are today? Most girls would say their Moms and most guys would say their Dads, right? Well, I would have to say that it was my Papa that taught me to be the person that I am today. Maybe it was becasue I was the first born, maybe he thought of me more of a son or maybe it's just the stereotypical father-daughter bond. Either way, I always thought it was because we were so much alike. Our characteristics were very much alike, even as a baby my grandmother would say. I think she meant attitude though. He was stubborn, but easy going, also being stern, yet softhearted. He played so many different roles in my life growing up. I felt bad as it overlooked my mother sometimes.
"Ok, now hold your bat like this," Pa would say. As he would demonstrate the stance and mimic the ever so famous "homerun" hit. That was how I always held my bat and swung at the ball, even though it wans't always a homerun, but it kept me competative. He would always remind me to keep that index finger on the outside of the glove, too. And there was the fishing. How he would love to go hornpouting (catfishing for some) at night or to take us nightcrawling late at night. Maybe it sounds kind of hick, but they were great childhood memories! He would fire up his cigar while fishing or outsideat night because he said that it kept the bugs away. Okay, so kids believe that! But then again he really did believe it did. And let's not forget the lesson he taught on how to put your worm on the hook. Yikes, how icky that was! Even how disgusting it felt, I did it because my Pa showed me how. And even though you thought that fish you caught with that worm was huge, he was there to say, "Oh, let this one go and we'll get a bigger one." I guess it was his way of not being greedy and responsible. Or maybe just going after the best? However, my Pa was not very good at the 'going to the other parent to ask' when the other one had already said 'NO'. Pa's very simple response of, "What did your Mother say?" and the answer would be, "She said to ask you." Very important lesson here. I've learned to make sure everyone is in the same room when asking and answering with my children. No confusion there!
Though the years have passed, my father has tried to instill these same simple values into his grandchildren. I say simple because they were. He taught me to do my best no matter how big or small the task was. He had also taught me not to give up and to keep trying. Though he taught me these lessons without any thought of doing it. Would he have thought that playing baseball with your child would show them that they could be a hard working, competative and structured person? Probably he did not. He did it to create special family time with his kids. My Pa is a hardworking man. Working on mill machinery bolted to cement floors 5:30am to 2:30pm every day, five days, sometimes seven days a week for the past thirty plus years, endurance was his key. He still made the time and energy to raise his children. May sound small, but how many kids can say that their Dad was always there every day they came home from school and want to play ball or go fishing? And in the meantime, teaching them the tactics of life. I can truly say that I am proud to be like my Dad and I couldn't think of being any other way.
Do we really know who is responsible for molding us into who we are today? Most girls would say their Moms and most guys would say their Dads, right? Well, I would have to say that it was my Papa that taught me to be the person that I am today. Maybe it was becasue I was the first born, maybe he thought of me more of a son or maybe it's just the stereotypical father-daughter bond. Either way, I always thought it was because we were so much alike. Our characteristics were very much alike, even as a baby my grandmother would say. I think she meant attitude though. He was stubborn, but easy going, also being stern, yet softhearted. He played so many different roles in my life growing up. I felt bad as it overlooked my mother sometimes.
"Ok, now hold your bat like this," Pa would say. As he would demonstrate the stance and mimic the ever so famous "homerun" hit. That was how I always held my bat and swung at the ball, even though it wans't always a homerun, but it kept me competative. He would always remind me to keep that index finger on the outside of the glove, too. And there was the fishing. How he would love to go hornpouting (catfishing for some) at night or to take us nightcrawling late at night. Maybe it sounds kind of hick, but they were great childhood memories! He would fire up his cigar while fishing or outsideat night because he said that it kept the bugs away. Okay, so kids believe that! But then again he really did believe it did. And let's not forget the lesson he taught on how to put your worm on the hook. Yikes, how icky that was! Even how disgusting it felt, I did it because my Pa showed me how. And even though you thought that fish you caught with that worm was huge, he was there to say, "Oh, let this one go and we'll get a bigger one." I guess it was his way of not being greedy and responsible. Or maybe just going after the best? However, my Pa was not very good at the 'going to the other parent to ask' when the other one had already said 'NO'. Pa's very simple response of, "What did your Mother say?" and the answer would be, "She said to ask you." Very important lesson here. I've learned to make sure everyone is in the same room when asking and answering with my children. No confusion there!
Though the years have passed, my father has tried to instill these same simple values into his grandchildren. I say simple because they were. He taught me to do my best no matter how big or small the task was. He had also taught me not to give up and to keep trying. Though he taught me these lessons without any thought of doing it. Would he have thought that playing baseball with your child would show them that they could be a hard working, competative and structured person? Probably he did not. He did it to create special family time with his kids. My Pa is a hardworking man. Working on mill machinery bolted to cement floors 5:30am to 2:30pm every day, five days, sometimes seven days a week for the past thirty plus years, endurance was his key. He still made the time and energy to raise his children. May sound small, but how many kids can say that their Dad was always there every day they came home from school and want to play ball or go fishing? And in the meantime, teaching them the tactics of life. I can truly say that I am proud to be like my Dad and I couldn't think of being any other way.
Background Graf
I had always wanted the things for my children, that my parents made sure I had growing up. I'm not talking about toys, clothes and other materialistic items. I wanted them to grow up in a warm, loving home and to have lifelong memories of the place that they would call home. My parents bought their house when I was ten years old in 1982. And every year my family and I would celebrate holidays or occasions and sometimes just have a family get together just for the sake of seeing everybody. So, when I started looking for a home, I wanted special characteristics that would shout out at me and say, "I'm the one". The first house I looked at was an old farmhouse, though very well maintained. It was not a big house, as everyone would envision a farmhouse to be, but big enough for us. It had everything that I was looking for in a house, strong structure, nice location, evenly sized rooms and it had brand new windows! The house was white with a black singled roof. It had no shutters or any extra colored trim, so it was plain, but looked clean and stern. The same said about the attached breazeway and two story barn. Though the crackle of the brook in the backyard created a sense of calm, both outside and inside the house. When I walked into the kitchen and saw the original handmade wooden cupboards, that was when I realized this house had the potential. It was built in the 1890's and those cupboards were made of real wood, not the cheap pressed ones that they offer now. But it was the first house I looked at and I couldn't imagine this task to be simple. So, I decided to look at other houses and give the kids a selection to choose from.Though every time I would look at another house, I would always compare it to the first house. So after looking at the sixth house, I realized it was no use looking anymore. I knew from the beginning I wanted that first house I looked at. I discussed it with my children, as it was going to our home. They were so excited! Not only to have a home of their own, but it was only 2 houses down the road from my parent's home. It was like having a two for one deal for me. I remember my realtor saying, "I knew you were going to choose that house!" That was it, we finally had a home. It was simple! Or was that just a new homeowner's dream?
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Graf#8
Reaction to Iseaches
Well, by reading some of the sample isearch papers, I truly realized that it is about "I", me, the person. In their own words and through their eyes. Apparently, being a parent sometimes blocks the whole thought process of "I", such as I wish I could get more sleep! I was looking into things more than I should have and need to learn how to narrow 'my' ideas and thoughts. I keep reading the isearch papers for feedback and structure, so I hope that will help me in the long run. Some of the topics that people wrote about were quite unique, such as potty training, but was interesting to read. Kind of down to earth.The papers were personal and it was quite nice to see such vast ideas that people think of. When I originally said in my first worksheet that I wanted to write about something important in my life, it was a very large topic, so I narrowed it to one of the challenges I had that would include the important people in my life. Maybe is isn't as exciting as "how to pick up a date at the bar", but to an older adult, family life matters more.
Well, by reading some of the sample isearch papers, I truly realized that it is about "I", me, the person. In their own words and through their eyes. Apparently, being a parent sometimes blocks the whole thought process of "I", such as I wish I could get more sleep! I was looking into things more than I should have and need to learn how to narrow 'my' ideas and thoughts. I keep reading the isearch papers for feedback and structure, so I hope that will help me in the long run. Some of the topics that people wrote about were quite unique, such as potty training, but was interesting to read. Kind of down to earth.The papers were personal and it was quite nice to see such vast ideas that people think of. When I originally said in my first worksheet that I wanted to write about something important in my life, it was a very large topic, so I narrowed it to one of the challenges I had that would include the important people in my life. Maybe is isn't as exciting as "how to pick up a date at the bar", but to an older adult, family life matters more.
Monday, January 30, 2012
Isearch Worksheet**#2
Isearch Worksheet: #2
What do you want to write about?
**How to make my house a better home.
What do you want to find out about your topic?
**What really needs to be fixed and how.
What are your questions about the topic?
**1. How much money is too much money to spend?
**2. How to prioritize on projects?
**3. Do we plan to stay long enough to finish it all?
How does it connect to your life?
**A home that I wanted to have for my family, but needed improving.
Give three reasons you like the topic
1. It seems to always be an on-going debate as to what needs to be done first because of all the different ideas that we have for the house. And makes family time discussions.
2. It is something important to myself and my family
3. It makes me feel excited to see the finished product.
Give three ways your life might change if you answer your questions
1. Figure out how to not overspend!
2. Feel prouder and happier with my home
3. I would feel more connected to the home and may not be able to move afterwards.
Do you already know the answer to your question? If the answer is sitting in a single book somewhere or if all you need do to find the answer is make some simple decision or ask one person one question, it isn't going to work out for a research paper becuase there isn't much you can research. Is it that kind of question and answer? If it is, please redo the worksheet.
* I thought this one out a little simpler than the original one I had written. I guess that I had been too vague and not settled on one particular subject. I originally had placed some ideas for my brainstorming topic ideas, but when I placed it on the worksheet to more or less verify my ideas, I confused myself. I guess the Psychology class came out! So, I hope that I narrowed this one out a little better?
Isearch Topics/ideas Worksheet Graf#7
• Paper
• Chalk pastels
• Graphite pencils
• Drawing
• Blending
• Walking
• Dog leash
• Sketcher sneakers
• Milkbone biscuits
• Gardening gloves
• Tulip bulbs
• Trowel and shovel
• Flower pots
• Gardening
• Dragonflies
• Windmill
• Mowing
• Mulching
• Bird feeders
• Swimming
• Beach ball
• Floats
• Wine making
• Zinfandel
• Music
• Singing
• Cooking
• Baking
• Pumpkin bars
• Pickling
• Canning
• Tackle box
• Fishing
• Nightcrawlers
• Canoeing
• Blackflies
Cool morning summer air
Get out before it gets too hot
Where to place the new bulbs
Don’t forget to keep the worms for fishing
Should I keep the red mulch
Black seems classier maybe
Needing better gardening tools
Thinking to invest in gardening knee-pads
Which bug repellant works best
Bug repellant scent or effectiveness, which is priority
Should I wear a net helmet or is that too far
Pesky bugs with no win at all, a bug zapper could help
Maybe place the bird feeders and birdbath closer to the flower garden
Thoughts of purchasing dragonflies
Seeing the flowers bloom makes it worthwhile
• Chalk pastels
• Graphite pencils
• Drawing
• Blending
• Walking
• Dog leash
• Sketcher sneakers
• Milkbone biscuits
• Gardening gloves
• Tulip bulbs
• Trowel and shovel
• Flower pots
• Gardening
• Dragonflies
• Windmill
• Mowing
• Mulching
• Bird feeders
• Swimming
• Beach ball
• Floats
• Wine making
• Zinfandel
• Music
• Singing
• Cooking
• Baking
• Pumpkin bars
• Pickling
• Canning
• Tackle box
• Fishing
• Nightcrawlers
• Canoeing
• Blackflies
Cool morning summer air
Get out before it gets too hot
Where to place the new bulbs
Don’t forget to keep the worms for fishing
Should I keep the red mulch
Black seems classier maybe
Needing better gardening tools
Thinking to invest in gardening knee-pads
Which bug repellant works best
Bug repellant scent or effectiveness, which is priority
Should I wear a net helmet or is that too far
Pesky bugs with no win at all, a bug zapper could help
Maybe place the bird feeders and birdbath closer to the flower garden
Thoughts of purchasing dragonflies
Seeing the flowers bloom makes it worthwhile
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Graph #5
Brainstorming Idea; Graf#5
If there is one thing in life that I have learned, things work better using structure. And I hold on to advice as much as I hold on to the pennies in my penny jar. Someday, they will all be worth something. I like the list of items or subjects and I believe that it helps promote ideas when you see it in front of you. Or I also see it as a thinking tool. The more that your brain thinks about something, it almost makes you think of other things that they are related with. It seems that it keeps a constant thought, bouncing down a chart. The only thing that I could say that I may have a hard time with,is wanting to combine all of the items or subjects in my essay. I would be afraid that it would be too much and become too elaborate to keep the reader interested. Kind of like dressing up and wearing all huge gaudy fake rhinestones on your shirt or for jewelry. It's nice and shiny, but too much and people start to look away. Not to offend anyone because I love shiny things, too! Maybe that is my problem, as to why I elaborate? So, I think trailing your ideas is very useful. Now I hope I can prove to myself on the essay. Thank you for the sample.
If there is one thing in life that I have learned, things work better using structure. And I hold on to advice as much as I hold on to the pennies in my penny jar. Someday, they will all be worth something. I like the list of items or subjects and I believe that it helps promote ideas when you see it in front of you. Or I also see it as a thinking tool. The more that your brain thinks about something, it almost makes you think of other things that they are related with. It seems that it keeps a constant thought, bouncing down a chart. The only thing that I could say that I may have a hard time with,is wanting to combine all of the items or subjects in my essay. I would be afraid that it would be too much and become too elaborate to keep the reader interested. Kind of like dressing up and wearing all huge gaudy fake rhinestones on your shirt or for jewelry. It's nice and shiny, but too much and people start to look away. Not to offend anyone because I love shiny things, too! Maybe that is my problem, as to why I elaborate? So, I think trailing your ideas is very useful. Now I hope I can prove to myself on the essay. Thank you for the sample.
Question about our Graf Blogs
I am wondering or double-checking if it is okay for students to comment on other students Grafs? Not that I am out to criticize anyone's work, but I have looked on other students blogs and found some of their stories very interesting. I just didn't want anyone to feel that their privacy was disturbed, or that there is this strange person lurking in "zombie land" to try and be the 'other teacher'. Just maybe some uplifting advice that keeps them writing? Thoughts? Thanks agin!
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Graf#4 & Unique Graf#6
To answer your advice; Graf#4
What I want to write about today, doesn't automatically mean what happened today. Though sometimes it is the easier. I agree that sometimes I overthink of what to write about due to feeling on the spot, but John has made me feel more freely about what subjects and personal views are important to me. That helps! It also helps me find something I do want to write about. It's important to have the work come from a part of you, that what makes it your work.. I guess other people can write about the same subject, but their views can be totally different. And if it is something that comes to mind easily, then anyday, everyday and today wouldn't matter. Letter verses an essay, does that mean it would be much more personal or more direct? I would also think that creating a visual would keep the reader coming back for more and have created a time, place or event would help them understand where you are coming from. To make it my essay, in a personal experience, I would have to be telling it to you, but is there an overusing of I to you? Sometimes it is hard to want to pick a topic or subject that others want to hear about, depending on who your peers are, but maybe it's not the subject entirely, but the delivery of the information. Maybe just write, then pick the topic? I hope that my teacher and I always enjoy my writing, but criticism helps create a better writer. I wouldn't mind if others read my writing, the more, the merrier. All comments would be helpful. And I always think that if it matters to the writer, it never sucks, but may just need a little tweek. Oh my, does this seem like a letter though?!
I thought to write another essay to see if I could use your advice, line per line.
Unique Graf #6
Sometimes I think that the easiest things to write about are the events that happen every day. Though it doesn't really make my mind think about what every other new day would bring. So, I have thought of something that I have found interesting and possibly unique. Maybe it isn't everyone's cup of tea, but it mattered to me. That's what I wanted to write about. Currently, I am a forty year old mother of four children; a 21 year old, a 20 year old, an 18 year old (the one and only girl!) and a 16 year old. So, does that not sound unique or do you just feel sorry for me? My 21, 20, 18 year old, my husband and I are all taking classes at EMCC this spring simester. And to make it even more intriguing I am taking one class with one son and another class with my daughter, who is still in high school. I am sure that other families have been or at the same stage in life as we are, but all of this would be the first time for me. I have been out of school for over 20 years! That's 20 years ago! Some of the students in my class were probably being born at that time! And I have to say, times have changed very much in 20 years. If my thought process in life was half of what my children have now and with so much more being offered, I would have traveled a different road. However, I probably would not be writing this the way I originally set out to. My children actually considered me as a "study buddy", verses just the older lady in class. That sent giggles and a warm feeling inside, as I knew I had instilled pride and respect and just palin family love. I so enjoy the daily discussions and the advice on our train of thoughts about our class syllabus. What another great way of being able to have family time! I could go on and on forever about my children and my future changes in life. What I am hoping for for all of us. But in a sense, I am supersticious and do not want to bost too much and ruin the possible outcome. But that's just me. I would truly be interested to know of other families that have gone through this trial and error. And I enjoy letting people know how proud I am right now. So, like I said, maybe this subject may not be a total interest to all, but I am a proud Momma. And I just can't help it!
What I want to write about today, doesn't automatically mean what happened today. Though sometimes it is the easier. I agree that sometimes I overthink of what to write about due to feeling on the spot, but John has made me feel more freely about what subjects and personal views are important to me. That helps! It also helps me find something I do want to write about. It's important to have the work come from a part of you, that what makes it your work.. I guess other people can write about the same subject, but their views can be totally different. And if it is something that comes to mind easily, then anyday, everyday and today wouldn't matter. Letter verses an essay, does that mean it would be much more personal or more direct? I would also think that creating a visual would keep the reader coming back for more and have created a time, place or event would help them understand where you are coming from. To make it my essay, in a personal experience, I would have to be telling it to you, but is there an overusing of I to you? Sometimes it is hard to want to pick a topic or subject that others want to hear about, depending on who your peers are, but maybe it's not the subject entirely, but the delivery of the information. Maybe just write, then pick the topic? I hope that my teacher and I always enjoy my writing, but criticism helps create a better writer. I wouldn't mind if others read my writing, the more, the merrier. All comments would be helpful. And I always think that if it matters to the writer, it never sucks, but may just need a little tweek. Oh my, does this seem like a letter though?!
I thought to write another essay to see if I could use your advice, line per line.
Unique Graf #6
Sometimes I think that the easiest things to write about are the events that happen every day. Though it doesn't really make my mind think about what every other new day would bring. So, I have thought of something that I have found interesting and possibly unique. Maybe it isn't everyone's cup of tea, but it mattered to me. That's what I wanted to write about. Currently, I am a forty year old mother of four children; a 21 year old, a 20 year old, an 18 year old (the one and only girl!) and a 16 year old. So, does that not sound unique or do you just feel sorry for me? My 21, 20, 18 year old, my husband and I are all taking classes at EMCC this spring simester. And to make it even more intriguing I am taking one class with one son and another class with my daughter, who is still in high school. I am sure that other families have been or at the same stage in life as we are, but all of this would be the first time for me. I have been out of school for over 20 years! That's 20 years ago! Some of the students in my class were probably being born at that time! And I have to say, times have changed very much in 20 years. If my thought process in life was half of what my children have now and with so much more being offered, I would have traveled a different road. However, I probably would not be writing this the way I originally set out to. My children actually considered me as a "study buddy", verses just the older lady in class. That sent giggles and a warm feeling inside, as I knew I had instilled pride and respect and just palin family love. I so enjoy the daily discussions and the advice on our train of thoughts about our class syllabus. What another great way of being able to have family time! I could go on and on forever about my children and my future changes in life. What I am hoping for for all of us. But in a sense, I am supersticious and do not want to bost too much and ruin the possible outcome. But that's just me. I would truly be interested to know of other families that have gone through this trial and error. And I enjoy letting people know how proud I am right now. So, like I said, maybe this subject may not be a total interest to all, but I am a proud Momma. And I just can't help it!
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