“What was that?”
“What was what?”
“That noise.”
“I didn’t hear any noise.”
“Really? It came from that direction over there, by the window. Can you check?”
“I’ll check by the window, but I’m telling you that there’s nothing out there. Everything is fine.”
“Why do you never believe anything that I tell you? You always treat me like I am some kind of psychotic person that does not know what she is talking about.”
“I don’t think that, I just think….”
“You do think that! Do not lie to me. That is something else that bugs me. You tell me things just to make me feel better and that just makes me feel worse.”
*rolls his eyes* “Would you just shut up and listen to me. I don’t think you are a psychotic person. You are always blowing things out of proportion. I’m telling you that you’re just being sensitive.”
“I’m not being sensitive, I’m just telling you how I feel and…there’s that noise again. I swear it is over by the window. It sounds like something is trying to break in.”
I am telling you THERE-IS-NO-ONE-OUT-THERE! Now stop acting like a two year old that’s afraid of the monster under your bed. You are being ridiculous.”
“How do you know that no one is out there?”
“Because I looked outside and it’s just a tree limb that’s hitting the window because of the wind.”
“Oh. Well, I told you something was trying to break in, I didn’t tell you that it was a person.”
*sighs* “What am I going to do with you?”
“Love me.” *smiles and bats her eyes*
Word Count: 272
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Monday, March 22, 2010
Dad (Profile Piece)
***I totally changed the person I was going to do my profile on. Sorry for the last minute switch.***
“Well, look what the cat brought in!” This is the type of thing my dad would say whenever I would get home from school. My dad is as country as country can get. He was born back in the hollows and had an outhouse for a small amount of time when he was younger. He comes from a family of six children. Most of them were farmers. His highest education was high school and barely graduated in 1963. Whenever my mom and I would go somewhere and asked him if he wanted to come his reply would be, “you guys go ahead, I have to stay and take care of my dogs. That’s just the kind of guy he is.
Dad is a man of few words. The only things that really get him talking are the words “John Deere, tractor, beagle, and beer.” If you want to talk about anything else it’s a one sided conversation with you doing all the talking. He might add the occasional “huh” and shake his head back and forth. You will never see him in the house either. His house is the garage. It’s fully equipped with DirectTV, wood burning stove, and two full size refrigerators. One of them holds all of the soda and the other his Michelob Ultra.
His wardrobe consists of white t-shirts and handkerchiefs, blue jeans, tube socks, his work boots, and his flannel shirts in the winter. Oh yeah, and don’t forget his John Deere hat regardless of what season it is. Because of his refusal to buy new clothes my sister and I always end up getting him something to add to his wardrobe at Christmas time.
Being a man that has worked construction all of his life, he has a very set routine. He is up before the sun and my mom gets up with him. She makes his breakfast of “EggBeaters” and bacon while he takes a five minute shower. When I lived at home the smell of his deodorant and aftershave would tickle my nose. It made me run out to him and give him a hug. This became our routine. I would brush my face against his cleanly shaven stubble. He would squeeze me with what I thought to be his muscular arms. I would also feel the chapped cracked skin on his fingers when he would squeeze my hands. This was from the thirty-five plus years of working construction and being outside.
He would get home a little before me since he went to work so early in the morning. We would share some time in the garage talking about our days. I would go in to start my homework while he would piddle around in his garage doing little projects that mom had for him.
My mom would get home later and start dinner for us. By this time I would be finishing with my homework and he would finish up with his projects of mowing the grass, gluing something together, or just cleaning his garage. Once he finished we would all come in to eat together.
After dinner, the sun starts to go down. It’s time for him to go to bed. He kisses my sister and I on the heads, gives us each a hug making a grunting noise, and says, “love ya.” He then heads back the hallway to the bedroom so he can wake up before the sun again.
Word Count: 572
“Well, look what the cat brought in!” This is the type of thing my dad would say whenever I would get home from school. My dad is as country as country can get. He was born back in the hollows and had an outhouse for a small amount of time when he was younger. He comes from a family of six children. Most of them were farmers. His highest education was high school and barely graduated in 1963. Whenever my mom and I would go somewhere and asked him if he wanted to come his reply would be, “you guys go ahead, I have to stay and take care of my dogs. That’s just the kind of guy he is.
Dad is a man of few words. The only things that really get him talking are the words “John Deere, tractor, beagle, and beer.” If you want to talk about anything else it’s a one sided conversation with you doing all the talking. He might add the occasional “huh” and shake his head back and forth. You will never see him in the house either. His house is the garage. It’s fully equipped with DirectTV, wood burning stove, and two full size refrigerators. One of them holds all of the soda and the other his Michelob Ultra.
His wardrobe consists of white t-shirts and handkerchiefs, blue jeans, tube socks, his work boots, and his flannel shirts in the winter. Oh yeah, and don’t forget his John Deere hat regardless of what season it is. Because of his refusal to buy new clothes my sister and I always end up getting him something to add to his wardrobe at Christmas time.
Being a man that has worked construction all of his life, he has a very set routine. He is up before the sun and my mom gets up with him. She makes his breakfast of “EggBeaters” and bacon while he takes a five minute shower. When I lived at home the smell of his deodorant and aftershave would tickle my nose. It made me run out to him and give him a hug. This became our routine. I would brush my face against his cleanly shaven stubble. He would squeeze me with what I thought to be his muscular arms. I would also feel the chapped cracked skin on his fingers when he would squeeze my hands. This was from the thirty-five plus years of working construction and being outside.
He would get home a little before me since he went to work so early in the morning. We would share some time in the garage talking about our days. I would go in to start my homework while he would piddle around in his garage doing little projects that mom had for him.
My mom would get home later and start dinner for us. By this time I would be finishing with my homework and he would finish up with his projects of mowing the grass, gluing something together, or just cleaning his garage. Once he finished we would all come in to eat together.
After dinner, the sun starts to go down. It’s time for him to go to bed. He kisses my sister and I on the heads, gives us each a hug making a grunting noise, and says, “love ya.” He then heads back the hallway to the bedroom so he can wake up before the sun again.
Word Count: 572
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Outline for Profile
I think for this I am going to stick with my nephew that I did for my "person doing an activity" post. I think the only difference I will make is some more detail into the mind of a 5 year old and the total exhausting adventure of his day at Mount Vernon. I will probably end with an exhausted boy fighting to stay awake on the bus back to my place.
Due to Inclement Weather...(Revised-and Shorter)
This store isn’t just any old grocery store. It sells nothing but all natural and organic groceries. There is nothing like Doritos, Kraft Mac and Cheese, Charmin toilet paper, or Tylenol. They sell more like cheese covered tortillas, Annie’s Mac and Cheese, and Seventh Generation toilet paper. This store also gets to charge a lot more for things like this. This is okay, because most of the people that shop here are your high end, rich, snobby people that want nothing but the best and healthiest for their families. They usually only drive to the store if they are afraid of getting their hair flattened by rain or wind; I’m not complaining though because I would rather they walk, considering that they can’t drive in the rain or snow.
Before the first snow storm it was as chaotic as chaotic can get. It was the second snow storm that changed the world, at least that’s what the people of Alexandria were thinking. So when the meteorologists on television started predicting the storm, it slowly became busier and busier the closer it got to SNOWMAGEDDON. The snow predicted to start to really pick up in the evening, so the day of the storm was when everyone decided to come out, thinking the world was going to end.
Going into work that day I was a little frightened because I knew what was about to come. I sincerely thought about spiking my hot chocolate with chocolate vodka before going in just to take the edge off. Instead I braved it up, put my long john’s and snow pants on, and braved it up sober. That was the worst mistake of my life. Once I got to work and got a spot in the garage without getting hit, I forced down the lump in my throat as the automatic doors opened in front of me.
Looking out of my department at the frantic and raged filled customers I squirmed with anticipation wondering what kinds of things people were in such a big hurry to buy before the white stuff started to come down. Peering out at the lights shining behind the register numbers I strained my neck out just a bit to peak around the corner and see if anyone was coming. I tried to make a mad dash out to the protein bars to straighten them up but it was impossible. I was approached with my first human that could have been confused for a malnourished brown bear.
It was an elderly woman wearing a fur coat and a hat to match it. She even had the snout to match it as well. I felt like I should curl up in a ball and beg her not to eat me. Then to make things worse she asked me in a growling voice, “Where’s the sugar?” This is when I really started to shake because I knew she wasn’t going to like the answer I was going to give her. I crunched my neck down in between my shoulders and pointed my finger in the furthest direction away from where we were standing and said, “a-a-aisle 1.” She rolled her eyes and grumbled as she ran over innocent people trying to make her way over there. After that confrontation my heart was racing up in my throat so I ran back into the aisle to catch my breath and stop shaking. It was another hour before I could venture out again.
My next adventure out seemed to be better than the first. I tried to swallow my fear of the monsters that roamed the store. I put on my hat and scarf this time to try and blend in with the rest of them, but then I remembered I still had to wear my apron with my name tag on. “Oh dear,” I thought to myself, “there is no getting around these people.” This time I was actually able to venture around and look at the types of things that the people dressed up as monsters were buying.
Every cart that zoomed by me had at a minimum of three gallons of water in them. Why do you need that much water? There is going to be a ton of it on the ground. Another popular item was red meat. The meat department almost had to close down because of the lack of meat that they had in the back to stock their shelves. It seemed as though the only thing people didn’t want was ground beef.
One very upset customer in his boots, hat, snow pants, and sweatshirt decided he had had enough. He picked up his few items and case of water out of his cart, and shouted, “I’M TIRED OF WAITING!” With this being said he stormed out the door, but it still took him some time considering he had to wait in a line to get out of the store.
After encountering the very upset man who left his cart in the middle of a sea of people I was mortified. I just wanted to get back to my aisle where it was quiet and safe. Before I could get there a man quickly approaches me. Immediately I just wanted to turn my back and run. He came up on me so quickly that I froze, my eyes bulging out of my head. I couldn’t take anymore torture. When he gets in my face he says with a smile, “you look like you’re the calmest one in this place.” As I gained the strength back in my knees I managing to get out a small but questionable,”th-th-thanks sir.”
Deciding I really didn’t like being in the middle of the store either I went to the front of the store to be of help in the bagging department. I was able to do some more nosing while up here to see what kinds of things people were getting. With the store closing at 6 pm, and it being almost 5, the crowds actually started to slow down with some interesting purchases to say the least.
A younger couple in their twenties came up to check out their items and the only things in their hands were four bottles of red wine and some cheese. “What’s the special occasion?” the cashier says to the couple. “None, we’re just planning on getting snowed in.” It is fun to see that people are making light of the situation. At least they were happy and not in an angry mood similar to that of the bear-like woman that I encountered earlier in the day.
Another funny instance was as I watched a woman in her forties walk up to the cashier with a huge smile on her face, all she carried in her basket were a couple of red wines, a few white wines, and two-six packs of beer. “I’m not worried about food. As long as I have my alcohol I will be just fine.” “Enjoy your weekend,” the cashier says to her with a smile as she pays and walks out of the store.
One of the last customers of the night was a young man in his twenties. He didn’t seem to have a care in the world. It was as though he were out in outer space somewhere while he waited in line. Like many customers he had a hat on his head, mittens on his hands, and warm boots on his feet. What stood out about him was what was in his hands. He didn’t have water or toilet paper. All he needed was the mini-keg of beer to keep him entertained and the bread to soak it up when he drank too much.
Finally after the exhausting day of frantic, cranky, annoying, and light hearted customers, a person comes over the intercom, “attention team members and customers, due to inclement weather…” We packed up our things, shut the lights out, and went home.
After I walked in the door of my apartment I slowly began to strip the layers of clothes off to get in to something warm and comfortable. The sweatpants and t-shirt in the corner of my bedroom looked fantastic. After my long and terrifying day all I wanted was another mug of hot cocoa, but this time I didn’t make the mistake of staying sober. Due to the inclement weather I added a little extra “chocolate” to take the edge off of a long and exhausting day.
Before the first snow storm it was as chaotic as chaotic can get. It was the second snow storm that changed the world, at least that’s what the people of Alexandria were thinking. So when the meteorologists on television started predicting the storm, it slowly became busier and busier the closer it got to SNOWMAGEDDON. The snow predicted to start to really pick up in the evening, so the day of the storm was when everyone decided to come out, thinking the world was going to end.
Going into work that day I was a little frightened because I knew what was about to come. I sincerely thought about spiking my hot chocolate with chocolate vodka before going in just to take the edge off. Instead I braved it up, put my long john’s and snow pants on, and braved it up sober. That was the worst mistake of my life. Once I got to work and got a spot in the garage without getting hit, I forced down the lump in my throat as the automatic doors opened in front of me.
Looking out of my department at the frantic and raged filled customers I squirmed with anticipation wondering what kinds of things people were in such a big hurry to buy before the white stuff started to come down. Peering out at the lights shining behind the register numbers I strained my neck out just a bit to peak around the corner and see if anyone was coming. I tried to make a mad dash out to the protein bars to straighten them up but it was impossible. I was approached with my first human that could have been confused for a malnourished brown bear.
It was an elderly woman wearing a fur coat and a hat to match it. She even had the snout to match it as well. I felt like I should curl up in a ball and beg her not to eat me. Then to make things worse she asked me in a growling voice, “Where’s the sugar?” This is when I really started to shake because I knew she wasn’t going to like the answer I was going to give her. I crunched my neck down in between my shoulders and pointed my finger in the furthest direction away from where we were standing and said, “a-a-aisle 1.” She rolled her eyes and grumbled as she ran over innocent people trying to make her way over there. After that confrontation my heart was racing up in my throat so I ran back into the aisle to catch my breath and stop shaking. It was another hour before I could venture out again.
My next adventure out seemed to be better than the first. I tried to swallow my fear of the monsters that roamed the store. I put on my hat and scarf this time to try and blend in with the rest of them, but then I remembered I still had to wear my apron with my name tag on. “Oh dear,” I thought to myself, “there is no getting around these people.” This time I was actually able to venture around and look at the types of things that the people dressed up as monsters were buying.
Every cart that zoomed by me had at a minimum of three gallons of water in them. Why do you need that much water? There is going to be a ton of it on the ground. Another popular item was red meat. The meat department almost had to close down because of the lack of meat that they had in the back to stock their shelves. It seemed as though the only thing people didn’t want was ground beef.
One very upset customer in his boots, hat, snow pants, and sweatshirt decided he had had enough. He picked up his few items and case of water out of his cart, and shouted, “I’M TIRED OF WAITING!” With this being said he stormed out the door, but it still took him some time considering he had to wait in a line to get out of the store.
After encountering the very upset man who left his cart in the middle of a sea of people I was mortified. I just wanted to get back to my aisle where it was quiet and safe. Before I could get there a man quickly approaches me. Immediately I just wanted to turn my back and run. He came up on me so quickly that I froze, my eyes bulging out of my head. I couldn’t take anymore torture. When he gets in my face he says with a smile, “you look like you’re the calmest one in this place.” As I gained the strength back in my knees I managing to get out a small but questionable,”th-th-thanks sir.”
Deciding I really didn’t like being in the middle of the store either I went to the front of the store to be of help in the bagging department. I was able to do some more nosing while up here to see what kinds of things people were getting. With the store closing at 6 pm, and it being almost 5, the crowds actually started to slow down with some interesting purchases to say the least.
A younger couple in their twenties came up to check out their items and the only things in their hands were four bottles of red wine and some cheese. “What’s the special occasion?” the cashier says to the couple. “None, we’re just planning on getting snowed in.” It is fun to see that people are making light of the situation. At least they were happy and not in an angry mood similar to that of the bear-like woman that I encountered earlier in the day.
Another funny instance was as I watched a woman in her forties walk up to the cashier with a huge smile on her face, all she carried in her basket were a couple of red wines, a few white wines, and two-six packs of beer. “I’m not worried about food. As long as I have my alcohol I will be just fine.” “Enjoy your weekend,” the cashier says to her with a smile as she pays and walks out of the store.
One of the last customers of the night was a young man in his twenties. He didn’t seem to have a care in the world. It was as though he were out in outer space somewhere while he waited in line. Like many customers he had a hat on his head, mittens on his hands, and warm boots on his feet. What stood out about him was what was in his hands. He didn’t have water or toilet paper. All he needed was the mini-keg of beer to keep him entertained and the bread to soak it up when he drank too much.
Finally after the exhausting day of frantic, cranky, annoying, and light hearted customers, a person comes over the intercom, “attention team members and customers, due to inclement weather…” We packed up our things, shut the lights out, and went home.
After I walked in the door of my apartment I slowly began to strip the layers of clothes off to get in to something warm and comfortable. The sweatpants and t-shirt in the corner of my bedroom looked fantastic. After my long and terrifying day all I wanted was another mug of hot cocoa, but this time I didn’t make the mistake of staying sober. Due to the inclement weather I added a little extra “chocolate” to take the edge off of a long and exhausting day.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Feedback on blog of Liz
When I first started this assignment I was stuck on the subject I was going to do a profile on. Once I came to that conclusion I then read Liz's blog. Wow, this might be a little easier than I thought. I first went through some pictures I had on my computer from when my family came to visit Virginia last Easter. I found one that was from a visit to Mount Vernon. It was one that told a story. That was when the lightbulb came on. The picture helped me to tell the parts of the story that I couldn't remember. I thought it was going to be this long, painstakingly difficult piece to write. Once I got started, the rest just flowed.
"Just Smewin the Fwowers!"
If you have ever been to George Washington’s home in Mount Vernon you would know that there are hundreds of acres to venture off and explore. My family being there from Ohio wanted to search every inch of it. My youngest nephews five senses were going crazy, but two of them were struck very forcefully when we got to the beautiful flower garden: his sense of sight and smell. Due to his short stature his nose was the only thing being teased.
In the flower garden of Martha and George there were many groups of flowers that were blocked off by a small brick ledge to keep people, and especially young ones, from stepping in the garden and crushing the flowers with the soles of their shoes. This was particularly hard for Evan since the top of his head reached just below my hip. Every time he would lean to get a sniff of a flower that caught his attention by its beautiful colors he would start to lose his balance, falling forward, and scratching his hands on the concrete path. He finally got fed up, and with his slight speech problem, looked at me, leaned his head so it was leaning on his left shoulder and said, “Aunt Selley, can you lift me up so I can smell the fwower over der?” Of course I fell in to his dimpled smile and hoisted my arm under his pudgy belly that was rolled over his jeans. He inhaled so hard that the petal of the flower he smelled collapsed to the inside of his nose; and he giggled and wriggled around in my arms bringing his scratchy, dirty hand up to rub his nose.
After he repeatedly lifting him over almost every kind of flower in the garden, I had to turn him down the next time he asked me to lift him up. As everyone else was busy checking out the other flowers in the garden, no one noticed Evan in the corner. Looking around, my sister grabs me by the arm as I was about to yell his name. I immediately looked in the direction she was pointing, turned on my camera, and snapped his picture. He had figured out a resolution to his own problem of not being able to smell the scents surrounding him. He had gotten down on his grass stained jeans, crawled over to the brick ledge between him and the flowers, and was leaning with both hands and his left knee on the brick, stretching his short torso over the ledge. His right foot was barely touching the ground as he balanced himself. After everyone had gotten their picture of him, my sister yells, “Evan, what do you think you’re doing?” Scrambling to his feet as quick as his little hands and feet would let him, he wiped his hands on his jeans. He then shrugs his shoulders and lifts his hands, palms up towards the sky and says, “What? I’m just smewin the fwowers.”
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