A Slow Walk of Trees

The comparison-contrast essay by toni Morrison discusses the views by her grandparents vs the views of her parents on the treatment of blacks in America. The thing that interested me was that the men viewed everything negatively but the women were cautiously optimistic. This may be because black men face very different obstacles than the black women face. The author was raised in a racist home and has tried to overcome her own racism throughout the years which she primarily drew from the black women in her family. She used statistics of black achievements to help point out the improvements that the blacks have made in society. This was a very interesting essay, but sad in that we are still having these discussions.

The Invisible Heart

I finished reading The Invisible Heart. It was really a cute little book. The side story had a very interesting twist that I didn't suspect. I really liked it because it held my attention and was very easy to read. One more assignment completed.

The Invisible Heart

I am reading The Invisible Heart by Russell Roberts for my economics course. It says on the front cover that it is an economic romance. I started reading it last night and got half-way through the book. So far, I think it is probably a romance novel about an economics teacher and an english teacher. There is also another story (that I'm sure will tie in later) about a pharmaceutical (sp?) corporation relocating to Mexico. That side-story is obviously so deeply about economics. Russel Roberts is an excellent author. Anyone that can keep MY attention has to be because I do not particularly like to read. I can't wait to get back to this book and see how the two stories blend together.

Review of From Brooklyn to Worthington

After reading the essay I don't understand why he went on and on about describing the city- unless he was trying to explain why he didn't like it there. It seems to be a dust bowl area. I think the main reason he did not like living there was because he feels it could have contributed to his father's alcoholism and that his father was not happy there. Once he revisited, the only revelation he made was how the city had become diversified and embraced the diversification. I thought all the description of the city was boring (to me, at least).

Cherished Childhood Memories Narrative

I just finished revising my narrative and getting it shorter. During my review, I noticed how the paper got onto subjects that were off-topic and eliminated those. Writing is not talking. When we talk we throw in all kinds of unnecessary details and side-boards to give our listeners more background information. Getting used to writing and eliminating some of those tangents is going to take some getting used to.

Narrative Review

After reviewing my narrative I realized that it does not contain the five vivid detail elements. With just a few adjectives I have been able to add some of the required descriptions that will give the narrative most of these details. I did, however, notice that it already contained several "taste" descriptions. I wonder if that says something about me? I also need to review and make sure that I use the same tense throughout the essay.

Once More To The Lake

This was a very descriptive narrative. You could actually picture the camp and some of the people at the camp from his perspective. After reading it you feel like you have been there. I really enjoyed this excellent piece of work. It was interesting that he transported himself back in time - sometimes being his father , sometimes feeling like he was his own son. It's almost like when we watch a movie today and we try to take on one of the characters in the movie as ourselves (or maybe I'm the only person that does that). I was very confused by the last line. Does he see that he's getting older and death is nearing? A pretty disturbing way to end an otherwise enjoyable read.

Shooting An Elephant

This narrative was a very slow read for me. I guess the author really wanted to spend a lot of time setting the scene, but I found it boring. However, I wasn't sure what the outcome would be until the very end - would he actually shoot the elephant or not. Then he worried about the ramifications, actually worried about that before he shot the elephant. I didn't get much out of this piece.

No shipping charges

The Wall Street Journal reported that during this holiday season many companies will offer no shipping charges in order to increase their sales. On-line and catalogue sales have increased each year since the popularity of the internet has increased. Because of the slow economy retailers are looking for a way to spur their sales and the elimination of shipping charges appears to be the method of choice. The only drawback that the retailers expect is that once the holidays are over, shoppers may become angry when the free shipping offers expire.

The Library Card

It is amazing to me that in the 1900's, it was still not acceptable for blacks to have something as innocent as a Library Card! This essay made me feel very sad that this entire group of human beings was so mistreated and abused. I also found it amazing that even as a free man, the author had to act (and actually be) subserviant to his fellow workers - not his boss, but fellow workers! However, it also shows that if you want something bad enough, you will find a way to get it regardless of the obstacles. He read and read and read and educated himself on the different aspects of writing because he desperately wanted to be a writer.

Cherished Childhood Memories

What places did I visit as a child? Except for the occasional camping trip our family was too poor for large vacations. My three sisters and I did spend a week at our paternal grandparents house some summers. There's not much in Cleveland, Texas. Cleveland is almost a suburb of Houston only 40 miles away but we thought it was in the "country". My grandmother "Momma" as she was called caused us to change the name we used for our own "Momma". It was too confusing, so we had to start calling our mother "Mother". My grandfather was "Pappaw". Momma never learned to drive so during the day when Pappaw was at work, we were stranded at home. But the days were very busy. After breakfast we played in the front yard. The front yard was amazing because across the entire front perimeter was a huge stone fence. How high was the fence? It was way over our heads and was difficult to climb but eventually we could climb to the top. We usually made it to the top aided by an adjacent tree that would assist our climbing effort. Since the stone fence was really wide, we would walk back and forth and pretend we were protecting our fort or castle - whatever the game was that day. As we marched up and down that fence, dust storms would nearly blow us down. They weren't actually dust storms, but when people would drive down that old dirt road on a hot summer day, the dust would cover us and take forever to settle back down.

In the back yard was a huge fenced-in garden. The fence was made of wooden posts and chicken wire, to keep chickens out - I suppose. I can remember walking among the neatly plowed rows. Those rows never contained any weeds, just dusty dirt. The garden contained all sorts of vegetable - peas, green beans, cucumbers, squash. Sometimes Momma would let us help her "harvest" the garden. She always wore an apron. She would put it on when she got dressed in the morning and not take it off until she got ready for her evening bath. Her apron really came in handy in the garden when she would create an apron hammock for us to deposit the harvested vegetables. I always remember that there was a salt shaker atop the post that secured the garden gate. I had always thought that someone had just forgotten that it was there. But, one day as we were harvesting tomatoes, Momma told us to bring the tomato to her. When we arrived with the red juicy tomato, she reached up for the salt shaker, generously shook the tomato with salt and handed it out to us to take a bite. I never knew a tomato could taste so delicious. It was still warm from the sun and so flavorful. Momma had a very large panty which contained all the canned goods that she masterfully created from all the harvests. At every meal there was always an assortment of jellies, preserves, pickles, tomatoes and chow-chow. We were too young to help can, but she always promised she would teach us how.

Pappaw owned a little "filling" station right on US 59. On rare occasions, he would let us go down to the filling station for an hour or so. This station was not a large full-service type of place. There was no mechanic bay for any types of repairs. Folks would pull in and Pappaw would fill their tanks with gas. he would check the oil in their engine and wash their front and back windows. My two older sisters got to help with those chores while my younger sister and I sat inside and drank Chocolate Cokes. I know that Pappaw couldn't wait to take us two younger girls back home because we were of no help to him at the filling station.

When my parents retired they moved back to Cleveland. One week-end visit, my sisters and I decided to drive my Momma & Pappaw's old place. We drove down the now black-topped road to get a glimpse of the old homestead. We had to make several passes to find it. What in the world had happened to the great stone fence? Had someone cut the stone fence to just three feet high? Or had the weight of those massive stones sunk into the earth making the fence appear to be a mere fraction of its previous grandeur? Well, according to Mother, that was the height the fence had always been. I had forgotten about the little arched trellis over the wire gate that led into the yard. How pretty it was with the honeysuckle growing creating a green arch over the entrance. I then remembered eating the sugar from the honeysuckles right there atop that stone fence.

The huge enclosed garden was gone. The current residents had replaced it with a swing set and a hot tub. Some of the fruit trees that had been planted in the yard those so many years ago were very large and producing (figs and pears). I was sure that the pantry where all those home-made canned goods used to be stored just contained store-bought food now.

Of course the filling station had been gone for years. Since we traveled down US 59 en-route to various other destinations throughout the years, we know that it was already gone.

My challenge now, as a grandmother, is to create those cherished childhood memories for my grandchildren. I wonder what my grandchildren will remember. Will they remember the summer that we went on an outing each day (bowling, fishing, putt-putt) then came home and had a tea party? Yes, the girls wore hats and gloves and served tea and cakes while the boys learned to tie their ties and held the chairs for their "ladies". Will they remember the annual Christmas picture session containing my grandchildren plus all the grandchildren of my sisters (14 in all). Just trying to get all 14 looking at the camera at the same time is challenge enough, much less asking everyone to smile in unison. Will they remember the annual Memorial Day Pullen Family Reunion? All the families camp out on 20 acres outside of Centerville, Texas for the whole week-end and enjoy fishing, four-wheeling, baseball, badminton, treasure hunts, crafts, bingo and the ever-popular Saturday night Hee Haw Karaoke. Maybe their favorite memory will be some alone time, when they had our full attention and there was no competition from any of the other grandkids.

I know that my memories are fond ones of a much simpler time with much simpler pleasures. I do not know what makes these things stand out in my mind but it may have been just being a happy and loved child. There was no stress and no pressure. I sometimes think maybe I should stop trying so hard to orchestrate events and just let things happen. My memories were just of everyday events, not spectacles. Maybe our cherished memories occur when we are most peaceful.

Pre-writing & Keeping a journal

Pre-writing? Keeping a journal? Are you kidding me? I have always been a list-maker because I can't stand to forget things. But writing comments about things I have read seems redundant to me. I already read it and unless I have to analyze it or argue the issue, why would I make notes about it. Okay, I'm already understanding the pre-writing because what is that but a rough draft. I am a huge fan of rough drafts. Writing notes (journal) about something I have to write about makes sense, too. However, just making notes on random things I read seems very foreign to me.