This was my first online course and I truly enjoyed taking it, got over some of the fear that I've had with online courses, and truly enjoyed having Mr. Goldfine for an instructor. He always gave me positive criticism; as well as a lot of self-confidence with my writing material.
I learned how to write an effective essay using appropriate paragraph structure and key elements that should be incorporated with each paragraph.
This class definitely was worth the time and money!
Thursday, May 12, 2011
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Comparison Redo
Mothers and Trees
There are storms that will strike throughout the years that will produce damage to trees….some damages will be massive while others will be minimal. There will be numerous hot days that will produce damages to the trees; as well. The ideal goal is to keep the weather calm, sunny, and uneventful in order to ensure strength for the trees. A mother that provides shelter, strength and flexibility for her children will be able to look at and understand the comparisons between herself and the trees.
Trees provide shelter for birds and other forest animals. When winter winds blow and sleet is falling to the ground the tree will sway and crystallize and will do it’s best not to break. This is similar to the way that I care for my children; as any good parent would care for their child. I make sure they dress warmly when it’s cold outside, or the way that I used to swaddle my children as newborns to keep them cozy and warm.
Tree branches sway in the breeze and occasionally a branch will break off and fall to the ground. We see this happen a lot in the fall of the year. As a parent of two busy athletic children who play soccer, football, basketball, softball and baseball our schedules are pretty hectic. I find myself being the solo transporter rushing around—trying to make sure the kids have a decent meal, that the laundry is caught up, and try to keep the house clean. At times I feel like that tree that is swaying in the wind with branches breaking off of it from all of the stress that I’m under with all of the above domestic duties. However, the most important duty for me is making sure that I’m at my kids functions and am their biggest fan!
A much bigger storm comes and a huge limb crashes to the ground and part of the tree is split down the center. That tree was me when my children were two and three years old. I endured chemotherapy for six months. The kids still needed to be cleaned, fed, played with, and nurtured. There were moments when I had decided to quit the treatment but I gained strength and finished the regime for my kids. I had to stand tall and finish the treatments so that I could be around to see my children grow.
Trees are strong, protective, are able to sway and sometimes will break. A good mother will always protect her children, keep them warm and fed and provide a nurturing environment for them to live. They will also go with the flow as their children face small obstacles in their lives whether it be happy or sad. Mothers are a lot like trees—they may bend a little but they never break
There are storms that will strike throughout the years that will produce damage to trees….some damages will be massive while others will be minimal. There will be numerous hot days that will produce damages to the trees; as well. The ideal goal is to keep the weather calm, sunny, and uneventful in order to ensure strength for the trees. A mother that provides shelter, strength and flexibility for her children will be able to look at and understand the comparisons between herself and the trees.
Trees provide shelter for birds and other forest animals. When winter winds blow and sleet is falling to the ground the tree will sway and crystallize and will do it’s best not to break. This is similar to the way that I care for my children; as any good parent would care for their child. I make sure they dress warmly when it’s cold outside, or the way that I used to swaddle my children as newborns to keep them cozy and warm.
Tree branches sway in the breeze and occasionally a branch will break off and fall to the ground. We see this happen a lot in the fall of the year. As a parent of two busy athletic children who play soccer, football, basketball, softball and baseball our schedules are pretty hectic. I find myself being the solo transporter rushing around—trying to make sure the kids have a decent meal, that the laundry is caught up, and try to keep the house clean. At times I feel like that tree that is swaying in the wind with branches breaking off of it from all of the stress that I’m under with all of the above domestic duties. However, the most important duty for me is making sure that I’m at my kids functions and am their biggest fan!
A much bigger storm comes and a huge limb crashes to the ground and part of the tree is split down the center. That tree was me when my children were two and three years old. I endured chemotherapy for six months. The kids still needed to be cleaned, fed, played with, and nurtured. There were moments when I had decided to quit the treatment but I gained strength and finished the regime for my kids. I had to stand tall and finish the treatments so that I could be around to see my children grow.
Trees are strong, protective, are able to sway and sometimes will break. A good mother will always protect her children, keep them warm and fed and provide a nurturing environment for them to live. They will also go with the flow as their children face small obstacles in their lives whether it be happy or sad. Mothers are a lot like trees—they may bend a little but they never break
Monday, May 2, 2011
Comparison Essay:
Mothers and Trees
There are storms that will strike throughout the years that will produce damage to trees….some damages will be massive while others will be minimal. There will be numerous hot days that will produce damages to the trees; as well. The goal is to keep the weather calm, sunny, uneventful in order to ensure strength for the trees so that they can remain strong. A good mother will understand the comparisons between herself and the significance of a tree.
Trees provide shelter for birds and other forest animals. When winter winds blow and sleet is falling to the ground the tree will sway and crystallize and will do it’s best not to break. This is similar to a mother caring for her children. She will do whatever it takes to protect her children and provide a safe and caring environment for them to live.
Tree branches sway in the breeze and occasionally a branch breaks off and falls to the ground. We see this happen a lot in the fall of the year. This reminds me of small incidents that occur in children’s lives—whether it be a broken bone or breaking up with your first boyfriend. A mothers branch may break off of the tree when she sees her children upset but her tree does not falter. She is still there to listen and give support and continues to be flexible and sway in the wind.
A much bigger storm comes and a huge limb crashes to the ground and part of the tree is split down the center. This reminds me of the devastation that mothers may have to potentially face with their children regarding divorce, death, and life threatening injuries or illnesses. Her heart is breaking for her children—people wonder how she will ever stay strong enough to withstand the damages…..but she does.
Trees are strong, protective, are able to sway and sometimes will break. A good mother will always protect her children, keep them warm and fed and provide a nurturing environment for them to live. They will also go with the flow as their children face small obstacles in their lives whether it be happy or sad. Mothers are a lot like trees—they may bend a little but they never break
Mothers and Trees
There are storms that will strike throughout the years that will produce damage to trees….some damages will be massive while others will be minimal. There will be numerous hot days that will produce damages to the trees; as well. The goal is to keep the weather calm, sunny, uneventful in order to ensure strength for the trees so that they can remain strong. A good mother will understand the comparisons between herself and the significance of a tree.
Trees provide shelter for birds and other forest animals. When winter winds blow and sleet is falling to the ground the tree will sway and crystallize and will do it’s best not to break. This is similar to a mother caring for her children. She will do whatever it takes to protect her children and provide a safe and caring environment for them to live.
Tree branches sway in the breeze and occasionally a branch breaks off and falls to the ground. We see this happen a lot in the fall of the year. This reminds me of small incidents that occur in children’s lives—whether it be a broken bone or breaking up with your first boyfriend. A mothers branch may break off of the tree when she sees her children upset but her tree does not falter. She is still there to listen and give support and continues to be flexible and sway in the wind.
A much bigger storm comes and a huge limb crashes to the ground and part of the tree is split down the center. This reminds me of the devastation that mothers may have to potentially face with their children regarding divorce, death, and life threatening injuries or illnesses. Her heart is breaking for her children—people wonder how she will ever stay strong enough to withstand the damages…..but she does.
Trees are strong, protective, are able to sway and sometimes will break. A good mother will always protect her children, keep them warm and fed and provide a nurturing environment for them to live. They will also go with the flow as their children face small obstacles in their lives whether it be happy or sad. Mothers are a lot like trees—they may bend a little but they never break
Monday, April 25, 2011
Example Graf
I grew up in a small country town in Maine where everybody knows everybody and it was always common practice to leave your house unlocked if you went downtown to buy a loaf of bread. I didn’t feel the need to give our sense of security a second thought when my husband and I built our home on a quiet side street….until our home got broken into three times.
The first occasion seemed like a quick “hit”. I came home from work and noticed that the huge green trash bags full of returnables that had been sitting in the garage were gone. I also noticed a jar of change that my husband had was missing. It obviously seemed like something that teenagers would do; and at that moment in time my husband and I weren’t overly concerned about the incident.
It was a hot August day and my fingers tended to swell in the heat; so I took my diamond rings off and left them on my bureau—as I had done for most of that summer due to the heat wave. My husband and I went to work. When I got home that evening I noticed that my pillowcase was missing from my bed, my portable radio was gone, and my diamond rings. I also had an armoire full of jewelry and most of the silver pieces that I had were gone. My husband had a gun cabinet full of guns but none of that had been touched. I was devastated as one of the diamond rings was a diamond wedding band that my grandmother had given to me. The police were notified, came and took down a report of the incident and nothing ever became of it. However, from this point on I locked the doors to the house whenever I went anywhere—even if it was just downtown to the store.
The third episode happened five years later when my kids were ages four and five. I had left the house to go visit my mother around 4pm. I came home around 6pm as my husband went directly to a meeting from work and we ate supper at my moms. I had been busy giving the kids their baths and settling them into bed. I went into my office around 8pm and noticed that the locked door to my desk drawer had been bent. I couldn’t imagine what had happened but after a minute or two I became acutely aware that something was not right. I went into the living room and the corner of the gun cabinet had been pried open and the casing to the front door had been damaged. Three guns had been stolen along with another jar of change. The State Police came with their dogs and searched the perimeter of the house but found nothing. However, one of the officers was fairly certain that he knew who had done the crime. Apparently, there had been an inmate that had just been released who resided in Medway (fifteen minutes from my house)—who had been on a “tangent” and broke into several homes that week. He was caught, admitted to the break in at my house, told the detectives that my house was situated in an ideal location with woods surrounding it, a turn around across the road from my house where they sat watching for vehicles, ran to my front door and knocked, noone answered so they ran around to the front door and pried the door open. He stated that if I had answered the door that he was going to ask for directions. He admitted that he got rid of the guns that night for money to support his heroine addiction. This break in seemed like a well orchestrated plan. Needless, to say, he ended up going back to prison for ten years on the firearm theft……and turned my sense of security upside down.
In closing, it would be an understatement to say that I’m not a trustworthy person after the burglaries that have happened at my residence. As you can see from the above grafs, crime starts out with small things but over time leads to stealing bigger and better things.
I worry about keeping our home safe for our two children. I always watch my neighborhood and jot down license plate numbers of strange vehicles. It frustrates me to think that my husband and I go to work every day to make a living, and in one split second your personal space can be invaded and your families safety could be jeapordized.
Crime obviously can strike any person at any time….I’m certainly hoping that it does not strike our family ever again.
The first occasion seemed like a quick “hit”. I came home from work and noticed that the huge green trash bags full of returnables that had been sitting in the garage were gone. I also noticed a jar of change that my husband had was missing. It obviously seemed like something that teenagers would do; and at that moment in time my husband and I weren’t overly concerned about the incident.
It was a hot August day and my fingers tended to swell in the heat; so I took my diamond rings off and left them on my bureau—as I had done for most of that summer due to the heat wave. My husband and I went to work. When I got home that evening I noticed that my pillowcase was missing from my bed, my portable radio was gone, and my diamond rings. I also had an armoire full of jewelry and most of the silver pieces that I had were gone. My husband had a gun cabinet full of guns but none of that had been touched. I was devastated as one of the diamond rings was a diamond wedding band that my grandmother had given to me. The police were notified, came and took down a report of the incident and nothing ever became of it. However, from this point on I locked the doors to the house whenever I went anywhere—even if it was just downtown to the store.
The third episode happened five years later when my kids were ages four and five. I had left the house to go visit my mother around 4pm. I came home around 6pm as my husband went directly to a meeting from work and we ate supper at my moms. I had been busy giving the kids their baths and settling them into bed. I went into my office around 8pm and noticed that the locked door to my desk drawer had been bent. I couldn’t imagine what had happened but after a minute or two I became acutely aware that something was not right. I went into the living room and the corner of the gun cabinet had been pried open and the casing to the front door had been damaged. Three guns had been stolen along with another jar of change. The State Police came with their dogs and searched the perimeter of the house but found nothing. However, one of the officers was fairly certain that he knew who had done the crime. Apparently, there had been an inmate that had just been released who resided in Medway (fifteen minutes from my house)—who had been on a “tangent” and broke into several homes that week. He was caught, admitted to the break in at my house, told the detectives that my house was situated in an ideal location with woods surrounding it, a turn around across the road from my house where they sat watching for vehicles, ran to my front door and knocked, noone answered so they ran around to the front door and pried the door open. He stated that if I had answered the door that he was going to ask for directions. He admitted that he got rid of the guns that night for money to support his heroine addiction. This break in seemed like a well orchestrated plan. Needless, to say, he ended up going back to prison for ten years on the firearm theft……and turned my sense of security upside down.
In closing, it would be an understatement to say that I’m not a trustworthy person after the burglaries that have happened at my residence. As you can see from the above grafs, crime starts out with small things but over time leads to stealing bigger and better things.
I worry about keeping our home safe for our two children. I always watch my neighborhood and jot down license plate numbers of strange vehicles. It frustrates me to think that my husband and I go to work every day to make a living, and in one split second your personal space can be invaded and your families safety could be jeapordized.
Crime obviously can strike any person at any time….I’m certainly hoping that it does not strike our family ever again.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Friday, April 22, 2011
I Search First Draft
How To Open A Gas Station/Convenience Store
By
Lisa Tolman
ENG-101, College Composition
April 15, 2011
John Goldfine
Introduction:
I chose the topic of how to open a gas station/convenience store because my husband and
I own a piece of property in our small country town that is situated at the only intersection
in town. We have thought about starting a commercial business with this property and
the thought of opening a gas station/store has come to mind a few times over the past few
years. I thought that it would be fitting for me to research what is involved with starting a
gas station/convenience store in my local community.
Purpose:
There is something reassuring to travelers when they stop at a friendly convenience
store/gas station--whether it be to ask for directions or grab a snack.. It’s an opportunity
for locals to grab last minute items that they forgot when they left Hannaford--and a gas
pump for those wishing to get out of town in a hurry or for those who are passing through
town while venturing their way onto something bigger and better.
My town used to be prosperous when I was young. We had Forster Manufacturing; a
Mill that employed over two hundred people and ran three shifts. We had three general
stores and one gas station. The Mill shut down twenty years ago, we are currently down
to one small store and CN Brown gas station is currently up for sale. The price tag on
the store is too high, the store is filthy and sits too close to the main road and it needs a lot
of renovations--so due to the dire condition of this building it would not be profitable to
purchase this existing gas station.
I’m proud of my town--remembering when it was once prosperous and acutely aware that
it needs revitalization. We have not had any new businesses come to town for over
twenty years. It currently serves as a place to drive through while on your way to bigger
places. The purpose of the store/gas station is to offer convenience, to bring something
fresh back to our town, yet while making a profit during these tough economic times.
The issues that need to be researched before my husband fires up his D3 bulldozer are:
Is the property zoned for commercial use?--need to speak to the Planning Board
Is the lot big enough to accommodate for the gas station/parking/gas pumps
Contact Department of Environmental Protection to see is there are property line setbacks, neighboring wells, neighboring drinking water, septic tank placement, and if there are any rules against using our property commercially while located close to the river.
Gas pumps that accommodate credit/debit card system 24 hours a day.
ITS 81 snowsled trail/ATV trail having accessibility to the property
State of Maine website to get employer tax ID application…what other applications/permits do I need in terms of business licenses?
IRS website to download tax booklets for payroll
Accountant
Vendors: need vendor for foods, canned goods, soda, beer
Equipment: shelving, coolers, coffee machines, pizza oven, lunch counter
Baseline Data:
I know that running a business is a lot of work and that in order to run a business the owner needs to put a lot of time and effort into the business.
I know that there are rules to follow when installing underground gas tanks and that there are property boundaries advising how close you can be to neighboring water supplies--but I don’t know what the guidelines are. I do believe that the D.E.P. can advise me on this issue.
There used to be a former Video store and Take Out on the property that we currently own . I’m sure that the former owners were able to get permits to serve food; so I’m not worried about this portion of the business. The building that is currently on the property where the Take Out was is in shambles; so my plan would be to level this building and build from the ground up. I am also assuming that this property is zoned for commercial use if a former business was operating at this location.
ITS81 snowmobile trail currently runs across our property. I know that the closest place for sledders to get gas/snacks would be at the gas station that is located at the other end of town; however, you have to leave ITS81 and sled about three miles to get to CN Brown to get gas. Our station would be better accessible for a great number of sledders that go through our town in wintertime. The closest gas station for sledders heading north on ITS81 would be either in Medway which is fifteen miles from my store.
I know how to apply for a Tax ID number, how to do payroll, and how to do 941 Federal and State quarterly payroll records. However, am smart enough to recognize that we would need an accountant to perform year end duties such as W2’s and year end taxes.
Methodology:
The vast majority of my research was done via the internet. I have had experience using
the State of Maine.gov and the IRS.gov website for information regarding how to obtain
a business taxpayer identification number; as well as information regarding how to start a
business and to download the appropriate tax forms for payroll records.
My husband is a contractor as well as one of the selectmen for our town. Therefore, he
gave me advice on contacting our Planning Board to see about zoning for our property.
I also used the internet to find contact information for the Department of Environmental
Protection for the State of Maine as a resource for gas tank rules; as well as legality of
having gas tanks placed by neighboring wells and major river.
COLLECTED DATA:
Collected Data:
Zoning: I did speak to our Planning Board and found out that our property was zoned for
commercial use back when the former Take Out/Billeen’s Video Store was operating
from this location. I also found out through the Small Business Association SBA.gov
website that I would need to contact our local Planning Board to apply for a building
permit, business license, and alarm permit.
Lot size: I researched this issue via internet and found a helpful website entitled
lawyers.com which instructed for me to consult with my local Planning/Zoning board to
see if the size of my property is big enough to accommodate a gas station/store/parking
space--and if there are property line setbacks.
Neighboring Wells/River: As stated earlier, my husband is an earthwork contractor and
advised me that the Department of Environmental Protection can provide me with the
answers as to whether or not our property is located too close to the River or to
neighboring wells. I located their website and found contact name and phone number for
an agent located in Bangor.
Gas Pumps:
Independent operators can choose whichever gas company that they want to go with
whether it be Dysarts, Shell, Sunoco, etc. 4
By
Lisa Tolman
ENG-101, College Composition
April 15, 2011
John Goldfine
Introduction:
I chose the topic of how to open a gas station/convenience store because my husband and
I own a piece of property in our small country town that is situated at the only intersection
in town. We have thought about starting a commercial business with this property and
the thought of opening a gas station/store has come to mind a few times over the past few
years. I thought that it would be fitting for me to research what is involved with starting a
gas station/convenience store in my local community.
Purpose:
There is something reassuring to travelers when they stop at a friendly convenience
store/gas station--whether it be to ask for directions or grab a snack.. It’s an opportunity
for locals to grab last minute items that they forgot when they left Hannaford--and a gas
pump for those wishing to get out of town in a hurry or for those who are passing through
town while venturing their way onto something bigger and better.
My town used to be prosperous when I was young. We had Forster Manufacturing; a
Mill that employed over two hundred people and ran three shifts. We had three general
stores and one gas station. The Mill shut down twenty years ago, we are currently down
to one small store and CN Brown gas station is currently up for sale. The price tag on
the store is too high, the store is filthy and sits too close to the main road and it needs a lot
of renovations--so due to the dire condition of this building it would not be profitable to
purchase this existing gas station.
I’m proud of my town--remembering when it was once prosperous and acutely aware that
it needs revitalization. We have not had any new businesses come to town for over
twenty years. It currently serves as a place to drive through while on your way to bigger
places. The purpose of the store/gas station is to offer convenience, to bring something
fresh back to our town, yet while making a profit during these tough economic times.
The issues that need to be researched before my husband fires up his D3 bulldozer are:
Is the property zoned for commercial use?--need to speak to the Planning Board
Is the lot big enough to accommodate for the gas station/parking/gas pumps
Contact Department of Environmental Protection to see is there are property line setbacks, neighboring wells, neighboring drinking water, septic tank placement, and if there are any rules against using our property commercially while located close to the river.
Gas pumps that accommodate credit/debit card system 24 hours a day.
ITS 81 snowsled trail/ATV trail having accessibility to the property
State of Maine website to get employer tax ID application…what other applications/permits do I need in terms of business licenses?
IRS website to download tax booklets for payroll
Accountant
Vendors: need vendor for foods, canned goods, soda, beer
Equipment: shelving, coolers, coffee machines, pizza oven, lunch counter
Baseline Data:
I know that running a business is a lot of work and that in order to run a business the owner needs to put a lot of time and effort into the business.
I know that there are rules to follow when installing underground gas tanks and that there are property boundaries advising how close you can be to neighboring water supplies--but I don’t know what the guidelines are. I do believe that the D.E.P. can advise me on this issue.
There used to be a former Video store and Take Out on the property that we currently own . I’m sure that the former owners were able to get permits to serve food; so I’m not worried about this portion of the business. The building that is currently on the property where the Take Out was is in shambles; so my plan would be to level this building and build from the ground up. I am also assuming that this property is zoned for commercial use if a former business was operating at this location.
ITS81 snowmobile trail currently runs across our property. I know that the closest place for sledders to get gas/snacks would be at the gas station that is located at the other end of town; however, you have to leave ITS81 and sled about three miles to get to CN Brown to get gas. Our station would be better accessible for a great number of sledders that go through our town in wintertime. The closest gas station for sledders heading north on ITS81 would be either in Medway which is fifteen miles from my store.
I know how to apply for a Tax ID number, how to do payroll, and how to do 941 Federal and State quarterly payroll records. However, am smart enough to recognize that we would need an accountant to perform year end duties such as W2’s and year end taxes.
Methodology:
The vast majority of my research was done via the internet. I have had experience using
the State of Maine.gov and the IRS.gov website for information regarding how to obtain
a business taxpayer identification number; as well as information regarding how to start a
business and to download the appropriate tax forms for payroll records.
My husband is a contractor as well as one of the selectmen for our town. Therefore, he
gave me advice on contacting our Planning Board to see about zoning for our property.
I also used the internet to find contact information for the Department of Environmental
Protection for the State of Maine as a resource for gas tank rules; as well as legality of
having gas tanks placed by neighboring wells and major river.
COLLECTED DATA:
Collected Data:
Zoning: I did speak to our Planning Board and found out that our property was zoned for
commercial use back when the former Take Out/Billeen’s Video Store was operating
from this location. I also found out through the Small Business Association SBA.gov
website that I would need to contact our local Planning Board to apply for a building
permit, business license, and alarm permit.
Lot size: I researched this issue via internet and found a helpful website entitled
lawyers.com which instructed for me to consult with my local Planning/Zoning board to
see if the size of my property is big enough to accommodate a gas station/store/parking
space--and if there are property line setbacks.
Neighboring Wells/River: As stated earlier, my husband is an earthwork contractor and
advised me that the Department of Environmental Protection can provide me with the
answers as to whether or not our property is located too close to the River or to
neighboring wells. I located their website and found contact name and phone number for
an agent located in Bangor.
Gas Pumps:
Independent operators can choose whichever gas company that they want to go with
whether it be Dysarts, Shell, Sunoco, etc. 4
Monday, April 11, 2011
Effect Essay
“I’m pregnant!” This was one of the happiest statements that I’ve ever made in my entire lifetime. Growing up-- I had always known that I would become a mom someday but the thought of becoming a parent never crossed my mind until I was married. I rushed out and got the book “What To Expect When You’re Expecting”. This was my sacred bible. I would read every chapter faithfully and would go over all of the symptoms and bodily changes that were expected to occur during this wonderful time. The following paragraphs will touch upon a few effects that my body went through during my pregnancies. I will admit that you will probably find some humor in my experiences.
I was walking across the parking lot when suddenly I developed a cramp that brought me to my knees. I literally could not walk until the cramp subsided--which was only a few seconds but enough to make me look like a fool. The cramp was high up on the inner aspect of my thigh. My physician stated that it was from the baby sitting “low” in my pelvis and that there was really no remedy. One evening, I had experienced quite a few cramps and finally decided to give some Ben-Gay a try. I put some cream on the area that was bothering me and sat down on the couch. Of course, as one could imagine, both legs rubbed together and within seconds it felt like my crotch was on fire! I stood up and danced around the living room only to see my husband laughing hysterically at what I had done.
I worked for a family physician during both of my pregnancies and it was common for me to have to take our books down to the accountants office monthly to go over payroll/taxes, etc. I was about seven months along with my first pregnancy and had maternity scrub pants on that snapped on both sides of the waist. If both sides were unsnapped the pants would fall down to my ankles. I went into the accountant office and got ready to sit down to talk to our elderly male accountant and “snap, snap, snap, snap”. He certain had no idea what had happened-- I sure was glad to see him get up and leave the office for a moment so that I could resnap my pants.
“Sure…I want the intrathecal for pain!” I signed on the dotted line. Life was good when I had my second child, Katelyn. I was not going to be a hero this time around! I felt absolutely no pain until it was time to push. Katelyn arrived about twenty minutes later and so did the excruciating headache. Nurses kept coming in giving me “Jolt” and “Mountain Dew” to drink as they had read that caffeine drinks would take the headache away from the anesthesia. This made things worse. Two days later I started vomiting and could not lift my head off of the hospital pillow. Finally, on day three my physician stated that the spot in my spine where the injection was given for the pain had not sealed over and that he could try to have an anesthesiologist do a blood patch. In frustration, I agreed to the procedure. The nurse withdrew blood from my hand and put it in my spinal column. In less than thirty minutes I was dressed and ready to head home with my beautiful baby daughter.
Pregnancy can be a wonderful experience and, aside from the above mentioned issues, mine were pretty enjoyable. I did learn some life altering lessons with my pregnancies….never use Ben Gay on inner aspect of your legs, don’t wear snap waist pants, and be sure to tell the anesthesiologist that I’m prone to headaches when receiving future anesthesia.
I was walking across the parking lot when suddenly I developed a cramp that brought me to my knees. I literally could not walk until the cramp subsided--which was only a few seconds but enough to make me look like a fool. The cramp was high up on the inner aspect of my thigh. My physician stated that it was from the baby sitting “low” in my pelvis and that there was really no remedy. One evening, I had experienced quite a few cramps and finally decided to give some Ben-Gay a try. I put some cream on the area that was bothering me and sat down on the couch. Of course, as one could imagine, both legs rubbed together and within seconds it felt like my crotch was on fire! I stood up and danced around the living room only to see my husband laughing hysterically at what I had done.
I worked for a family physician during both of my pregnancies and it was common for me to have to take our books down to the accountants office monthly to go over payroll/taxes, etc. I was about seven months along with my first pregnancy and had maternity scrub pants on that snapped on both sides of the waist. If both sides were unsnapped the pants would fall down to my ankles. I went into the accountant office and got ready to sit down to talk to our elderly male accountant and “snap, snap, snap, snap”. He certain had no idea what had happened-- I sure was glad to see him get up and leave the office for a moment so that I could resnap my pants.
“Sure…I want the intrathecal for pain!” I signed on the dotted line. Life was good when I had my second child, Katelyn. I was not going to be a hero this time around! I felt absolutely no pain until it was time to push. Katelyn arrived about twenty minutes later and so did the excruciating headache. Nurses kept coming in giving me “Jolt” and “Mountain Dew” to drink as they had read that caffeine drinks would take the headache away from the anesthesia. This made things worse. Two days later I started vomiting and could not lift my head off of the hospital pillow. Finally, on day three my physician stated that the spot in my spine where the injection was given for the pain had not sealed over and that he could try to have an anesthesiologist do a blood patch. In frustration, I agreed to the procedure. The nurse withdrew blood from my hand and put it in my spinal column. In less than thirty minutes I was dressed and ready to head home with my beautiful baby daughter.
Pregnancy can be a wonderful experience and, aside from the above mentioned issues, mine were pretty enjoyable. I did learn some life altering lessons with my pregnancies….never use Ben Gay on inner aspect of your legs, don’t wear snap waist pants, and be sure to tell the anesthesiologist that I’m prone to headaches when receiving future anesthesia.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Divisional Essay Mid Life Crisis
Mid Life Crisis
“I can’t believe he’s fifty years old and he’s driving around in a new Mustang!”, my sister said. We laughed as we watched the middle-aged man wave and smile as he slowly drove by showing off his new set of wheels. I was twenty years old at the time and couldn’t imagine why a middle-aged person would want to act like a teenager. It was absurd! I had heard the term “mid life crisis” but I never really truly knew what it meant…..until it happened to me--thus prompting me to do some soul searching into the symptoms of mid life crisis. Of course, the urge to purchase sporty vehicles, younger looking clothes, changing your appearance in an effort to look younger are symptoms of mid life crisis. However, I would like to outline the issues that I am currently experiencing which pertain to my children getting older, my aging parents, and my uncertainty with “what I would like to be when I grow up.”
My parents are seven years apart and were married when they were in their twenties. My dad was in the Marines and when he got out he went to work in the woods and bought a pulp truck. My mom couldn’t drive when my father met her; so he taught her how to drive after they got married. They seem to “offset” one another. Dad doesn’t say too much; whereas, my mother never runs out of things to talk about. Dad is seventy-three and still hauls wood almost every day and mom is sixty-six and keeps the cleanest house around. I have noticed small physical changes through the years with both of my parents but like most children—I have always been able to “overlook” it until the past couple of years. My mother has developed spinal stenosis and requires painful injections in her back with little to no relief. Her hair has gone from brown to gray and her finger joints have developed arthritic changes. She can still do housework and go places but she needs to take Vicodin to get through the pain. My father used to be a rugged two hundred twenty pound man but over the past few years he’s developed type II diabetes and recently started insulin therapy. He’s lost at least fifty pounds over the past year and is very thin. A lot of people ask me if he’s every going to “retire”….or they’ll ask me if he’s “ok” due to his weight loss. I am struggling psychologically with the idea of the two of them getting older and cannot imagine my life without them. Realistically speaking, I know that the time will come when I’ll have to face the inevitable but for now I guess I get mad at myself for recognizing their “aging process”. I can’t bury my head in the sand anymore. The books say that my emotions are emotions that are often seen when you go through mid-life crisis. I have to wonder….is this mid-life crisis or just plain common sense?
I couldn’t wait to have children when I got married. My husband and I knew that we wanted children and were in fact trying to conceive shortly before my wedding. We were blessed with a son; who is now twelve, and a daughter; who is eleven. I worked for a physician for twelve years prior to having my children. It was never uncommon to work a twelve hour day five days a week. That was the only life that I knew—and was the only thing that I was passionate about. My career began even before I met my husband. However, I remember sitting on the couch crying because I didn’t want to go and leave my son in daycare to return to work. What was wrong with me? Why would I want to throw my career away to stay at home with my kids? It didn’t matter…what mattered the most to me at that time was the fact that I was their mother and I didn’t want someone else raising my children. My husband works at least sixty hours a week and works at least one hour away from home; so I needed to ensure that I would be around to take care of them. I took another job working in our local school district and now have the same hours that my kids have with summers off. My job has no stress, is boring—but it’s worth hanging onto right now because of the hours….because of the kids. My son will have his license four years from now….they’ll be looking at colleges seven years from now….it seems like yesterday when they were toddling around and I can foresee that the next seven years will fly; as well. I can see my life at a standstill when they leave for college. The book says that the “empty nest syndrome” is all a part of mid-life crisis…. but I cannot imagine a parent not missing their child when they leave home. (Please keep in mind that I have not experienced the teenage years yet…so hold that thought!)
My final symptoms of mid-life crisis has been happening to me for over the past five years. I’m not sure what I want to be when my kids are grown and gone. I certainly could stay at home and clean and cook, garden, take long walks, fish, shop, spend time with my husband should he decide to retire from his construction business—or I could go on to college and reenter the work force for another fifteen years. I certainly know that I don’t want to work in the health clinic at school forever putting on band aids, etc. I have always had a medical background; therefore, I’ve been contemplating going on to nursing school. I should have done this five years ago but my kids were still pretty small and I couldn’t be away from them for that length of time. I have taken five college courses through the past few years—to include college composition. I keep thinking that I could quit my job this year and go to school full time; but then I worry about my parents health and tell myself that this isn’t a good idea. So, for now, I’m just dabbling around with some general electives—not even sure if I would even want to be a nurse. The book says that not being able to make a career decision or wanting to switch careers is a part of mid-life crisis.
Symptoms of midlife crisis can be broken down into different subcategories, but I chose to reflect on the above three that relate to my current situation. I believe that everyone goes through a lot of the symptoms of mid life crisis at one point in their life. In closing, I do realize that it’s normal to worry about aging parents, watching your children grow up and dreading the day when they spread their wings and fly, and exploring new career opportunities. What kind of a world would we be living in if noone worried or never set longterm goals?
“I can’t believe he’s fifty years old and he’s driving around in a new Mustang!”, my sister said. We laughed as we watched the middle-aged man wave and smile as he slowly drove by showing off his new set of wheels. I was twenty years old at the time and couldn’t imagine why a middle-aged person would want to act like a teenager. It was absurd! I had heard the term “mid life crisis” but I never really truly knew what it meant…..until it happened to me--thus prompting me to do some soul searching into the symptoms of mid life crisis. Of course, the urge to purchase sporty vehicles, younger looking clothes, changing your appearance in an effort to look younger are symptoms of mid life crisis. However, I would like to outline the issues that I am currently experiencing which pertain to my children getting older, my aging parents, and my uncertainty with “what I would like to be when I grow up.”
My parents are seven years apart and were married when they were in their twenties. My dad was in the Marines and when he got out he went to work in the woods and bought a pulp truck. My mom couldn’t drive when my father met her; so he taught her how to drive after they got married. They seem to “offset” one another. Dad doesn’t say too much; whereas, my mother never runs out of things to talk about. Dad is seventy-three and still hauls wood almost every day and mom is sixty-six and keeps the cleanest house around. I have noticed small physical changes through the years with both of my parents but like most children—I have always been able to “overlook” it until the past couple of years. My mother has developed spinal stenosis and requires painful injections in her back with little to no relief. Her hair has gone from brown to gray and her finger joints have developed arthritic changes. She can still do housework and go places but she needs to take Vicodin to get through the pain. My father used to be a rugged two hundred twenty pound man but over the past few years he’s developed type II diabetes and recently started insulin therapy. He’s lost at least fifty pounds over the past year and is very thin. A lot of people ask me if he’s every going to “retire”….or they’ll ask me if he’s “ok” due to his weight loss. I am struggling psychologically with the idea of the two of them getting older and cannot imagine my life without them. Realistically speaking, I know that the time will come when I’ll have to face the inevitable but for now I guess I get mad at myself for recognizing their “aging process”. I can’t bury my head in the sand anymore. The books say that my emotions are emotions that are often seen when you go through mid-life crisis. I have to wonder….is this mid-life crisis or just plain common sense?
I couldn’t wait to have children when I got married. My husband and I knew that we wanted children and were in fact trying to conceive shortly before my wedding. We were blessed with a son; who is now twelve, and a daughter; who is eleven. I worked for a physician for twelve years prior to having my children. It was never uncommon to work a twelve hour day five days a week. That was the only life that I knew—and was the only thing that I was passionate about. My career began even before I met my husband. However, I remember sitting on the couch crying because I didn’t want to go and leave my son in daycare to return to work. What was wrong with me? Why would I want to throw my career away to stay at home with my kids? It didn’t matter…what mattered the most to me at that time was the fact that I was their mother and I didn’t want someone else raising my children. My husband works at least sixty hours a week and works at least one hour away from home; so I needed to ensure that I would be around to take care of them. I took another job working in our local school district and now have the same hours that my kids have with summers off. My job has no stress, is boring—but it’s worth hanging onto right now because of the hours….because of the kids. My son will have his license four years from now….they’ll be looking at colleges seven years from now….it seems like yesterday when they were toddling around and I can foresee that the next seven years will fly; as well. I can see my life at a standstill when they leave for college. The book says that the “empty nest syndrome” is all a part of mid-life crisis…. but I cannot imagine a parent not missing their child when they leave home. (Please keep in mind that I have not experienced the teenage years yet…so hold that thought!)
My final symptoms of mid-life crisis has been happening to me for over the past five years. I’m not sure what I want to be when my kids are grown and gone. I certainly could stay at home and clean and cook, garden, take long walks, fish, shop, spend time with my husband should he decide to retire from his construction business—or I could go on to college and reenter the work force for another fifteen years. I certainly know that I don’t want to work in the health clinic at school forever putting on band aids, etc. I have always had a medical background; therefore, I’ve been contemplating going on to nursing school. I should have done this five years ago but my kids were still pretty small and I couldn’t be away from them for that length of time. I have taken five college courses through the past few years—to include college composition. I keep thinking that I could quit my job this year and go to school full time; but then I worry about my parents health and tell myself that this isn’t a good idea. So, for now, I’m just dabbling around with some general electives—not even sure if I would even want to be a nurse. The book says that not being able to make a career decision or wanting to switch careers is a part of mid-life crisis.
Symptoms of midlife crisis can be broken down into different subcategories, but I chose to reflect on the above three that relate to my current situation. I believe that everyone goes through a lot of the symptoms of mid life crisis at one point in their life. In closing, I do realize that it’s normal to worry about aging parents, watching your children grow up and dreading the day when they spread their wings and fly, and exploring new career opportunities. What kind of a world would we be living in if noone worried or never set longterm goals?
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Process Essay Christmas Wreaths
WREATHS
Winter time often brings magical memories that last a lifetime. Families head out in search of their perfect Christmas tree and decorations are hung all through the house. Cider is simmering on the stove and the smell of balsam is in the air. My hands are cracked and covered with sap and there are boughs all over my kitchen table.. There are small grooves in my index fingers from pulling the wire so tight to ensure that the traditional holiday decoration that I’ve made will look perfect on our front door and dormer windows. The traditional decoration that I’m making is the Christmas wreath. My front door is open….come in, have a seat and some cider and I’ll show you the process of how to make a Christmas wreath.
The first step involved with making Christmas wreaths is to gather tips for your wreaths. It is always highly advisable to get landowner permission when gathering tips; unless you are getting boughs from your own personal property. Always remember to wear something orange when out in the woods; as it’s typically November when I tip for wreath making. You will need to bring along several large trash bags to put your tips in.
One large trash bag will typically make around three 12 inch wreaths. Once you’ve found the perfect tree that has plenty of healthy looking full boughs—go back around 10-20” from the tip of the bough if you plan to make a 12” standard sized wreath and gently snap the branch off. In summary, landowner permission, wear orange, trash bags, look for healthy boughs, break off only what is needed for the size of the wreath that you plan to make.
So, now that we’ve trapsed around the woods and gathered up our bags of boughs…now the fun begins! Take your wire ring that can be purchased at any craft store for about fifty cents each; and your roll of floral wire. Take your wire and loop the wire around the ring four to five times and pull tightly to anchor the floral wire on to the wreath wire. Take a few boughs and lay them on top of each other—then fan the boughs out with one bough on each side and one bough in the middle. Put them on top of your wire ring and then loop your floral wire around the broken end of the bough three times and then pull tightly—but be careful not to pull so tightly that the wire snaps. Continue this process until you have almost covered your wire ring. Once you get back to where you started place a few boughs going in the opposite direction and secure with wire. We can hide this area with our bow; so don’t fret about it not looking symmetrical. Take your floral wire and finish the wreath off by going around the last boughs that were placed four to five times. Then take your wire and cut a one foot long piece of wire. Triple the wire up and loop it around the top of your wreath and twist it to make a hook.
Now that we’ve gone through the process of how to gather boughs for our wreath and how to place them on the ring; our final step is to decorate our Christmas wreaths. This is my favorite part of wreath making because we can decorate our wreaths in whatever fashion we desire. I have used twisty berries, pine cones, candy canes—or I have simply left them plain and tied on a gorgeous red, burgundy, or even a red and black checkered country looking bow. This portion of wreath making is based solely on what the person making the wreaths desires for decorations. It is a chance to display your own inner talent.
Aaahhh….we’re finished. Now we can sit back, relax, sip on some cider and rest a bit before we head out into the cold to hang our wreaths. Once hung, we can reflect back onto the process that was involved in making our gorgeous wreaths that “don” our front door, dormer windows, mailboxes, lamp posts, and garages. We will feel a sense of accomplishment when we reflect on our cracked, sticky fingers; and all of the compliments we have received about our festive Christmas wreaths.
Winter time often brings magical memories that last a lifetime. Families head out in search of their perfect Christmas tree and decorations are hung all through the house. Cider is simmering on the stove and the smell of balsam is in the air. My hands are cracked and covered with sap and there are boughs all over my kitchen table.. There are small grooves in my index fingers from pulling the wire so tight to ensure that the traditional holiday decoration that I’ve made will look perfect on our front door and dormer windows. The traditional decoration that I’m making is the Christmas wreath. My front door is open….come in, have a seat and some cider and I’ll show you the process of how to make a Christmas wreath.
The first step involved with making Christmas wreaths is to gather tips for your wreaths. It is always highly advisable to get landowner permission when gathering tips; unless you are getting boughs from your own personal property. Always remember to wear something orange when out in the woods; as it’s typically November when I tip for wreath making. You will need to bring along several large trash bags to put your tips in.
One large trash bag will typically make around three 12 inch wreaths. Once you’ve found the perfect tree that has plenty of healthy looking full boughs—go back around 10-20” from the tip of the bough if you plan to make a 12” standard sized wreath and gently snap the branch off. In summary, landowner permission, wear orange, trash bags, look for healthy boughs, break off only what is needed for the size of the wreath that you plan to make.
So, now that we’ve trapsed around the woods and gathered up our bags of boughs…now the fun begins! Take your wire ring that can be purchased at any craft store for about fifty cents each; and your roll of floral wire. Take your wire and loop the wire around the ring four to five times and pull tightly to anchor the floral wire on to the wreath wire. Take a few boughs and lay them on top of each other—then fan the boughs out with one bough on each side and one bough in the middle. Put them on top of your wire ring and then loop your floral wire around the broken end of the bough three times and then pull tightly—but be careful not to pull so tightly that the wire snaps. Continue this process until you have almost covered your wire ring. Once you get back to where you started place a few boughs going in the opposite direction and secure with wire. We can hide this area with our bow; so don’t fret about it not looking symmetrical. Take your floral wire and finish the wreath off by going around the last boughs that were placed four to five times. Then take your wire and cut a one foot long piece of wire. Triple the wire up and loop it around the top of your wreath and twist it to make a hook.
Now that we’ve gone through the process of how to gather boughs for our wreath and how to place them on the ring; our final step is to decorate our Christmas wreaths. This is my favorite part of wreath making because we can decorate our wreaths in whatever fashion we desire. I have used twisty berries, pine cones, candy canes—or I have simply left them plain and tied on a gorgeous red, burgundy, or even a red and black checkered country looking bow. This portion of wreath making is based solely on what the person making the wreaths desires for decorations. It is a chance to display your own inner talent.
Aaahhh….we’re finished. Now we can sit back, relax, sip on some cider and rest a bit before we head out into the cold to hang our wreaths. Once hung, we can reflect back onto the process that was involved in making our gorgeous wreaths that “don” our front door, dormer windows, mailboxes, lamp posts, and garages. We will feel a sense of accomplishment when we reflect on our cracked, sticky fingers; and all of the compliments we have received about our festive Christmas wreaths.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Graf 10 To Fly or To Drive?
GRAF 10 TO DRIVE OR TO FLY
Have you ever been so desperate for a vacation that you think that hopping in your car and driving to Florida with your family sounds appealing? I’ve been doing a little research lately (actually I do this every year in search of a good deal)--about driving to Orlando, Florida versus flying. I work for a school district and they are very strict about not using a personal day to extend a vacation; so, I can only take off Friday, April 15 after school until Sunday, April 23. Of course, Allegiant Airlines had a “deal” of $450 per ticket for travelers who want to leave on Wednesday or Thursday prior to vacation; but if I want to do it “legally” it would cost our family $600 per person to fly to Florida. Of course, to drive to Florida would deduct at least four days out of my nine day vacation, we’d probably all be exhausted when we arrived in sunny Orlando. However, it would cost us $600 total for gas, we’d spend around $250 in hotel rooms, but would save $500 for a rental car. It’s obvious that my fun-filled vacation would be a heck of a lot cheaper if we chose to drive--however, I can already foresee the kids asking “how much longer?”, and hearing my husband state….”we’re gonna have to leave to head home a day earlier so we can take our time getting back”………Unfortunately, due to the high cost of jet fuel…we’ll be staying home this April vacation.
Have you ever been so desperate for a vacation that you think that hopping in your car and driving to Florida with your family sounds appealing? I’ve been doing a little research lately (actually I do this every year in search of a good deal)--about driving to Orlando, Florida versus flying. I work for a school district and they are very strict about not using a personal day to extend a vacation; so, I can only take off Friday, April 15 after school until Sunday, April 23. Of course, Allegiant Airlines had a “deal” of $450 per ticket for travelers who want to leave on Wednesday or Thursday prior to vacation; but if I want to do it “legally” it would cost our family $600 per person to fly to Florida. Of course, to drive to Florida would deduct at least four days out of my nine day vacation, we’d probably all be exhausted when we arrived in sunny Orlando. However, it would cost us $600 total for gas, we’d spend around $250 in hotel rooms, but would save $500 for a rental car. It’s obvious that my fun-filled vacation would be a heck of a lot cheaper if we chose to drive--however, I can already foresee the kids asking “how much longer?”, and hearing my husband state….”we’re gonna have to leave to head home a day earlier so we can take our time getting back”………Unfortunately, due to the high cost of jet fuel…we’ll be staying home this April vacation.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Contrast Essay
Contrast Essay:
JORDAN AND MILEY
I’ll admit that I’m a golden retreiver fanatic! Don’t get me wrong; I like all dog species but I just melt whenever I see a golden retriever. When I see a golden with their owner I will typically go over and say to the owner “what a gorgeous dog”--just to sort of feel the owner out to see if it’s ok for a stranger to pet their prize posession. Then, I’ll lean over and pet the dog’s head and scratch behind it’s ears. I will carry on a conversation with the owner about my retrievers in an effort to stay awhile longer to socialize with the dog. Within the past twenty years I have been very fortunate to have owned two golden retrievers. Jordan, my first golden, lived to be eleven years of age. Miley, is currently three and will be lucky to live to age four. Jordan had a few bad habits that could easily be overlooked. However, Miley is completely different than Jordan. I hope you find the following differences between my two “girls” to be somewhat amusing.
Jordan was a birthday present from my husband before we were married. I saw the ad in the Bangor Daily News, rode to Amherst and paid two hundred dollars to pick out the little ball of fur. Her mother was well cared for and this was her first litter of healthy pups. Miley, on the other hand, was born at the Lincoln Humane Society. Her mother was rescued from a family that used her as a “puppy mill”--and was on her fourth litter of pups. It had been two years since Jordan had passed away and I didn’t care about the circumstances with the pups….I wanted to get another golden retriever to fill the void of losing Jordan; so thirty dollars was spent along with a promise that I would have her spayed--and Miley had a home.
Jordan was very easy to house train. I remember spending a few weeks outside on cold fall nights with my bedroom slippers on and bathrobe walking around the lawn with her saying…”ya gotta go pee?” hoping that she’d catch on. It took a couple of weeks and she did. I remember pacing outside trying to get Miley to pee and poop for one to two months. She would have good days; and other days would go outside and pee only to come inside and poop in a corner somewhere. Jordan had a bad habit of grasping your sleeve and holding onto it with her teeth. She also had a habit of being a couch potato. I would leave for work at seven a.m. and would have to drive her off of the couch at six p.m. to make her go outside and pee. Miley was the typical pup who liked to play and was full of vigor but seemed to have more aggressiveness in her personality compared to Jordan. She had plenty of dog toys but preferred to chew up the kids sneakers, my socks and personal undergarments, my husbands hats, the kids toys, etc. I cannot leave anything on the sideboard for food or she will jump up and cruise around the sideboard and scoffle down anything that she can find. I have to keep a baby gate against our trash bin or she will dive into it and strew trash throughout the house. She likes to steal the tub of butter off of the kitchen table if left unattended. She will run downstairs where my laundry shoot is and will grab wash cloths and chew holes in the center of them.
I’m sure that Jordan didn’t know what to think when my first child, Tyler, was born in 1999. She sat by my side all hours of the night with her head tilted off to the side whenever he would cry. Tyler learned how to crawl at eight months. Jordan would lie on the floor and he would crawl up on her side and use her to keep his balance. Pretty soon, Katelyn came along in 2000. Jordan had her hands full with lapping the floor from where the baby food spilled from Katelyn, and being Tyler’s buddy when he decided to wander around on the front lawn. Miley loves to be near the kids; however she came along when the kids were seven and eight, so she mostly lays at their feet when they are listening to their Ipod or playing the Wii. She loves to run out back in our field and thinks she’s “ten feet tall and bullet proof” but actually is afraid of her own shadow. Jordan would sit in the lake at camp with the kids for hours on end--and when they finally decided to call it a day…she would, too. She was very protective around my children. If they decided to swim out beyond the wharf when they were eight and nine years old--she would bark nonstop until they came back in closer to her. Miley has the same protective instinct but tends to chase frogs around along the shoreline and will leave the kids sight--but will scramble over to the kids if they are goofing off in the water. Once she senses everything is ok she will go lay down in the grass. Jordan would never do that. She would sit in the water all day long until the kids got out. Miley loves to be with the kids and helps me say goodnight to them each night. She lays on the floor next to my bed and when my husband leaves for work she quickly jumps into bed and snuggles with me--like Jordan used to.
My heart broke when I found Jordan lifeless on my bedroom floor. I knew that the rust colored fur had turned white under her chin and that she had had a hard time “keeping up” with us walking on the camp road one week prior. I could see it coming--but wanted to run as far away from the issue as possible. It seemed so unfair to see my best friend go just like that--but I often reflect about what a wonderful life she had with us; as we had with her. Miley is twenty-one in human years and still acts like the typical teenager/early adult but I know that there will come a day when I’ll see white under her chin. She has been a handful to say the least; but at the end of the day I’m sure that I will be just as broken hearted without her as I am without Jordan. I will just reflect on the wonderful life she’s had with us; as we have had with her. Despite their contrast in personalities-- I have found my two Goldens to both be faithful companions, the “twenty-four hour babysitters“, the snugglers, the keeper of secrets…..the trusted friend.
JORDAN AND MILEY
I’ll admit that I’m a golden retreiver fanatic! Don’t get me wrong; I like all dog species but I just melt whenever I see a golden retriever. When I see a golden with their owner I will typically go over and say to the owner “what a gorgeous dog”--just to sort of feel the owner out to see if it’s ok for a stranger to pet their prize posession. Then, I’ll lean over and pet the dog’s head and scratch behind it’s ears. I will carry on a conversation with the owner about my retrievers in an effort to stay awhile longer to socialize with the dog. Within the past twenty years I have been very fortunate to have owned two golden retrievers. Jordan, my first golden, lived to be eleven years of age. Miley, is currently three and will be lucky to live to age four. Jordan had a few bad habits that could easily be overlooked. However, Miley is completely different than Jordan. I hope you find the following differences between my two “girls” to be somewhat amusing.
Jordan was a birthday present from my husband before we were married. I saw the ad in the Bangor Daily News, rode to Amherst and paid two hundred dollars to pick out the little ball of fur. Her mother was well cared for and this was her first litter of healthy pups. Miley, on the other hand, was born at the Lincoln Humane Society. Her mother was rescued from a family that used her as a “puppy mill”--and was on her fourth litter of pups. It had been two years since Jordan had passed away and I didn’t care about the circumstances with the pups….I wanted to get another golden retriever to fill the void of losing Jordan; so thirty dollars was spent along with a promise that I would have her spayed--and Miley had a home.
Jordan was very easy to house train. I remember spending a few weeks outside on cold fall nights with my bedroom slippers on and bathrobe walking around the lawn with her saying…”ya gotta go pee?” hoping that she’d catch on. It took a couple of weeks and she did. I remember pacing outside trying to get Miley to pee and poop for one to two months. She would have good days; and other days would go outside and pee only to come inside and poop in a corner somewhere. Jordan had a bad habit of grasping your sleeve and holding onto it with her teeth. She also had a habit of being a couch potato. I would leave for work at seven a.m. and would have to drive her off of the couch at six p.m. to make her go outside and pee. Miley was the typical pup who liked to play and was full of vigor but seemed to have more aggressiveness in her personality compared to Jordan. She had plenty of dog toys but preferred to chew up the kids sneakers, my socks and personal undergarments, my husbands hats, the kids toys, etc. I cannot leave anything on the sideboard for food or she will jump up and cruise around the sideboard and scoffle down anything that she can find. I have to keep a baby gate against our trash bin or she will dive into it and strew trash throughout the house. She likes to steal the tub of butter off of the kitchen table if left unattended. She will run downstairs where my laundry shoot is and will grab wash cloths and chew holes in the center of them.
I’m sure that Jordan didn’t know what to think when my first child, Tyler, was born in 1999. She sat by my side all hours of the night with her head tilted off to the side whenever he would cry. Tyler learned how to crawl at eight months. Jordan would lie on the floor and he would crawl up on her side and use her to keep his balance. Pretty soon, Katelyn came along in 2000. Jordan had her hands full with lapping the floor from where the baby food spilled from Katelyn, and being Tyler’s buddy when he decided to wander around on the front lawn. Miley loves to be near the kids; however she came along when the kids were seven and eight, so she mostly lays at their feet when they are listening to their Ipod or playing the Wii. She loves to run out back in our field and thinks she’s “ten feet tall and bullet proof” but actually is afraid of her own shadow. Jordan would sit in the lake at camp with the kids for hours on end--and when they finally decided to call it a day…she would, too. She was very protective around my children. If they decided to swim out beyond the wharf when they were eight and nine years old--she would bark nonstop until they came back in closer to her. Miley has the same protective instinct but tends to chase frogs around along the shoreline and will leave the kids sight--but will scramble over to the kids if they are goofing off in the water. Once she senses everything is ok she will go lay down in the grass. Jordan would never do that. She would sit in the water all day long until the kids got out. Miley loves to be with the kids and helps me say goodnight to them each night. She lays on the floor next to my bed and when my husband leaves for work she quickly jumps into bed and snuggles with me--like Jordan used to.
My heart broke when I found Jordan lifeless on my bedroom floor. I knew that the rust colored fur had turned white under her chin and that she had had a hard time “keeping up” with us walking on the camp road one week prior. I could see it coming--but wanted to run as far away from the issue as possible. It seemed so unfair to see my best friend go just like that--but I often reflect about what a wonderful life she had with us; as we had with her. Miley is twenty-one in human years and still acts like the typical teenager/early adult but I know that there will come a day when I’ll see white under her chin. She has been a handful to say the least; but at the end of the day I’m sure that I will be just as broken hearted without her as I am without Jordan. I will just reflect on the wonderful life she’s had with us; as we have had with her. Despite their contrast in personalities-- I have found my two Goldens to both be faithful companions, the “twenty-four hour babysitters“, the snugglers, the keeper of secrets…..the trusted friend.
I Search Background
I Search Background
I remember asking my dad when I was around eight or nine years old who his boss was. His response was “noone…I’m my own boss..I’m a sub contractor for a logging company.” All of my other friends parents had a “boss” and worked for someone--I thought at the time that this was not cool. As the years progressed and after I’ve been working for twenty years for a “boss”--I admire my fathers ability to provide for our family on his own. The older I get the more I seem to wish that I had something of my own to build from the ground up and run and be successful at.
I know absolutely nothing about running a business; other than in order to be successful in this day and age you need to be present and physically be at the business. My husband worked at several gas stations when he was a teenager and he runs his own construction business; so he’s aware of the risks involved with running your own business. I do all of his payroll/quarterly taxes; so am familiar with that.
Running a gas station/store/lunch counter came to mind a few years ago. Our local gas station went up for sale for 200 thousand dollars and the building is over thirty years old. I inquired about it but my husband said that you’d need to build the building in the ideal location and have it sit back further away from the road. It didn’t make sense to sink that amount of money into an old building that needed major improvements.
We purchased a lot at the beginning of our street that is in an ideal location at the only major intersection in town. A Take Out in the summertime was tossed around but we also have ITS81 snowmobile trail going across the property which would be ideal for snowbladers for gas, etc.
I have never taken economics or ever worked in a gas station/restaurant. I have the work ethic and the desire to be successful--as I ran a busy medical practice for seventeen years. I’m used to working twelve hour days.
The question at this point in my life is…do you want to run your own business and be tied to it? Will I be able to sell it thirty years down the line and make a profit? My answer early on….is “probably not” because we live in such a small town. I would I’ve seen many businesses come and go--even in bigger towns. The economy is in terrible shape.
However, you do hear stories about the “American Dream” and how people make a go of their businesses and do fairly well. I’m Isearching this topic to “put a rest” to my idea--or perhaps realize that this can be doable.
I remember asking my dad when I was around eight or nine years old who his boss was. His response was “noone…I’m my own boss..I’m a sub contractor for a logging company.” All of my other friends parents had a “boss” and worked for someone--I thought at the time that this was not cool. As the years progressed and after I’ve been working for twenty years for a “boss”--I admire my fathers ability to provide for our family on his own. The older I get the more I seem to wish that I had something of my own to build from the ground up and run and be successful at.
I know absolutely nothing about running a business; other than in order to be successful in this day and age you need to be present and physically be at the business. My husband worked at several gas stations when he was a teenager and he runs his own construction business; so he’s aware of the risks involved with running your own business. I do all of his payroll/quarterly taxes; so am familiar with that.
Running a gas station/store/lunch counter came to mind a few years ago. Our local gas station went up for sale for 200 thousand dollars and the building is over thirty years old. I inquired about it but my husband said that you’d need to build the building in the ideal location and have it sit back further away from the road. It didn’t make sense to sink that amount of money into an old building that needed major improvements.
We purchased a lot at the beginning of our street that is in an ideal location at the only major intersection in town. A Take Out in the summertime was tossed around but we also have ITS81 snowmobile trail going across the property which would be ideal for snowbladers for gas, etc.
I have never taken economics or ever worked in a gas station/restaurant. I have the work ethic and the desire to be successful--as I ran a busy medical practice for seventeen years. I’m used to working twelve hour days.
The question at this point in my life is…do you want to run your own business and be tied to it? Will I be able to sell it thirty years down the line and make a profit? My answer early on….is “probably not” because we live in such a small town. I would I’ve seen many businesses come and go--even in bigger towns. The economy is in terrible shape.
However, you do hear stories about the “American Dream” and how people make a go of their businesses and do fairly well. I’m Isearching this topic to “put a rest” to my idea--or perhaps realize that this can be doable.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
I Search Brainstorm
I SEARCH BRAINSTORM:
Gas station
Convenience store
Fresh sandwiches
Lunch counter--only for breakfasts
Pizza oven
Is lot big enough for fuel tanks?
RISK
Can town support two gas stations?
Need something else to lure people to stop--?car wash: town has never had one
Parking--is lot big enough or 10 parking spaces
Smal town
Bad economy
Self run business….no business…no check
Self run business: need to work there full time
Is it really worth the hassle?
Can you make it profitable?
Debit/credit card machines
Food prep bar, grill, pizza oven, stove, dishwasher, sinks, grease hoods/ventilation,
Codes to follow
?movie rental--no place in town to rent movies
Nothing in town--just a place to drive through leading to somewhere bigger.
Would have to rely on tourists--people headed to the Mountain in the summertime and passing through snow sledding in the winter time.
Gas station
Convenience store
Fresh sandwiches
Lunch counter--only for breakfasts
Pizza oven
Is lot big enough for fuel tanks?
RISK
Can town support two gas stations?
Need something else to lure people to stop--?car wash: town has never had one
Parking--is lot big enough or 10 parking spaces
Smal town
Bad economy
Self run business….no business…no check
Self run business: need to work there full time
Is it really worth the hassle?
Can you make it profitable?
Debit/credit card machines
Food prep bar, grill, pizza oven, stove, dishwasher, sinks, grease hoods/ventilation,
Codes to follow
?movie rental--no place in town to rent movies
Nothing in town--just a place to drive through leading to somewhere bigger.
Would have to rely on tourists--people headed to the Mountain in the summertime and passing through snow sledding in the winter time.
Monday, March 14, 2011
I Search Why & What
I Search Why: Opening a Gas Station/Convenience Store
Personal history: My husband and I own a corner piece of land at an intersection at the end of my street that could be an ideal location for a business--perhaps a gas station/convenience store. We live in a small town of around 900 citizens. There is an old gas station about two miles down the road that is currently up for sale. We joked around about purchasing the old gas station but it’s in a bad location--and our property would be the ideal location. I truly doubt if we will ever do anything with this property; but the fascination about running my own business is the real reason why I’m pushing forward with this topic in an effort to research the following questions:
Is the property zoned for commercial use?
Is the property large enough to install gas tanks/DEP certified?
Is the property in an ideal location for the flow of traffic?
What other services could the gas station/convenience store offer?
What types of traffic go through the town?….winter vs. summer….destination.
What other types of permits are required?
Inspection of kitchen equipment? Who do you notify? How soon do they come?
Tax ID number? Tobacco/alcohol sales number?
What else could we add for an added attraction/feature to our gas station/store to make it more appealing to public?
Employees--how many? Part time vs. full time
What types of items would sell in the store to benefit the local community?
I Search What:
I know that the property is located at the only intersection in town that leads West toward Medway/East Mill/Millinocket and Baxter State Park. Located on Route 2 running North towards Houlton--last gas station for 50 miles if headed north. Next gas station headed West would be about 15 miles. Gas station headed South would be about one mile.
Logging trucks go through town--would need diesel fuel as well as regular
ITS 81 snowmobile trail is groomed across the property…would benefit to have a gas station that sold 24 hour gas with credit/debit card for those sleds who come into town late at night and need gas; whereas other station in town doesn’t and isn’t located on the trail.
I think one to two full time employees, myself, and 2-3 part time employees.
Personal history: My husband and I own a corner piece of land at an intersection at the end of my street that could be an ideal location for a business--perhaps a gas station/convenience store. We live in a small town of around 900 citizens. There is an old gas station about two miles down the road that is currently up for sale. We joked around about purchasing the old gas station but it’s in a bad location--and our property would be the ideal location. I truly doubt if we will ever do anything with this property; but the fascination about running my own business is the real reason why I’m pushing forward with this topic in an effort to research the following questions:
Is the property zoned for commercial use?
Is the property large enough to install gas tanks/DEP certified?
Is the property in an ideal location for the flow of traffic?
What other services could the gas station/convenience store offer?
What types of traffic go through the town?….winter vs. summer….destination.
What other types of permits are required?
Inspection of kitchen equipment? Who do you notify? How soon do they come?
Tax ID number? Tobacco/alcohol sales number?
What else could we add for an added attraction/feature to our gas station/store to make it more appealing to public?
Employees--how many? Part time vs. full time
What types of items would sell in the store to benefit the local community?
I Search What:
I know that the property is located at the only intersection in town that leads West toward Medway/East Mill/Millinocket and Baxter State Park. Located on Route 2 running North towards Houlton--last gas station for 50 miles if headed north. Next gas station headed West would be about 15 miles. Gas station headed South would be about one mile.
Logging trucks go through town--would need diesel fuel as well as regular
ITS 81 snowmobile trail is groomed across the property…would benefit to have a gas station that sold 24 hour gas with credit/debit card for those sleds who come into town late at night and need gas; whereas other station in town doesn’t and isn’t located on the trail.
I think one to two full time employees, myself, and 2-3 part time employees.
Contrast Essay: Jordan and Miley
Contrast Essay:
JORDAN AND MILEY
I’ll admit that I’m a golden retreiver fanatic! Don’t get me wrong; I like all dog species but I just melt whenever I see a golden retriever. When I see a golden with their owner I will typically go over and say to the owner “what a gorgeous dog”--just to sort of feel the owner out to see if it’s ok for a stranger to pet their prize posession. Then, I’ll lean over and pet the dog’s head and scratch behind it’s ears. I will carry on a conversation with the owner about my retrievers in an effort to stay awhile longer to socialize with the dog. Within the past twenty years I have been very fortunate to have owned two golden retrievers. Jordan, my first golden, lived to be eleven years of age. Miley, is currently three and will be lucky to live to age four. Jordan had a few bad habits that could easily be overlooked. However, Miley is completely different than Jordan. I hope you find the following differences between my two “girls” to be somewhat amusing.
Jordan was a birthday present from my husband before we were married. I saw the ad in the Bangor Daily News, rode to Amherst and paid two hundred dollars to pick out the little ball of fur. Her mother was well cared for and this was her first litter of healthy pups. Miley, on the other hand, was born at the Lincoln Humane Society. Her mother was rescued from a family that used her as a “puppy mill”--and was on her fourth litter of pups. It had been two years since Jordan had passed away and I didn’t care about the circumstances with the pups….I wanted to get another golden retriever to fill the void of losing Jordan; so thirty dollars was spent along with a promise that I would have her spayed--and Miley had a home.
Jordan was very easy to house train. I remember spending a few weeks outside on cold fall nights with my bedroom slippers on and bathrobe walking around the lawn with her saying…”ya gotta go pee?” hoping that she’d catch on. It took a couple of weeks and she did. I took her to obedience classes when she was six months old--she disliked this so much that she chewed up her diploma on the way home from class. I’m sure that Jordan didn’t know what to think when my first child, Tyler, was born in 1999. She sat by my side all hours of the night with her head tilted off to the side whenever he would cry. Tyler learned how to crawl at eight months. Jordan would lie on the floor and he would crawl up on her side and use her to keep his balance. Pretty soon, Katelyn came along in 2000. Jordan had her hands full with lapping the floor from where the baby food spilled from Katelyn, and being Tyler’s buddy when he decided to wander around on the front lawn. Jordan would sit in the lake at camp with the kids for hours on end--and when they finally decided to call it a day…she would, too. She was very protective around my children. If they decided to swim out beyond the wharf when they were eight and nine years old--she would bark nonstop until they came back in closer to her. Jordan would steal a hunk of meatloaf off of your plate if you turned your back from her and she had a bad habit of easily grabbing onto peoples sleeves whenever company would show up. However, I forgot about all of that when she snuggled in bed with me. My heart broke when I found her lifeless on my bedroom floor. I knew that the rust colored fur had turned white--that she had had a hard time “keeping up” with us walking on the camp road one week earlier. It seemed so unfair to see your best friend go just like that--but I often reflect about what a wonderful life she had with us; as we had with her.
Miley was adopted in November of 2008. I remember pacing outside trying to get her to pee and poop for one to two months. She would have good days; and other days would go outside and pee only to come inside and poop in a corner somewhere. She was the typical pup who liked to play and was full of vigor but seemed to have more aggressiveness in her compared to Jordan. She had plenty of dog toys but preferred to chew up the kids sneakers, my socks and personal undergarments, my husbands hats, the kids toys, etc. I cannot leave anything on the sideboard for food or she will jump up and cruise around the sideboard and scoffle down anything that she can find. I have to keep a baby gate against our trash bin or she will dive into it and strew trash throughout the house. She likes to steal the tub of butter off of the kitchen table if left unattended. She will run downstairs where my laundry shoot is and will grab wash cloths and chew holes in the center of them. However, she loves to be with the kids and helps me say goodnight to them each night. She lays on the floor next to my bed and when my husband leaves for work she quickly jumps into bed and snuggles with me--like Jordan used to. Miley will leap out the window of my SUV when we arrive at camp and will dash into the lake with the kids. She will chase down frogs along the shoreline but still keeps a watchful eye on the kids and will hang around the water until they get ready to get out--similar to Jordan.
As you can see, Jordan and Miley are Goldens but their personalities are very different from one another. I know that Miley’s bad habits have been a struggle for me, however, at the end of the road I am sure that I will be just as heartbroken when her life is gone. I will just reflect on the wonderful life she’s had with us; and us with her. I have found my two Goldens to both be faithful companions, the “twenty-four hour babysitters“, the snugglers, the keeper of secrets…..the trusted friend.
JORDAN AND MILEY
I’ll admit that I’m a golden retreiver fanatic! Don’t get me wrong; I like all dog species but I just melt whenever I see a golden retriever. When I see a golden with their owner I will typically go over and say to the owner “what a gorgeous dog”--just to sort of feel the owner out to see if it’s ok for a stranger to pet their prize posession. Then, I’ll lean over and pet the dog’s head and scratch behind it’s ears. I will carry on a conversation with the owner about my retrievers in an effort to stay awhile longer to socialize with the dog. Within the past twenty years I have been very fortunate to have owned two golden retrievers. Jordan, my first golden, lived to be eleven years of age. Miley, is currently three and will be lucky to live to age four. Jordan had a few bad habits that could easily be overlooked. However, Miley is completely different than Jordan. I hope you find the following differences between my two “girls” to be somewhat amusing.
Jordan was a birthday present from my husband before we were married. I saw the ad in the Bangor Daily News, rode to Amherst and paid two hundred dollars to pick out the little ball of fur. Her mother was well cared for and this was her first litter of healthy pups. Miley, on the other hand, was born at the Lincoln Humane Society. Her mother was rescued from a family that used her as a “puppy mill”--and was on her fourth litter of pups. It had been two years since Jordan had passed away and I didn’t care about the circumstances with the pups….I wanted to get another golden retriever to fill the void of losing Jordan; so thirty dollars was spent along with a promise that I would have her spayed--and Miley had a home.
Jordan was very easy to house train. I remember spending a few weeks outside on cold fall nights with my bedroom slippers on and bathrobe walking around the lawn with her saying…”ya gotta go pee?” hoping that she’d catch on. It took a couple of weeks and she did. I took her to obedience classes when she was six months old--she disliked this so much that she chewed up her diploma on the way home from class. I’m sure that Jordan didn’t know what to think when my first child, Tyler, was born in 1999. She sat by my side all hours of the night with her head tilted off to the side whenever he would cry. Tyler learned how to crawl at eight months. Jordan would lie on the floor and he would crawl up on her side and use her to keep his balance. Pretty soon, Katelyn came along in 2000. Jordan had her hands full with lapping the floor from where the baby food spilled from Katelyn, and being Tyler’s buddy when he decided to wander around on the front lawn. Jordan would sit in the lake at camp with the kids for hours on end--and when they finally decided to call it a day…she would, too. She was very protective around my children. If they decided to swim out beyond the wharf when they were eight and nine years old--she would bark nonstop until they came back in closer to her. Jordan would steal a hunk of meatloaf off of your plate if you turned your back from her and she had a bad habit of easily grabbing onto peoples sleeves whenever company would show up. However, I forgot about all of that when she snuggled in bed with me. My heart broke when I found her lifeless on my bedroom floor. I knew that the rust colored fur had turned white--that she had had a hard time “keeping up” with us walking on the camp road one week earlier. It seemed so unfair to see your best friend go just like that--but I often reflect about what a wonderful life she had with us; as we had with her.
Miley was adopted in November of 2008. I remember pacing outside trying to get her to pee and poop for one to two months. She would have good days; and other days would go outside and pee only to come inside and poop in a corner somewhere. She was the typical pup who liked to play and was full of vigor but seemed to have more aggressiveness in her compared to Jordan. She had plenty of dog toys but preferred to chew up the kids sneakers, my socks and personal undergarments, my husbands hats, the kids toys, etc. I cannot leave anything on the sideboard for food or she will jump up and cruise around the sideboard and scoffle down anything that she can find. I have to keep a baby gate against our trash bin or she will dive into it and strew trash throughout the house. She likes to steal the tub of butter off of the kitchen table if left unattended. She will run downstairs where my laundry shoot is and will grab wash cloths and chew holes in the center of them. However, she loves to be with the kids and helps me say goodnight to them each night. She lays on the floor next to my bed and when my husband leaves for work she quickly jumps into bed and snuggles with me--like Jordan used to. Miley will leap out the window of my SUV when we arrive at camp and will dash into the lake with the kids. She will chase down frogs along the shoreline but still keeps a watchful eye on the kids and will hang around the water until they get ready to get out--similar to Jordan.
As you can see, Jordan and Miley are Goldens but their personalities are very different from one another. I know that Miley’s bad habits have been a struggle for me, however, at the end of the road I am sure that I will be just as heartbroken when her life is gone. I will just reflect on the wonderful life she’s had with us; and us with her. I have found my two Goldens to both be faithful companions, the “twenty-four hour babysitters“, the snugglers, the keeper of secrets…..the trusted friend.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Contrast Revision
Hi Mr. Goldfine,
I added the "bridge" about my goldens. I put it underneath the comment section below your suggestion. I will await your comments.
Thanks! Lisa
I added the "bridge" about my goldens. I put it underneath the comment section below your suggestion. I will await your comments.
Thanks! Lisa
I Search
OK....have decided to make the Isearch more about something that I
am personally connected to. So, instead of writing about medical
disease and diagnoses of students...how about.....Isearching about what it
takes to open up a gas station/convenience store. My husband and I own a corner
lot in our small town and we've hashed around the idea of starting a gas
station/lunch counter/convenience store. It's current..I'm connected to it...and I think I could find plenty to talk about.
Let me know if this is ok w/you and I'll roll with my "what and why" tonight and post it.
Thanks,
Lisa
am personally connected to. So, instead of writing about medical
disease and diagnoses of students...how about.....Isearching about what it
takes to open up a gas station/convenience store. My husband and I own a corner
lot in our small town and we've hashed around the idea of starting a gas
station/lunch counter/convenience store. It's current..I'm connected to it...and I think I could find plenty to talk about.
Let me know if this is ok w/you and I'll roll with my "what and why" tonight and post it.
Thanks,
Lisa
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Intro Contrast: Take Two
I'll admit that I'm a golden retriever fanatic. Don't get me wrong; I like all dog species but I just melt whenever I see a golden retriever. I typically will go over and casually say "what a gorgeous dog"--just to sort of feel the owner out to see if it's ok for a stranger to pet their prize possession; then I'll lean over and pat the dog's head. Then, I'll scratch it's back and behind it's ears. I'll carry on a conversation with the owner about my retrievers in an effort to just stay a little longer and socialize with the dog. Jordan was the angel retriever who had a few bad habits in her lifetime that were tolerable. Miley is my domineering retriever who has a lot of bad habits. She certainly tests my sanity on most days.
I Search Background--Take Two!
I Search Background:
When I was young I can recall hearing about older people passing away from cancer and I thought that it was strictly a disease that was meant for elderly people. As a child, I never wondered if it was lung, bone, breast, brain, pancreatic, liver, etc--it was just cancer. I graduated from high school and went on to college for two years and became a Medical Assistant and worked for a Family Practitioner. I saw numerous patients that had cancer and understood the origin of the cancer and where certain cancer cells typically like to metastasize to. I saw many women in our office that were battling breast cancer. Some of the women that I had known had lost their battle with the disease but many others were still going through treatment regimes or were in remission. All of the women that I could recall with the disease were age fifty and over. I knew something was wrong as I was having breast pain. I went to the doctor and was told that it was stress and to return in one month for a follow up. The pain persisted; so I took action and called asking for a mammogram. I was told that mammograms typically don’t pick up on cancers in younger women; so an ultrasound was ordered. The ultrasound was normal. I persisted with the mammogram . I knew something was definitely alarming when the technician came back into the room asking to get more views and stated that “it’s small”. I left the hospital hysterical and an appointment was made with a surgeon. You can imagine how shocked and distressed I was to hear that I, myself, at thirty two years of age--was being told by my surgeon that I did, indeed, have breast cancer. I had a paternal aunt that was currently battling breast cancer; but other than that, there were no other family members that had a history of the disease. Several questions went through my mind: am I going to live?, what were my risk factors for getting the disease?, are there any women under forty in my area that have breast cancer?, what are my treatment options?, what is my risk for recurrence?, what are the chances of my young daughter inheriting the disease when she gets older?. There are many unknowns with any type of cancer--the disease is not “cookbook”. However, I am going to research the above questions and give to you, the reader, or the person whose mother was just diagnosed, the young woman who just found a breast lump and is in turmoil wondering what her next step should be--the most up-to-date information that medical research has to offer.
When I was young I can recall hearing about older people passing away from cancer and I thought that it was strictly a disease that was meant for elderly people. As a child, I never wondered if it was lung, bone, breast, brain, pancreatic, liver, etc--it was just cancer. I graduated from high school and went on to college for two years and became a Medical Assistant and worked for a Family Practitioner. I saw numerous patients that had cancer and understood the origin of the cancer and where certain cancer cells typically like to metastasize to. I saw many women in our office that were battling breast cancer. Some of the women that I had known had lost their battle with the disease but many others were still going through treatment regimes or were in remission. All of the women that I could recall with the disease were age fifty and over. I knew something was wrong as I was having breast pain. I went to the doctor and was told that it was stress and to return in one month for a follow up. The pain persisted; so I took action and called asking for a mammogram. I was told that mammograms typically don’t pick up on cancers in younger women; so an ultrasound was ordered. The ultrasound was normal. I persisted with the mammogram . I knew something was definitely alarming when the technician came back into the room asking to get more views and stated that “it’s small”. I left the hospital hysterical and an appointment was made with a surgeon. You can imagine how shocked and distressed I was to hear that I, myself, at thirty two years of age--was being told by my surgeon that I did, indeed, have breast cancer. I had a paternal aunt that was currently battling breast cancer; but other than that, there were no other family members that had a history of the disease. Several questions went through my mind: am I going to live?, what were my risk factors for getting the disease?, are there any women under forty in my area that have breast cancer?, what are my treatment options?, what is my risk for recurrence?, what are the chances of my young daughter inheriting the disease when she gets older?. There are many unknowns with any type of cancer--the disease is not “cookbook”. However, I am going to research the above questions and give to you, the reader, or the person whose mother was just diagnosed, the young woman who just found a breast lump and is in turmoil wondering what her next step should be--the most up-to-date information that medical research has to offer.
Monday, March 7, 2011
I Search Background
Am I going to die? What stage am I?
Breast cancer--not just a disease for forty and above--and my personal experience with having the disease
Risk factors
How did I get it?
What are my chances of recurrence?
What are my treatment options?
What issues do young women face with being diagnosed with breast cancer?
I want to meet someone my age that has survived with the disease
Do I need chemotherapy and radiation?
Genetic testing? What are the chances that my daughter will get the disease?
What programs are out there for women who can’t afford mammograms?
Awareness
Breast cancer--not just a disease for forty and above--and my personal experience with having the disease
Risk factors
How did I get it?
What are my chances of recurrence?
What are my treatment options?
What issues do young women face with being diagnosed with breast cancer?
I want to meet someone my age that has survived with the disease
Do I need chemotherapy and radiation?
Genetic testing? What are the chances that my daughter will get the disease?
What programs are out there for women who can’t afford mammograms?
Awareness
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Intro Contrast Essay
Intro Contrast Essay:
I adore golden retrievers. There is just something magnetic about their personalities that makes me want to run to every one that I see; whether it be in a car at the Mall or inside a pet store. I have never been fearful towards the breed and find them to be an overall great dog that is trustworthy around small children. However, I have owned two golden retrievers in my lifetime and can definitely see huge differences between the two dogs that I have raised with my family.
I adore golden retrievers. There is just something magnetic about their personalities that makes me want to run to every one that I see; whether it be in a car at the Mall or inside a pet store. I have never been fearful towards the breed and find them to be an overall great dog that is trustworthy around small children. However, I have owned two golden retrievers in my lifetime and can definitely see huge differences between the two dogs that I have raised with my family.
Baked, Mashed or Fried?
My husband, my two children and I are at one of most favorite restaurants. This restaurant is located in Linneus and we usually eat there two to three times a year. The restaurant is simply called “Grandmas”. It’s a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant in the middle of nowhere that attracts patrons from miles around because of the huge portions that they serve. The waitress comes to our table to take our order. “Would you like baked, mashed or fries with your broiled scallops?” “Baked, mashed, or fries…..baked, mashed, or fries”, I ask myself. Suddenly, I go back to my younger years and reminisce about the memories that come to mind when I think of baked, mashed or fries.
I’m sitting at the kitchen table struggling with my algebra homework while mom is getting supper ready. I can see the baked potatoes wrapped in aluminum foil on the rack of the oven and mom is trying to get ahold of my father on his cell phone to see what time he’ll be home from hauling wood. She declares that it’s best to eat baked potatoes when they are fresh from the oven vs. reheating. She finally gets in touch with him and throws two or three potatoes in a bowl in the oven, turns it on “warm” and declares..”it never fails..whenever I bake potatoes your father is always late for supper.” This continues to be an omen in the family--dad is still always late for supper whenever mom bakes potatoes.
My sister and I are sitting at the kitchen table eating supper with our parents. My sister is in fourth grade and her top “eye” teeth haven’t come through yet but she has her permanent top front teeth. Mom serves us some mashed potato along with steak and vegetables. My sister gives me the “look” and suddenly her two “eye” tooth holes become an automatic Play-Doh factory. She squirts the mashed potato out of the holes and they stream out of her mouth back like two thick pieces of spaghetti into her plate. My mother was totally disgusted; and of course, tried to reprimand us. We sure were bummed out when her permanent “eye” teeth came through. I often think of that memory when my two children are acting out at the supper table.
French fries…stringy, soggy with vinegar. We eat them while walking along the strip at Old Orchard Beach after spending a hot day at the ocean. Crisp, slender French fries….I remember going to JJ Newberry’s lunch counter with my Nana when I was little and eating a hotdog with French fries. There were numerous conversations at the lunch counter with Nana that I dearly miss the conversations that were discussed while eating those crisp, slender French fries. Short, wide, steak fries that used to be served at the “Rose Bowl” restaurant in Lincoln. I remember going there on Christmas Eve for dinner with my parents, sister, Nana, my cousin and her husband. I must have been eight years old and was anxiously awaiting the arrival of Santa Claus. It was a magical evening--everyone was happy, eating dinner, that was one of the best evenings of my life that I can remember as a child. I can’t remember what else I had to eat that evening but do remember the homemade steak fries.
I suddenly snapped out of the flashback of all of the fond memories that I have experienced being surrounded by family. I looked at my family and smiled. I realized that “baked, mashed or friend” has been incorporated in most of the best memories of my life. Oh, sure, we all feel this way whenever we think about Christmas or Thanksgiving--we visualize a ham or turkey sitting on the table but sometimes the biggest and best things in life aren’t the hams or turkeys. Sometimes the best conversations and memories happen over small side dishes; such as baked, mashed or fried.
My husband, my two children and I are at one of most favorite restaurants. This restaurant is located in Linneus and we usually eat there two to three times a year. The restaurant is simply called “Grandmas”. It’s a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant in the middle of nowhere that attracts patrons from miles around because of the huge portions that they serve. The waitress comes to our table to take our order. “Would you like baked, mashed or fries with your broiled scallops?” “Baked, mashed, or fries…..baked, mashed, or fries”, I ask myself. Suddenly, I go back to my younger years and reminisce about the memories that come to mind when I think of baked, mashed or fries.
I’m sitting at the kitchen table struggling with my algebra homework while mom is getting supper ready. I can see the baked potatoes wrapped in aluminum foil on the rack of the oven and mom is trying to get ahold of my father on his cell phone to see what time he’ll be home from hauling wood. She declares that it’s best to eat baked potatoes when they are fresh from the oven vs. reheating. She finally gets in touch with him and throws two or three potatoes in a bowl in the oven, turns it on “warm” and declares..”it never fails..whenever I bake potatoes your father is always late for supper.” This continues to be an omen in the family--dad is still always late for supper whenever mom bakes potatoes.
My sister and I are sitting at the kitchen table eating supper with our parents. My sister is in fourth grade and her top “eye” teeth haven’t come through yet but she has her permanent top front teeth. Mom serves us some mashed potato along with steak and vegetables. My sister gives me the “look” and suddenly her two “eye” tooth holes become an automatic Play-Doh factory. She squirts the mashed potato out of the holes and they stream out of her mouth back like two thick pieces of spaghetti into her plate. My mother was totally disgusted; and of course, tried to reprimand us. We sure were bummed out when her permanent “eye” teeth came through. I often think of that memory when my two children are acting out at the supper table.
French fries…stringy, soggy with vinegar. We eat them while walking along the strip at Old Orchard Beach after spending a hot day at the ocean. Crisp, slender French fries….I remember going to JJ Newberry’s lunch counter with my Nana when I was little and eating a hotdog with French fries. There were numerous conversations at the lunch counter with Nana that I dearly miss the conversations that were discussed while eating those crisp, slender French fries. Short, wide, steak fries that used to be served at the “Rose Bowl” restaurant in Lincoln. I remember going there on Christmas Eve for dinner with my parents, sister, Nana, my cousin and her husband. I must have been eight years old and was anxiously awaiting the arrival of Santa Claus. It was a magical evening--everyone was happy, eating dinner, that was one of the best evenings of my life that I can remember as a child. I can’t remember what else I had to eat that evening but do remember the homemade steak fries.
I suddenly snapped out of the flashback of all of the fond memories that I have experienced being surrounded by family. I looked at my family and smiled. I realized that “baked, mashed or friend” has been incorporated in most of the best memories of my life. Oh, sure, we all feel this way whenever we think about Christmas or Thanksgiving--we visualize a ham or turkey sitting on the table but sometimes the biggest and best things in life aren’t the hams or turkeys. Sometimes the best conversations and memories happen over small side dishes; such as baked, mashed or fried.
Mr. Goldfine,
I'm frustrated. I'm using Microsoft Word (as I've done in all of my assignments). When I preview the post the paragraphs are all separated out and there are five. When I publish it and look at it it's one huge paragraph. Obviously, once it's posted I can't edit the post and when I try to go into comments and choose edit for that post...I can't edit anything. If you want..I can retype the whole thing straight on the blogger and post it--I just don't want technical issues screwing up my assignment grade.
Yes, you can use this piece for future reference. I agree so very much--the topic didn't really mean anything--I struggled with it...but went with the "memories" that came to mind when I look at baked, mashed or fried. I know that it's really not what you wanted...but I had a timeframe to get it done and I spent a lot of time "running with it"--but did find it enjoybable to do! You had also mentioned early on about using my first freestyle called "Hands" to put in the literary magazine. How do I do that?
Now I'm stressing over "contrast" and what I'm going to run with for a topic. I'll try to stay "focused" on that assignment.
**I, also, was looking over the assignment paper that I downloaded for our course and it mentions "9 long essays" along with freestyles and graf assignments. Have we done any long essays yet?--I'm lost!!
Thanks,
Lisa :)
I'm frustrated. I'm using Microsoft Word (as I've done in all of my assignments). When I preview the post the paragraphs are all separated out and there are five. When I publish it and look at it it's one huge paragraph. Obviously, once it's posted I can't edit the post and when I try to go into comments and choose edit for that post...I can't edit anything. If you want..I can retype the whole thing straight on the blogger and post it--I just don't want technical issues screwing up my assignment grade.
Yes, you can use this piece for future reference. I agree so very much--the topic didn't really mean anything--I struggled with it...but went with the "memories" that came to mind when I look at baked, mashed or fried. I know that it's really not what you wanted...but I had a timeframe to get it done and I spent a lot of time "running with it"--but did find it enjoybable to do! You had also mentioned early on about using my first freestyle called "Hands" to put in the literary magazine. How do I do that?
Now I'm stressing over "contrast" and what I'm going to run with for a topic. I'll try to stay "focused" on that assignment.
**I, also, was looking over the assignment paper that I downloaded for our course and it mentions "9 long essays" along with freestyles and graf assignments. Have we done any long essays yet?--I'm lost!!
Thanks,
Lisa :)
Classification Essay Repost
Baked, Mashed or Fried?
My husband, my two children and I are at one of most favorite restaurants. This restaurant is located in Linneus and we usually eat there two to three times a year. The restaurant is simply called “Grandmas”. It’s a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant in the middle of nowhere that attracts patrons from miles around because of the huge portions that they serve. The waitress comes to our table to take our order. “Would you like baked, mashed or fries with your broiled scallops?” “Baked, mashed, or fries…..baked, mashed, or fries”, I ask myself. Suddenly, I go back to my younger years and reminisce about the memories that come to mind when I think of baked, mashed or fries.
I’m sitting at the kitchen table struggling with my algebra homework while mom is getting supper ready. I can see the baked potatoes wrapped in aluminum foil on the rack of the oven and mom is trying to get ahold of my father on his cell phone to see what time he’ll be home from hauling wood. She declares that it’s best to eat baked potatoes when they are fresh from the oven vs. reheating. She finally gets in touch with him and throws two or three potatoes in a bowl in the oven, turns it on “warm” and declares..”it never fails..whenever I bake potatoes your father is always late for supper.” This continues to be an omen in the family--dad is still always late for supper whenever mom bakes potatoes.
My sister and I are sitting at the kitchen table eating supper with our parents. My sister is in fourth grade and her top “eye” teeth haven’t come through yet but she has her permanent top front teeth. Mom serves us some mashed potato along with steak and vegetables. My sister gives me the “look” and suddenly her two “eye” tooth holes become an automatic Play-Doh factory. She squirts the mashed potato out of the holes and they stream out of her mouth back like two thick pieces of spaghetti into her plate. My mother was totally disgusted; and of course, tried to reprimand us. We sure were bummed out when her permanent “eye” teeth came through. I often think of that memory when my two children are acting out at the supper table.
French fries…stringy, soggy with vinegar. We eat them while walking along the strip at Old Orchard Beach after spending a hot day at the ocean. Crisp, slender French fries….I remember going to JJ Newberry’s lunch counter with my Nana when I was little and eating a hotdog with French fries. There were numerous conversations at the lunch counter with Nana that I dearly miss that were discussed while eating those crisp, slender French fries. Short, wide, steak fries that used to be served at the “Rose Bowl” restaurant in Lincoln. I remember going there on Christmas Eve for dinner with my parents, sister, Nana, my cousin and her husband. I must have been eight years old and was anxiously awaiting the arrival of Santa Claus. It was a magical evening--everyone was happy, eating dinner, that was one of the best evenings of my life that I can remember as a child. I can’t remember what else I had to eat that evening but do remember the homemade steak fries.
I suddenly snapped out of the flashback of all of the fond memories that I have experienced being surrounded by family. I looked at my family and smiled. I realized that “baked, mashed or friend” has been incorporated in most of the best memories of my life. Oh, sure, we all feel this way whenever we think about Christmas or Thanksgiving--we visualize a ham or turkey sitting on the table but sometimes the biggest and best things in life aren’t the hams or turkeys. Sometimes the best conversations and memories happen over small side dishes; such as baked, mashed or fried.
My husband, my two children and I are at one of most favorite restaurants. This restaurant is located in Linneus and we usually eat there two to three times a year. The restaurant is simply called “Grandmas”. It’s a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant in the middle of nowhere that attracts patrons from miles around because of the huge portions that they serve. The waitress comes to our table to take our order. “Would you like baked, mashed or fries with your broiled scallops?” “Baked, mashed, or fries…..baked, mashed, or fries”, I ask myself. Suddenly, I go back to my younger years and reminisce about the memories that come to mind when I think of baked, mashed or fries.
I’m sitting at the kitchen table struggling with my algebra homework while mom is getting supper ready. I can see the baked potatoes wrapped in aluminum foil on the rack of the oven and mom is trying to get ahold of my father on his cell phone to see what time he’ll be home from hauling wood. She declares that it’s best to eat baked potatoes when they are fresh from the oven vs. reheating. She finally gets in touch with him and throws two or three potatoes in a bowl in the oven, turns it on “warm” and declares..”it never fails..whenever I bake potatoes your father is always late for supper.” This continues to be an omen in the family--dad is still always late for supper whenever mom bakes potatoes.
My sister and I are sitting at the kitchen table eating supper with our parents. My sister is in fourth grade and her top “eye” teeth haven’t come through yet but she has her permanent top front teeth. Mom serves us some mashed potato along with steak and vegetables. My sister gives me the “look” and suddenly her two “eye” tooth holes become an automatic Play-Doh factory. She squirts the mashed potato out of the holes and they stream out of her mouth back like two thick pieces of spaghetti into her plate. My mother was totally disgusted; and of course, tried to reprimand us. We sure were bummed out when her permanent “eye” teeth came through. I often think of that memory when my two children are acting out at the supper table.
French fries…stringy, soggy with vinegar. We eat them while walking along the strip at Old Orchard Beach after spending a hot day at the ocean. Crisp, slender French fries….I remember going to JJ Newberry’s lunch counter with my Nana when I was little and eating a hotdog with French fries. There were numerous conversations at the lunch counter with Nana that I dearly miss that were discussed while eating those crisp, slender French fries. Short, wide, steak fries that used to be served at the “Rose Bowl” restaurant in Lincoln. I remember going there on Christmas Eve for dinner with my parents, sister, Nana, my cousin and her husband. I must have been eight years old and was anxiously awaiting the arrival of Santa Claus. It was a magical evening--everyone was happy, eating dinner, that was one of the best evenings of my life that I can remember as a child. I can’t remember what else I had to eat that evening but do remember the homemade steak fries.
I suddenly snapped out of the flashback of all of the fond memories that I have experienced being surrounded by family. I looked at my family and smiled. I realized that “baked, mashed or friend” has been incorporated in most of the best memories of my life. Oh, sure, we all feel this way whenever we think about Christmas or Thanksgiving--we visualize a ham or turkey sitting on the table but sometimes the biggest and best things in life aren’t the hams or turkeys. Sometimes the best conversations and memories happen over small side dishes; such as baked, mashed or fried.
Friday, March 4, 2011
Mr. Goldfine,
I previewed my post on classification and all of the paragraphs are separated out--and when i go back to look at it the paragraphs are still five paragraphs. However, when i post it it's one long paragraph. I dont know how to go in and edit it; as when I try to do this it looks normal.
The 2nd paragraph should start 7th line down with "I'm sitting"
The 3rd paragraph should start 16 lines down with "my sister and I"
The last paragraph shoudl start 25 line down with "French fries, stringy, soggy"
I'm sorry about this--all of my other pieces have posted appropriately.
Do you have any ideas?
Thanks,
Lisa
Classification Essay --Baked, Mashed or Fried?
My husband, my two children and I are at one of most favorite restaurants. This restaurant is located in Linneus and we usually eat there two to three times a year. The restaurant is simply called “Grandmas”. It’s a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant in the middle of nowhere that attracts patrons from miles around because of the huge portions that they serve. The waitress comes to our table to take our order. “Would you like baked, mashed or fries with your broiled scallops?” “Baked, mashed, or fries…..baked, mashed, or fries”, I ask myself. Suddenly, I go back to my younger years and reminisce about the memories that come to mind when I think of baked, mashed or fries.
I’m sitting at the kitchen table struggling with my algebra homework while mom is getting supper ready. I can see the baked potatoes wrapped in aluminum foil on the rack of the oven and mom is trying to get ahold of my father on his cell phone to see what time he’ll be home from hauling wood. She declares that it’s best to eat baked potatoes when they are fresh from the oven vs. reheating. She finally gets in touch with him and throws two or three potatoes in a bowl in the oven, turns it on “warm” and declares..”it never fails..whenever I bake potatoes your father is always late for supper.” This continues to be an omen in the family--dad is still always late for supper whenever mom bakes potatoes.
My sister and I are sitting at the kitchen table eating supper with our parents. My sister is in fourth grade and her top “eye” teeth haven’t come through yet but she has her permanent top front teeth. Mom serves us some mashed potato along with steak and vegetables. My sister gives me the “look” and suddenly her two “eye” tooth holes become an automatic Play-Doh factory. She squirts the mashed potato out of the holes and they stream out of her mouth back like two thick pieces of spaghetti into her plate. My mother was totally disgusted; and of course, tried to reprimand us. We sure were bummed out when her permanent “eye” teeth came through. I often think of that memory when my two children are acting out at the supper table.
French fries…stringy, soggy with vinegar. We eat them while walking along the strip at Old Orchard Beach after spending a hot day at the ocean. Crisp, slender French fries….I remember going to JJ Newberry’s lunch counter with my Nana when I was little and eating a hotdog with French fries. There were numerous conversations at the lunch counter with Nana that I dearly miss that were discussed while eating those crisp, slender French fries. Short, wide, steak fries that used to be served at the “Rose Bowl” restaurant in Lincoln. I remember going there on Christmas Eve for dinner with my parents, sister, Nana, my cousin and her husband. I must have been eight years old and was anxiously awaiting the arrival of Santa Claus. It was a magical evening--everyone was happy, eating dinner, that was one of the best evenings of my life that I can remember as a child. I can’t remember what else I had to eat that evening but do remember the homemade steak fries.
I suddenly snapped out of the flashback of all of the fond memories that I have experienced being surrounded by family. I looked at my family and smiled. I realized that “baked, mashed or friend” has been incorporated in most of the best memories of my life. Oh, sure, we all feel this way whenever we think about Christmas or Thanksgiving--we visualize a ham or turkey sitting on the table but sometimes the biggest and best things in life aren’t the hams or turkeys. Sometimes the best conversations and memories happen over small side dishes; such as baked, mashed or fried.
I’m sitting at the kitchen table struggling with my algebra homework while mom is getting supper ready. I can see the baked potatoes wrapped in aluminum foil on the rack of the oven and mom is trying to get ahold of my father on his cell phone to see what time he’ll be home from hauling wood. She declares that it’s best to eat baked potatoes when they are fresh from the oven vs. reheating. She finally gets in touch with him and throws two or three potatoes in a bowl in the oven, turns it on “warm” and declares..”it never fails..whenever I bake potatoes your father is always late for supper.” This continues to be an omen in the family--dad is still always late for supper whenever mom bakes potatoes.
My sister and I are sitting at the kitchen table eating supper with our parents. My sister is in fourth grade and her top “eye” teeth haven’t come through yet but she has her permanent top front teeth. Mom serves us some mashed potato along with steak and vegetables. My sister gives me the “look” and suddenly her two “eye” tooth holes become an automatic Play-Doh factory. She squirts the mashed potato out of the holes and they stream out of her mouth back like two thick pieces of spaghetti into her plate. My mother was totally disgusted; and of course, tried to reprimand us. We sure were bummed out when her permanent “eye” teeth came through. I often think of that memory when my two children are acting out at the supper table.
French fries…stringy, soggy with vinegar. We eat them while walking along the strip at Old Orchard Beach after spending a hot day at the ocean. Crisp, slender French fries….I remember going to JJ Newberry’s lunch counter with my Nana when I was little and eating a hotdog with French fries. There were numerous conversations at the lunch counter with Nana that I dearly miss that were discussed while eating those crisp, slender French fries. Short, wide, steak fries that used to be served at the “Rose Bowl” restaurant in Lincoln. I remember going there on Christmas Eve for dinner with my parents, sister, Nana, my cousin and her husband. I must have been eight years old and was anxiously awaiting the arrival of Santa Claus. It was a magical evening--everyone was happy, eating dinner, that was one of the best evenings of my life that I can remember as a child. I can’t remember what else I had to eat that evening but do remember the homemade steak fries.
I suddenly snapped out of the flashback of all of the fond memories that I have experienced being surrounded by family. I looked at my family and smiled. I realized that “baked, mashed or friend” has been incorporated in most of the best memories of my life. Oh, sure, we all feel this way whenever we think about Christmas or Thanksgiving--we visualize a ham or turkey sitting on the table but sometimes the biggest and best things in life aren’t the hams or turkeys. Sometimes the best conversations and memories happen over small side dishes; such as baked, mashed or fried.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Outro Classification Essay
Outro:
I suddenly snapped out of my flashback of all of the fond memories that I have experienced being surrounded by family, friends, holidays, vacations, and the day-to-day activities of everyday life. I looked at my husband and children and smiled. I realized that “baked, mashed or fried” is incorporated in most of the best memories of my life. Oh, sure, we all feel this way whenever we think about Christmas or Thanksgiving—we visualize a ham or turkey. However, “baked, mashed, or fried” remains a constant that I can visualize on the plate of my life.
Classification Intro comment
Mr. Goldfine,
I'm going to stick with baked, mashed or fried for my topic. I'm going to talk about the happy times that I've associated with in my lifetime that evolve around baked, mashed or fried. I hope this is ok to do; and is what you are looking for.
I await your comments!
Thanks,
Lisa
I'm going to stick with baked, mashed or fried for my topic. I'm going to talk about the happy times that I've associated with in my lifetime that evolve around baked, mashed or fried. I hope this is ok to do; and is what you are looking for.
I await your comments!
Thanks,
Lisa
Monday, February 28, 2011
Classification Intro 1
Hi Mr. Goldfine,
As usual, I read too much into the assignment and can't figure out how to delete my 2nd Intro that I posted. I did classification Intro's on two different subjects.
Please take Intro 1 about snowmobiling and I will await your comment--and then proceed.
Thanks!
Lisa
As usual, I read too much into the assignment and can't figure out how to delete my 2nd Intro that I posted. I did classification Intro's on two different subjects.
Please take Intro 1 about snowmobiling and I will await your comment--and then proceed.
Thanks!
Lisa
Classification Intro 1 & 2
Classification Intro 1:
I’m relaxing in the recliner, sipping on my hazelnut coffee, listening to the morning news. Kevin Mannix is reporting sunny and in the thirties for Monday, occasional snow showers for Tuesday, cold and in the low teens for Wednesday. My husband and I have planned on taking off on our snowsleds one day this week leaving from Millinocket going to Kokadjo. This is typically a six hour round trip drive and I’m debating on which day will be ideal for snowmobiling. The conditions have to be right if I’m going to be out on a busy trail for six hours. I take another sip of coffee and ponder over which day would be the best for snowsledding that distance.
Classification Intro 2:
My husband, my two children and I are at one of most favorite restaurants. This restaurant is located in Linneus and we usually eat there two to three times a year. The restaurant is simply called “Grandmas”. It’s a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant in the middle of nowhere that attracts patrons from miles around because of the huge portions that they serve. The waitress comes to our table to take our order. “Would you like baked, mashed or fries with your broiled scallops?” “Baked, mashed, or fries…..baked, mashed, or fries”, I ask myself. This is a popular question at most restaurants that I’ve frequented over the years. I’ve heard it at “Bugaboo”, “Texas Roadhouse”, “Governors”, “DiMillos”, etc. I wonder which option is the healthiest for a middle-aged woman like me.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Meta Graf Essay
My meta graph took me about one hour to write from start to finish. I thought that I had to sit down and type up the entire 5 graf essay all in one evening; so I poured myself a glass of Diet Coke, made sure my kiddos were all set with their homework, the dogs were fed, and made sure that the laundry machine was working, and settled into my office to ponder about what I was going to use for a 5 graf essay topic.
I stared out my back window at the huge pine that I have on my back lawn. The pine is actually two trees that converge into one massive trunk. The way that the tree separates into two is goregous and I often find myself staring at that tree whenever I'm working in the office.
I tried to think of a situation that arose in my teenage years that would require three paragraphs explaining an incident that I could write about. I immediately thought of the Mustang that my sister had and how I ended up driving it home on a camp road in the summertime, lost control of the car as my sister and I were laughing while watching through the rearview mirror at the dust we was making, hitting a mailbox; thus, causing a dent in the fender of the car.
The second intro essay that I did which talked about taking my son into the old barn where the Mustang was stored never actually happened. I thought of an old barn that is in a huge field about 5 miles from my house and visualized myself walking through that field towards that old barn with my son when I wrote the intro.
I put a lot of thought into the essay after quickly finding a topic. I particularly didn't care about the description of the dent and scratch in the fender that I had put in Intro #2; and probably would leave that out if I were to redo it.
You had stated that you would take that essay as my first Graf 5 assignment; as I jumped ahead and read more into the assignment than what was required.
Thanks!
I stared out my back window at the huge pine that I have on my back lawn. The pine is actually two trees that converge into one massive trunk. The way that the tree separates into two is goregous and I often find myself staring at that tree whenever I'm working in the office.
I tried to think of a situation that arose in my teenage years that would require three paragraphs explaining an incident that I could write about. I immediately thought of the Mustang that my sister had and how I ended up driving it home on a camp road in the summertime, lost control of the car as my sister and I were laughing while watching through the rearview mirror at the dust we was making, hitting a mailbox; thus, causing a dent in the fender of the car.
The second intro essay that I did which talked about taking my son into the old barn where the Mustang was stored never actually happened. I thought of an old barn that is in a huge field about 5 miles from my house and visualized myself walking through that field towards that old barn with my son when I wrote the intro.
I put a lot of thought into the essay after quickly finding a topic. I particularly didn't care about the description of the dent and scratch in the fender that I had put in Intro #2; and probably would leave that out if I were to redo it.
You had stated that you would take that essay as my first Graf 5 assignment; as I jumped ahead and read more into the assignment than what was required.
Thanks!
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Week 5 Freestyle "Boston Celtics"
My two kids love basketball! My son plays on the fifth/sixth grade travel team and my daughter is on the third/fourth Rec. team. My son is a die-hard Celtic fan; and my daughter is a Laker fan. We have watched almost all of the Celtic games on TV this year. I received a flyer back in October for a day trip to see the “Celtics vs. Miami Heat” on February 13. So, I purchased four tickets for my family as a Christmas present—to sort of “top off” the basketball season.
I have never been to an NBA game before; so I had no idea what to expect. We walked into TD Banknorth and took the kids into the “NBA Store” to get a game jersey, foam finger, and a Celtic hat. My daughter even got a Paul Pierce jersey despite being a Kobe Bryant fan! We went up the escalator to the second floor. There it was! I looked down a short corridor and there was the court! My two kids and husband went down courtside and got some pictures of the players as they warmed up. The atmosphere was electrifying!
It was absolutely breathtaking to see Kevin Garnett, Paul Pierce, Rajon Rondo, and, of course, the newly crowned three point champion Ray Allen out on the court warming up!
The game against the “Heat” was very heated to say the least. Rajon Rondo was guarding LeBron James. It seemed like an uneven match but Rondo “held his own” against him. The crowd went crazy every time Ray Allen fired up a three pointer! The last ten seconds of the game was a “nailbiter”. Boston was ahead by three points. Miami
It sure was a moment that I know I’ll never forget! It’s nice living in the country; but it sure would be awesome to live closer to TD Banknorth!
Monday, February 14, 2011
Graf 8 Reaction to Cause Essays
I particularly liked the essay titled "Bread Making". The first paragraph is supposed to "hook" the reader and my mouth was watering and I could actually smell bread baking! I felt as if I was in the writers kitchen with her baking bread. She had a great introduction, lots of supporting details, and had a great summary in final paragraph.
I also enjoyed reading the cause and effect essay entitled "Flooded Basement". The first paragraph hooked
the reader on the tragedy of having severe rains and the result of having water damage to your basement and all of the loopholes that you have to jump through with insurance companies, etc to get the damage fixed and reimbursement for the damages.
These essays gave me a good idea of what is required to write an outstanding essay.
I also enjoyed reading the cause and effect essay entitled "Flooded Basement". The first paragraph hooked
the reader on the tragedy of having severe rains and the result of having water damage to your basement and all of the loopholes that you have to jump through with insurance companies, etc to get the damage fixed and reimbursement for the damages.
These essays gave me a good idea of what is required to write an outstanding essay.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Mr. Goldfine,
I think I jumped ahead a little. I was confused about the assignment/due dates. So, I went ahead and did a 5 graf essay. Then I rewrote paragraph one about the car in the barn as a 2nd introduction to the essay. I guess the total 5 graf essay isn't due until next week. Correct me if I'm wrong....but I think I'm "ahead of the game".
It appears that you wanted this done in segments . Oops.
Thanks,
Lisa
I think I jumped ahead a little. I was confused about the assignment/due dates. So, I went ahead and did a 5 graf essay. Then I rewrote paragraph one about the car in the barn as a 2nd introduction to the essay. I guess the total 5 graf essay isn't due until next week. Correct me if I'm wrong....but I think I'm "ahead of the game".
It appears that you wanted this done in segments . Oops.
Thanks,
Lisa
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Week 4 2nd Introduction
Week #4
Intro #2:
The old barn is over seventy years old and is leaning to the left. One of the old six pane windows is smashed out from an apple branch that hit it in the last hale storm. My son and I made our way through the field. Tyler slid the plank out of the holder and pulled the two rickity doors open. I took one side of the tarp while he took the other. The dust started to fly and I started to sneeze. Suddenly, time stood still and the memories came back to life. Tyler’s jaw hit the floor and his eyes were gleaming. He dropped his Ipod. It was my old Mustang that I drove around in when I was sixteen. The left fender had a dent in it and the left bumper had a scratch across it. The car had seen better days; that’s for sure! Tyler said, “Mom, what’s the story behind the dent?” Surely, I had to tell him.
Intro #2:
The old barn is over seventy years old and is leaning to the left. One of the old six pane windows is smashed out from an apple branch that hit it in the last hale storm. My son and I made our way through the field. Tyler slid the plank out of the holder and pulled the two rickity doors open. I took one side of the tarp while he took the other. The dust started to fly and I started to sneeze. Suddenly, time stood still and the memories came back to life. Tyler’s jaw hit the floor and his eyes were gleaming. He dropped his Ipod. It was my old Mustang that I drove around in when I was sixteen. The left fender had a dent in it and the left bumper had a scratch across it. The car had seen better days; that’s for sure! Tyler said, “Mom, what’s the story behind the dent?” Surely, I had to tell him.
Week 4 5 Graf essay
“It’s your car…you have to tell him!” “No, you were driving it…you have to tell him”. The conversation went back and forth for about fifteen miles until we got back into town. Regardless, Dad would see the dent in my sisters Mustang the minute that we pulled in the driveway; so one of us had to tell him about the “incident”. We both had our licenses and were allowed to drive with passengers in the vehicle. Did we have to report it to the police? Were we supposed to call the insurance company? What about the mailbox that we ran over? Was that considered to be “leaving the scene of an accident?” Did we break federal violations? It all happened so fast that I’m really not sure what caused me to lose control of the car. It certainly was not going to be because I was driving carelessly.
We had spent the whole day at the beach. I always get light-headed if I spend the entire day out in the hot summer sun. Could the reason for the crash be that I had sun stroke, got disoriented and lost control of the car?
The road was privately maintained and was full of potholes the size of craters. I just remember my sister and I laughing while looking through the rearview mirror at all of the dust we were making. We sure thought we were on the “Dukes of Hazzard” blazing our way down over the steep gravel hill. Perhaps I struck a pothole which caused the car to spiral out of control down the hill. Sure…that was it!
I had a tendency to drive fast, do doughnuts and squeal my brakes and act inappropriately with my defensive driving skills. “No..this isn’t what happened”--I told myself. I had to convince myself and my sister that this “episode” was not based on my reckless actions because if Dad found out the truth he would be very disappointed.
The old saying “the truth hurts“ is so very true. My father stared at the car for a minute and looked at us with that paternal “I know you’re telling me stories” look on his face. I almost thought that I would be able to convince him that the cause for the car veering off the road was because of something else--not from driver inattention. How could he possibly know what I was doing in another town fifteen miles away? He looked at me and said “I know exactly what happened. You were going twenty miles faster than you should have been and you got over in the loose dirt and lost control of the car--that‘s what happened.” The truth sure hurt at that moment. That was the end of the discussion and I never drove recklessly on a dirt road ever again!
We had spent the whole day at the beach. I always get light-headed if I spend the entire day out in the hot summer sun. Could the reason for the crash be that I had sun stroke, got disoriented and lost control of the car?
The road was privately maintained and was full of potholes the size of craters. I just remember my sister and I laughing while looking through the rearview mirror at all of the dust we were making. We sure thought we were on the “Dukes of Hazzard” blazing our way down over the steep gravel hill. Perhaps I struck a pothole which caused the car to spiral out of control down the hill. Sure…that was it!
I had a tendency to drive fast, do doughnuts and squeal my brakes and act inappropriately with my defensive driving skills. “No..this isn’t what happened”--I told myself. I had to convince myself and my sister that this “episode” was not based on my reckless actions because if Dad found out the truth he would be very disappointed.
The old saying “the truth hurts“ is so very true. My father stared at the car for a minute and looked at us with that paternal “I know you’re telling me stories” look on his face. I almost thought that I would be able to convince him that the cause for the car veering off the road was because of something else--not from driver inattention. How could he possibly know what I was doing in another town fifteen miles away? He looked at me and said “I know exactly what happened. You were going twenty miles faster than you should have been and you got over in the loose dirt and lost control of the car--that‘s what happened.” The truth sure hurt at that moment. That was the end of the discussion and I never drove recklessly on a dirt road ever again!
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
I search rough ideas week 4
This is just a rough draft of what I've sketched down about my Isearch topic:
I want to focus on symptoms, risk factors, diagnosis, treatment options, fertility issues and screening tools associated with women age 40 and below that are diagnosed with breast cancer.
Risk factors: obesity, alcohol consumption, family history, environmental/chemical, estrogen
Screening: breast self exam
Further tests if lump is felt: ultrasound/mammogram
What if there is no lump but symptoms? Drainage from nipple, nipple pain, redness, orange peel appearance
Diagnosis: tumor, grade, size, location, lymph node status, Her2Neu, estrogen receptor status
Various types of Breast Ca
Treatment: mastectomy, lumpectomy...chemo/radiation. ?radiation prior to surgery for some patients
?Do I need a mastectomy?
Physical and emotional issues surrounding being diagnosed at early age.
Survival rates
Do I need to have radiation if I have lumpectomy only? Do I need radiation if i've had mastectomy
Awareness: research stats if women under 40 living with breast Ca
Maine Breast and Cervical Foundation: free or low cost mammograms
I want to focus on symptoms, risk factors, diagnosis, treatment options, fertility issues and screening tools associated with women age 40 and below that are diagnosed with breast cancer.
Risk factors: obesity, alcohol consumption, family history, environmental/chemical, estrogen
Screening: breast self exam
Further tests if lump is felt: ultrasound/mammogram
What if there is no lump but symptoms? Drainage from nipple, nipple pain, redness, orange peel appearance
Diagnosis: tumor, grade, size, location, lymph node status, Her2Neu, estrogen receptor status
Various types of Breast Ca
Treatment: mastectomy, lumpectomy...chemo/radiation. ?radiation prior to surgery for some patients
?Do I need a mastectomy?
Physical and emotional issues surrounding being diagnosed at early age.
Survival rates
Do I need to have radiation if I have lumpectomy only? Do I need radiation if i've had mastectomy
Awareness: research stats if women under 40 living with breast Ca
Maine Breast and Cervical Foundation: free or low cost mammograms
Monday, February 7, 2011
I search topic follow up
Hey Mr. Goldfine,
I will promote public advocacy with my breast cancer topic. I will keep my personal
experiences with the disease out of the topic of discussion.
I just realized that I didn't respond to this post.
Thanks for your thoughts. They were helpful!
:)
I will promote public advocacy with my breast cancer topic. I will keep my personal
experiences with the disease out of the topic of discussion.
I just realized that I didn't respond to this post.
Thanks for your thoughts. They were helpful!
:)
Graf 6 Follow up
Oops....that didn't sound good! What I meant to say is that I like to have a subject given to me to just take off and run with. Those papers seem to work well with my imagination. I guess I'd better "buckle down" on this one!!
Graf 7 follow up
Mr. Goldfine,
I think that my closing paragraph could have been better. I'm going with that as being my weakest paragraph of the three.
I think that my closing paragraph could have been better. I'm going with that as being my weakest paragraph of the three.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Graf #6
Graf #6
I can already tell that my Isearch paper is going to be a challenge for me. I like to write without having to give my writing style/content much thought. I like my writing to be free-flowing; whereas, the Isearch paper is going to take research to pull together. It’s “cookbook”. It already took me two days just to figure out what my topic is going to be; and I’m still not very convinced that this is the topic “for me”--even though I have a personal connection to the topic that I chose.
I read the Isearch papers that were on the course blog. I read about “how to shingle a roof” and “should my family get a dog?” None of the topics particularly interested me but I at least have an idea of the format/layout of how the paper is supposed to be typed.
I don’t think this is going to be one of my most favorite assignments. I hope I can “pull it off” and will give it 100% effort.
I can already tell that my Isearch paper is going to be a challenge for me. I like to write without having to give my writing style/content much thought. I like my writing to be free-flowing; whereas, the Isearch paper is going to take research to pull together. It’s “cookbook”. It already took me two days just to figure out what my topic is going to be; and I’m still not very convinced that this is the topic “for me”--even though I have a personal connection to the topic that I chose.
I read the Isearch papers that were on the course blog. I read about “how to shingle a roof” and “should my family get a dog?” None of the topics particularly interested me but I at least have an idea of the format/layout of how the paper is supposed to be typed.
I don’t think this is going to be one of my most favorite assignments. I hope I can “pull it off” and will give it 100% effort.
Person Graf #7
In your lifetime you will meet lots of people. Some that you wish you hadn’t of met and others that you are glad that you had. I’m not talking about family members. I’m talking about the people that leave a lifetime impression in your soul. People that you look back onto as the years go by and you find yourself smiling while thinking about the memories that you shared with that person. His name was Keith “Red” Hale.
“Red” appeared to be old-looking when I was just a child. He had red hair that was sort of spiky in appearance, hazel eyes with gold wire rim glasses, and a weathered face. He was in his forties when I was about five years old. “Red” drove an old green Jeep with a white hard top. You could usually find him parked beside the post office talking to friends or napping as traffic went by. He wore old blue jeans that were always high watered; thus, showing his cream colored wool socks and his brown workboots with the cream colored sole. His boots had duct tape wrapped around the toes. Some people used to make fun of the way that he looked--a lot of people said that he was “loaded--and didn’t need to dress the way that he did.” He couldn’t read or write. One day when I was six I ran up to him and said…”Red, will you read this book to me?” He just smiled and couldn’t tell me why he couldn’t read to me. I remember thinking that it was odd that he didn’t read the book to me. Although he could not read or write, “Red” was the historian of the town. Oh, the stories that he could tell. He talked about the trains that used to come through town, the sawmill that got burned by the Indians up on the Mattawamkeag River, how there is a person in the cemetery that died when the Titanic went down, he would go around with a stick to guide new homeowners to where the vein of water was on their property so they could drill a well--and the list goes on and on.
“Red” helped my Dad when they built their house back in the 1970’s. He came around and watched as my house was being built--and seeded down my lawn. “Red” was in his seventies and still came around my husbands truck garage and went for rides with my dad in his pulp truck. My two children got to know “Red” and we would ride our bikes downtown and sit with him on the post office steps. My kids would listen to old stories that “Red” would tell them about me growing up-- and stories about our town. My kids have heard more knowledge about our town through the words of Keith “Red” Hale than they will ever hear from any textbook. “Red” passed away two years ago at the age of 76.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
ISearch Topic
Isearch topic: Breast Cancer in Young Women
What do you want to find out about your topic:
a: risk factors associated with early breast cancer
b: what causes breast cancer
c: is there earlier detection other than breast self exam in women under 40
d: why is breast cancer more aggressive/invasive in younger women
e: why is breast cancer in young women not “publicized” as much as it is with women over the age of 40?
f: screening tools for family members that have a family member with breast cancer
Questions about the topic:a: does every patient need a mastectomy?
b: does every patient need to undergo chemotherapy and radiation?
c: what are the chances of recurrence of the disease and what are the symptoms?
How does the topic connect to your life:-I had an aunt who passed away from breast cancer and I was diagnosed at thirty-two years of age
3 reasons why you like the topic:a: I have some knowledge about the topic based on my own personal experiences
b: the disease affects so many young women nationally but I was “hard pressed” to find a woman my age who was undergoing the same treatment/issues that I was facing at an early age. I wanted to meet people that had survived the disease for thirty years and that was hard to come by.
c: awareness: the more that I talk to people about the disease not just being a disease for “people forty years and older”--the more I’m heightening awareness and possibly am saving someones life.
3 Reasons why your life may change if you answer your questions:a: feel better knowing that I’ve done all that I can do for myself as well as for my young daughter to research all of the current medical protocols/facts about the disease.
b: allows me to move on and put the “nightmare” behind me--but also provides awareness to someone who may be hesitating seeking medical consultation.
c: I would be very happy to someday see insurance companies lower the mammography screening guidelines to women age thirty instead of forty.
What do you want to find out about your topic:
a: risk factors associated with early breast cancer
b: what causes breast cancer
c: is there earlier detection other than breast self exam in women under 40
d: why is breast cancer more aggressive/invasive in younger women
e: why is breast cancer in young women not “publicized” as much as it is with women over the age of 40?
f: screening tools for family members that have a family member with breast cancer
Questions about the topic:a: does every patient need a mastectomy?
b: does every patient need to undergo chemotherapy and radiation?
c: what are the chances of recurrence of the disease and what are the symptoms?
How does the topic connect to your life:-I had an aunt who passed away from breast cancer and I was diagnosed at thirty-two years of age
3 reasons why you like the topic:a: I have some knowledge about the topic based on my own personal experiences
b: the disease affects so many young women nationally but I was “hard pressed” to find a woman my age who was undergoing the same treatment/issues that I was facing at an early age. I wanted to meet people that had survived the disease for thirty years and that was hard to come by.
c: awareness: the more that I talk to people about the disease not just being a disease for “people forty years and older”--the more I’m heightening awareness and possibly am saving someones life.
3 Reasons why your life may change if you answer your questions:a: feel better knowing that I’ve done all that I can do for myself as well as for my young daughter to research all of the current medical protocols/facts about the disease.
b: allows me to move on and put the “nightmare” behind me--but also provides awareness to someone who may be hesitating seeking medical consultation.
c: I would be very happy to someday see insurance companies lower the mammography screening guidelines to women age thirty instead of forty.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Graf 6 question
Hello! I'm confused with Graf 6 assignment. When I click on it nothing opens up. It just talks about our Isearch paper. Mayday....mayday!!!!
Monday, January 31, 2011
Things Week 3 Graf 5
Things Graf 5
It was a place to go when I needed to be alone during my teenage years. I spent a lot of time out there in the hot summer months with my boom box listening to Def Leppard and Quiet Riot. It had two bays with 25’ doors, some grease on the floor and a lot of tools--this place was my dads truck garage.
My father has always worked in the woods driving a pulp loader truck. He is a self-contractor; which means that whenever there is a breakdown he would spend numerous hours in the truck garage repairing his truck. I was always guaranteed to find him out there whenever I was bored and just needed to come hang out and watch him work….in the truck garage.
I typically would listen to music, obscess about the new boyfriend in my life, what I wanted to be when I grew up, and sweep the floor with the big three foot wide broom that he had. I would straighten out his workbench and make sure all of his sockets were in the right socket set, the wrenches were put away in order by size, and frequently would wash his truck and clean out the inside of it…..in the truck garage.
I made the tennis team! Gosh, the snowsled is stuck again! I can’t believe he dumped me! I wonder if there is any gas for the four wheeler. I’ve got to go find Dad and tell him that I left the road and dented the car by driving too fast down the camp road. I wonder if Dad will take me fishing. I’m not sure if I’m ready to get married. I think I’ll quit my job and go back to school. How do I make my kids mind? I could find all of the advice or solutions to my dilemmas by going into the truck garage.
Yes, I believe that the actual “thing” that means the most to me is actually the quiet presence of my dad when I was growing up right into my adulthood. He is a great listener and friend. The truck garage just happens to be the spot where I could always find him when he wasn’t working in his truck.
I don’t get a chance to hang out in the truck garage as much as I used to. I guess I really don’t like to pick up greasy nuts and bolts. The kids clothes usually get covered with soot and grease whenever they are out there. However, I did a lot of growing up in that garage. I hope that my kids get to experience some freedom of their own out there one day--and savor the fond memories of their grampie in his truck garage.
It was a place to go when I needed to be alone during my teenage years. I spent a lot of time out there in the hot summer months with my boom box listening to Def Leppard and Quiet Riot. It had two bays with 25’ doors, some grease on the floor and a lot of tools--this place was my dads truck garage.
My father has always worked in the woods driving a pulp loader truck. He is a self-contractor; which means that whenever there is a breakdown he would spend numerous hours in the truck garage repairing his truck. I was always guaranteed to find him out there whenever I was bored and just needed to come hang out and watch him work….in the truck garage.
I typically would listen to music, obscess about the new boyfriend in my life, what I wanted to be when I grew up, and sweep the floor with the big three foot wide broom that he had. I would straighten out his workbench and make sure all of his sockets were in the right socket set, the wrenches were put away in order by size, and frequently would wash his truck and clean out the inside of it…..in the truck garage.
I made the tennis team! Gosh, the snowsled is stuck again! I can’t believe he dumped me! I wonder if there is any gas for the four wheeler. I’ve got to go find Dad and tell him that I left the road and dented the car by driving too fast down the camp road. I wonder if Dad will take me fishing. I’m not sure if I’m ready to get married. I think I’ll quit my job and go back to school. How do I make my kids mind? I could find all of the advice or solutions to my dilemmas by going into the truck garage.
Yes, I believe that the actual “thing” that means the most to me is actually the quiet presence of my dad when I was growing up right into my adulthood. He is a great listener and friend. The truck garage just happens to be the spot where I could always find him when he wasn’t working in his truck.
I don’t get a chance to hang out in the truck garage as much as I used to. I guess I really don’t like to pick up greasy nuts and bolts. The kids clothes usually get covered with soot and grease whenever they are out there. However, I did a lot of growing up in that garage. I hope that my kids get to experience some freedom of their own out there one day--and savor the fond memories of their grampie in his truck garage.
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