These two adventures are more like un-adventures in driving, but they mark what could be a turning point in my navigational skills.
Saturday, it was my task to get to West Chester to watch Ronda and some others perform at a concert. Not only had I never driven to West Chester before, but I had to get there via highway. And one of those highways was one I had never driven on before (I-75). However, wonder of wonders, I managed to get there without getting the least bit lost! I also managed to get home without getting lost, but that was only because I called my parents to see if I had in mind the correct way to get home. I did not have in mind the correct way to get home. That potential crisis was averted.
On Sunday, I got my senior pictures taken. The outside pictures were taken at Spring Grove Cemetery, and once we were finished there I was to follow Annette (my photographer) to her house for some inside pictures. The only thing I hate more than trying to drive to a new place is following someone to a new place. We got onto I-75 during rush hour and ended up getting split up. I just barely noticed in time when she got off on an exit and ended I-75 ordeal number three. The rest of the drive to her house was uneventful. But then I had to get back home. She gave me clear directions to I-75, but once I got on I realized that I had no idea where I was. I tried calling home, but my parents were gone. I decided to try it alone, even though I was on the verge of panic. I found an exit onto Ronald Reagan, and figured that I could find some way home once I was on a familiar highway, and I ended up at a spot that I knew well. I-75 ordeal number four had been successfully completed!
I may have finally begun to overcome my inability to drive to new places without getting hopelessly lost!
Monday, September 29, 2008
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
How It Really Went
As I've already said I would, I'm now posting what really happened during and after the windstorm. Also, as I said before, I'm actually typing this first so I don't confuse reality with fantasy.
And then came the glorious event I thought would never come to pass so long as I lived in my parents' house. I was permitted (along with the oldest two of my younger sisters) to climb up into the large white pine in front of my house. I'm not sure why. It probably wasn't exactly the safest thing we could have done. But it was fun. Rachel and I went somewhere between two-thirds and three-quarters of the way up the tree. It was AWESOME! The wind caused the tree to sway and the branches to tremble. My time in the tree definitely ranks among my favorite experiences.
An hour or so later, as the wind continued to wail, the power went out. We weren't overly concerned. We had expected it. Eventually, we found out that it would be a while before the power came back on. At some point (it may have been Sunday night or Monday morning; I can't remember for sure), we learned that would could be electricity-less for up to a week. I was kind of hoping for a few days at least, but in the end we only went for just over 24 hours without it. Several of my friends still don't have it, and where the power lines or transformers are actually damaged or missing they aren't expecting to have electricity back until Friday at the earliest.
The Nichols and some of our other neighbors came over to our house. On our way to find other people to join us in a game of kick the can, I caught a squirrel. He was a frightened little fellow, so he didn't really try to run from me. When I picked him up, he curled into a little ball and put his paws over his head. I let him go after a moment. I couldn't bear to keep him captive any longer.
I liked the idea of living without electricity for a bit. It was nice in many ways. Maybe I'll try going Amish for a little bit. As night fell, I read by candle-light and wrote a letter to Sean McHone about Cincinnati happenings from a druid's perspective. I had already put a letter in the big package Ben sent to him, but it was a short and uninteresting letter. Plus, he wouldn't have to do any extra push-ups to get it.
Finneytown Schools announced that school would be canceled for the next day, so I stayed up late to finish an excellent book by the light of some scented candles. Contrary to my expectations, cinnamon roll and pear made a great smell combination.
Monday morning we packed necessary perishable food and drug items into coolers before they went bad in the powerless fridge. My mom's opinions on what had to be saved were unorthodox. Miracle Whip, ranch dressing, and Coke were at the top of her list, followed by her medications, with the more ordinary items trailing far behind.
After that we began to clean up our yard and our neighbor's yard. I got several scratches from some stubborn branches, but none of them were deep enough to bleed. My brother, Allison, and I created a stash of sticks that had high potential for becoming dueling weapons. Later, my mom found them and got rid of them before they were used. I was given the assignment of trying to dislodge a dead branch trapped up in a tree with no low-growing branches. I tried climbing the fence next to the tree, hanging onto the dead branch, and jumping, but all I managed to do was break off part of the branch. Most of it was still stuck. After several unsuccessful attempts, I was forced to give up. I could have just climbed the rough trunk, but I wasn't allowed to take off my shoes and there wasn't a safe path back out of the tree. Well, not a safe path for a shod person anyway. Toes can cling in ways that shoes cannot.
Jonathon and Rachel alerted me to the approach of a pair of our neighborhood LARPers and their captive. They agreed to let us take pictures of them. Please note that although we had collected branch weapons, we still have more dignity than LARPers. We were going to be duelers. Dueling is honorable and dignified. As we took some action shots, Alex/Stephanie Herbers, Logan Herbers, Daniel Wilson, Lauren Gifreda, and David Gifreda came up the street. Bruegger's Bagels still had power, so Jonathon and I joined them in a march to Bruegger's. Along the way, we found some plastic letters that had blown off of a sign, so I stuck them into my purse. You never know when you might need such things.
As we continued down Winton Road, we came upon two scenes that literally brought me to the verge of tears. My two favorite trees had been brought down by the storm. A majestic blue spruce had been uprooted, and the trunk of an ancient, giant black oak had snapped. It was devastating.
When we had almost reached Bruegger's, we were joined by Maddie Fessler, JP Muñoz, Alejandro something-or-another, and two people whose names I didn't know. McCall Dillon met us there. I had some of Bruegger's delicious chai tea. It was delicious, but I had forgotten how remarkably sugary it was. Too sugary.
From Brugger's we walked to Maddie's house. From there we drove to her great-grandma's house to help her clear her yard. We left JP, Alejandro, and their two friends behind. They aren't bright enough to be trusted with rakes. There wasn't much to do, so we drove to Maddie's grandma's house on Winton Road.
We had to take two carfuls to get there (Maddie's mom had helped us get from her mom's house to her great-grandma's house). Dan, Lauren, David, Jonathon, and I were dropped off first. We knocked on the door, but nobody answered. We remembered Maddie saying her grandparents actually owned the house next door as well, so we ventured to the next house. It was rather dilapidated, so we didn't even bother to knock. We called Maddie, and she told us that the door would be unlocked and we could just walk in. None of us were comfortable with that, so we sat on the hill facing their house. People gave us odd looks when they stopped at the stop light next to their house. I suppose they were justified. All of us except for Lauren and I were wearing all black, David looks emo, and Dan looks mildly goth at first glance. Even though Lauren and I weren’t wearing black, I was wearing a pirate shirt and Lauren’s hair looked emo.
Eventually the others arrived and told us that Maddie’s grandparents weren’t home. That would have been nice to know. They had a huge yard covered in debris. It took a while to clear. I got to be the official branch stomper. Whenever a trash can was full, I got to climb into it and compact its contents.
At then end of the day, we returned to our homes. We lit a fire in our backyard to cook hot dogs even though we had power back by that point.
And then came the glorious event I thought would never come to pass so long as I lived in my parents' house. I was permitted (along with the oldest two of my younger sisters) to climb up into the large white pine in front of my house. I'm not sure why. It probably wasn't exactly the safest thing we could have done. But it was fun. Rachel and I went somewhere between two-thirds and three-quarters of the way up the tree. It was AWESOME! The wind caused the tree to sway and the branches to tremble. My time in the tree definitely ranks among my favorite experiences.
An hour or so later, as the wind continued to wail, the power went out. We weren't overly concerned. We had expected it. Eventually, we found out that it would be a while before the power came back on. At some point (it may have been Sunday night or Monday morning; I can't remember for sure), we learned that would could be electricity-less for up to a week. I was kind of hoping for a few days at least, but in the end we only went for just over 24 hours without it. Several of my friends still don't have it, and where the power lines or transformers are actually damaged or missing they aren't expecting to have electricity back until Friday at the earliest.
The Nichols and some of our other neighbors came over to our house. On our way to find other people to join us in a game of kick the can, I caught a squirrel. He was a frightened little fellow, so he didn't really try to run from me. When I picked him up, he curled into a little ball and put his paws over his head. I let him go after a moment. I couldn't bear to keep him captive any longer.
I liked the idea of living without electricity for a bit. It was nice in many ways. Maybe I'll try going Amish for a little bit. As night fell, I read by candle-light and wrote a letter to Sean McHone about Cincinnati happenings from a druid's perspective. I had already put a letter in the big package Ben sent to him, but it was a short and uninteresting letter. Plus, he wouldn't have to do any extra push-ups to get it.
Finneytown Schools announced that school would be canceled for the next day, so I stayed up late to finish an excellent book by the light of some scented candles. Contrary to my expectations, cinnamon roll and pear made a great smell combination.
Monday morning we packed necessary perishable food and drug items into coolers before they went bad in the powerless fridge. My mom's opinions on what had to be saved were unorthodox. Miracle Whip, ranch dressing, and Coke were at the top of her list, followed by her medications, with the more ordinary items trailing far behind.
After that we began to clean up our yard and our neighbor's yard. I got several scratches from some stubborn branches, but none of them were deep enough to bleed. My brother, Allison, and I created a stash of sticks that had high potential for becoming dueling weapons. Later, my mom found them and got rid of them before they were used. I was given the assignment of trying to dislodge a dead branch trapped up in a tree with no low-growing branches. I tried climbing the fence next to the tree, hanging onto the dead branch, and jumping, but all I managed to do was break off part of the branch. Most of it was still stuck. After several unsuccessful attempts, I was forced to give up. I could have just climbed the rough trunk, but I wasn't allowed to take off my shoes and there wasn't a safe path back out of the tree. Well, not a safe path for a shod person anyway. Toes can cling in ways that shoes cannot.
Jonathon and Rachel alerted me to the approach of a pair of our neighborhood LARPers and their captive. They agreed to let us take pictures of them. Please note that although we had collected branch weapons, we still have more dignity than LARPers. We were going to be duelers. Dueling is honorable and dignified. As we took some action shots, Alex/Stephanie Herbers, Logan Herbers, Daniel Wilson, Lauren Gifreda, and David Gifreda came up the street. Bruegger's Bagels still had power, so Jonathon and I joined them in a march to Bruegger's. Along the way, we found some plastic letters that had blown off of a sign, so I stuck them into my purse. You never know when you might need such things.
As we continued down Winton Road, we came upon two scenes that literally brought me to the verge of tears. My two favorite trees had been brought down by the storm. A majestic blue spruce had been uprooted, and the trunk of an ancient, giant black oak had snapped. It was devastating.
When we had almost reached Bruegger's, we were joined by Maddie Fessler, JP Muñoz, Alejandro something-or-another, and two people whose names I didn't know. McCall Dillon met us there. I had some of Bruegger's delicious chai tea. It was delicious, but I had forgotten how remarkably sugary it was. Too sugary.
From Brugger's we walked to Maddie's house. From there we drove to her great-grandma's house to help her clear her yard. We left JP, Alejandro, and their two friends behind. They aren't bright enough to be trusted with rakes. There wasn't much to do, so we drove to Maddie's grandma's house on Winton Road.
We had to take two carfuls to get there (Maddie's mom had helped us get from her mom's house to her great-grandma's house). Dan, Lauren, David, Jonathon, and I were dropped off first. We knocked on the door, but nobody answered. We remembered Maddie saying her grandparents actually owned the house next door as well, so we ventured to the next house. It was rather dilapidated, so we didn't even bother to knock. We called Maddie, and she told us that the door would be unlocked and we could just walk in. None of us were comfortable with that, so we sat on the hill facing their house. People gave us odd looks when they stopped at the stop light next to their house. I suppose they were justified. All of us except for Lauren and I were wearing all black, David looks emo, and Dan looks mildly goth at first glance. Even though Lauren and I weren’t wearing black, I was wearing a pirate shirt and Lauren’s hair looked emo.
Eventually the others arrived and told us that Maddie’s grandparents weren’t home. That would have been nice to know. They had a huge yard covered in debris. It took a while to clear. I got to be the official branch stomper. Whenever a trash can was full, I got to climb into it and compact its contents.
At then end of the day, we returned to our homes. We lit a fire in our backyard to cook hot dogs even though we had power back by that point.
Monday, September 15, 2008
An Epic Tale
Preface:
On Sunday, the tri-state area experienced a vicious wind-storm brought to us by hurricane Ike. The strength of the wind took down powerlines all over the place. This is the story of what happened during and after the winds blew.*
As I pulled into the driveway, I saw two intrepid adventurers making their way up through the treacherous branches of the monolithic white pine in front of my home. Despite the fact that the tree was a wounded war veteran who had survived an ice storm and was thus missing all limbs on one side of its massive trunk, my two oldest sisters clambered up into it to enjoy the wind's fury from a higher perch. After depositing my bag of holding and my unwanted foot-wear in my bedchamber, I rushed to join them in their adventure.
We crept to the highest reaches of the tree, far above the rooftops of our fiefdom. The branches swayed and creaked dangerously, but we had no fear. Stalwart adventurers never have fear. Instead we had breath-taking exhilaration. It was fantastic.
We had barely entered our home once more when a startling discovery was made: we had no power! How on earth was I to begin my music theory quest to transpose by ear the first 16 measures of Beethoven's 5th Symphony for all the instruments*** if I did not have that song on my ipod? Worse yet, my ipod had barely any battery left. How could I hope to survive without tunes? The power-restoring mages could only hope that we would have power again within a week. A week is too long for any hero to go without her tunes. Being the hardy fellow that I am, I readied myself for the ordeal to come.
Other adventurers from our local guild traveled many yards over asphalt and grass to reach our home and suggest that we go in search of other brave souls to join us in outdoors games not designed for those who are faint of heart. On the way, I saw a creature skitter through the fallen branches to my right (I think it was to my right. I'll just say it was to the east of me. I can be much more certain about that). I turned quickly and beheld a truly fearsome sight. A squirrel-beast of rare stature reared up on its powerfully muscled legs and prepared to attack my friends and me. I faced the monster fearlessly. It didn't take me long to send him away cowering.
Night was upon us earlier than usual. With ominous clouds filling the sky, the sun's weakened rays gave up on trying to reach us. I continued to study books of ancient lore far into the night and even sent a letter written in secret code to an agent in the army.
We received a call informing us that my Academy was also powerless. Powerless Academies are no Academies at all. Filled with shame, they informed their students that their presence would not be required the next day.
As dawn broke the next day, we still had no power. We stored only the most vitally important of out perishable victuals in insulated boxes of coldness and began to clear the wreckage of the storm from the lawn of our estate. The branches ripped and tore at our flesh and clothing, but we persevered despite these hardships. A few of my kin joined me in stock-piling weapons in the event that we would have to keep vicious villains away from our family. I made a daring attempt to save a faithful tree from the shame of a dead branch hanging limply from the tree's proud form, but I failed. The failure stung far more deeply than any wounds I had received, but I bore the emotional burden stoically.
It seemed as though my siblings and I had not stored up weapons in vain. Armed travellers approached our backyard near midday. We realized to our relief that these good people meant us no harm. They were true heroes and had fought many a brutal battle to rise to positions of fame amongst our people. As we basked in the aura of such accomplished champions of good, a motley crew of our friends approached us and invited us to join them on a long trek to the other side of the Hamlet of Finneytown. They had heard the the good baker Bruegger still had power, and they were on their way to seek fresh food from his ovens.
As we crossed bustling highways and climbed treacherous slopes, our ranks swelled as more comrades joined us in our quest. Although our group was light-hearted and hopeful, there were a few gruesome scenes that brought tears to the eyes of even the most reserved of our number. Several of our forest friends had fallen in the overpowering winds, including my two best dryad friends. May their pure souls rest in peace.
Once we had eaten our fill of goodly Bruegger's fine fare, we headed out in search of good deeds that needed doing. There were more than enough elderly citizens in need of our assistance to occupy us into the evening hours. As night drew nigh once more, we climbed into transport vehicles and returned to our homes. At my house, we lit a massive bonfire and satiated the hunger of the pagan gods. We cooked the entrails of our sacrifices over the flames and filled our stomachs once more.
By this time, power had returned to my estate. It is by this power that I now relate to you this tale. And yet possessing this power is bittersweet. How long must we wait ere we are presented with such grand adventures as we have faced these past two days?
*Before I wrote this, I wrote down what really happened over the past few days. I will post the true story in a few days.
**Soon and very soon I will no longer be driving the red car! I will be driving a little green car instead. Huzzah!
***That assignment is the only part of the story that has no hint of exaggeration. I really do have to transpose by ear the first 16 measures of Beethoven's 5th Symphony for all the instruments by Friday.
On Sunday, the tri-state area experienced a vicious wind-storm brought to us by hurricane Ike. The strength of the wind took down powerlines all over the place. This is the story of what happened during and after the winds blew.*
As I pulled into the driveway, I saw two intrepid adventurers making their way up through the treacherous branches of the monolithic white pine in front of my home. Despite the fact that the tree was a wounded war veteran who had survived an ice storm and was thus missing all limbs on one side of its massive trunk, my two oldest sisters clambered up into it to enjoy the wind's fury from a higher perch. After depositing my bag of holding and my unwanted foot-wear in my bedchamber, I rushed to join them in their adventure.
We crept to the highest reaches of the tree, far above the rooftops of our fiefdom. The branches swayed and creaked dangerously, but we had no fear. Stalwart adventurers never have fear. Instead we had breath-taking exhilaration. It was fantastic.
We had barely entered our home once more when a startling discovery was made: we had no power! How on earth was I to begin my music theory quest to transpose by ear the first 16 measures of Beethoven's 5th Symphony for all the instruments*** if I did not have that song on my ipod? Worse yet, my ipod had barely any battery left. How could I hope to survive without tunes? The power-restoring mages could only hope that we would have power again within a week. A week is too long for any hero to go without her tunes. Being the hardy fellow that I am, I readied myself for the ordeal to come.
Other adventurers from our local guild traveled many yards over asphalt and grass to reach our home and suggest that we go in search of other brave souls to join us in outdoors games not designed for those who are faint of heart. On the way, I saw a creature skitter through the fallen branches to my right (I think it was to my right. I'll just say it was to the east of me. I can be much more certain about that). I turned quickly and beheld a truly fearsome sight. A squirrel-beast of rare stature reared up on its powerfully muscled legs and prepared to attack my friends and me. I faced the monster fearlessly. It didn't take me long to send him away cowering.
Night was upon us earlier than usual. With ominous clouds filling the sky, the sun's weakened rays gave up on trying to reach us. I continued to study books of ancient lore far into the night and even sent a letter written in secret code to an agent in the army.
We received a call informing us that my Academy was also powerless. Powerless Academies are no Academies at all. Filled with shame, they informed their students that their presence would not be required the next day.
As dawn broke the next day, we still had no power. We stored only the most vitally important of out perishable victuals in insulated boxes of coldness and began to clear the wreckage of the storm from the lawn of our estate. The branches ripped and tore at our flesh and clothing, but we persevered despite these hardships. A few of my kin joined me in stock-piling weapons in the event that we would have to keep vicious villains away from our family. I made a daring attempt to save a faithful tree from the shame of a dead branch hanging limply from the tree's proud form, but I failed. The failure stung far more deeply than any wounds I had received, but I bore the emotional burden stoically.
It seemed as though my siblings and I had not stored up weapons in vain. Armed travellers approached our backyard near midday. We realized to our relief that these good people meant us no harm. They were true heroes and had fought many a brutal battle to rise to positions of fame amongst our people. As we basked in the aura of such accomplished champions of good, a motley crew of our friends approached us and invited us to join them on a long trek to the other side of the Hamlet of Finneytown. They had heard the the good baker Bruegger still had power, and they were on their way to seek fresh food from his ovens.
As we crossed bustling highways and climbed treacherous slopes, our ranks swelled as more comrades joined us in our quest. Although our group was light-hearted and hopeful, there were a few gruesome scenes that brought tears to the eyes of even the most reserved of our number. Several of our forest friends had fallen in the overpowering winds, including my two best dryad friends. May their pure souls rest in peace.
Once we had eaten our fill of goodly Bruegger's fine fare, we headed out in search of good deeds that needed doing. There were more than enough elderly citizens in need of our assistance to occupy us into the evening hours. As night drew nigh once more, we climbed into transport vehicles and returned to our homes. At my house, we lit a massive bonfire and satiated the hunger of the pagan gods. We cooked the entrails of our sacrifices over the flames and filled our stomachs once more.
By this time, power had returned to my estate. It is by this power that I now relate to you this tale. And yet possessing this power is bittersweet. How long must we wait ere we are presented with such grand adventures as we have faced these past two days?
*Before I wrote this, I wrote down what really happened over the past few days. I will post the true story in a few days.
**Soon and very soon I will no longer be driving the red car! I will be driving a little green car instead. Huzzah!
***That assignment is the only part of the story that has no hint of exaggeration. I really do have to transpose by ear the first 16 measures of Beethoven's 5th Symphony for all the instruments by Friday.
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
from the whole a part
i am from farmers and mechanics and boilermakers
loss of hearing and digits
carrot tops and ginger kids and little reds
i am from tea parties and tree climbing
nail polish and grass stains
barbies and legos
flower fairies and star wars
i am from michigan ice cream and indiana pizza
tchaikovsky and rich mullins
john dog and ria kitty
lewis and jacques and tolkein
our father who art in heaven hallowed be thy name and you are my sunshine my only sunshine
i am quietly shouting my independence
identifying with those before
facing my future unafraid
In every year of high school thus far, one of the first english class assignments has been some sort of creative writing piece describing ourselves. This year we were to write poems about how our past has influenced who we are now. Mine opened up this post. I explained it and shared it with my english class, and so now I share it with and explain it to you, my readers. I believe there are four of you now. Hurrah!
The most obvious thing about my poem is probably the rejection of capital letters and punctuation. I really don't like capital letters all that much, and I generally skimp on punctuation in my poems, so Ms. Miller said I could just omit both altogether. She said it reminded her of e.e. cummings, so I decided to take after another one of his stylistic techniques. The title is purposefully ambiguous, especially when heard rather than seen. It says that I'm both a part of the whole and apart from the whole. While I love being a part of my family, I also seek to be something apart from them.
In the first stanza I talk about my parents and other older relatives. The first two parts of the first line are just as they appear (the farmer and mechanic parts), but the third (the boilermaker part) is not. Purdue's mascot is the boilermaker, and a lot of my family members have gone there. On my dad's side, my dad, his brother, both his parents, and his dad's dad all went there. On my mom's side, my mom, her dad, his brother (I think), and several of her first, second, and third cousins went to Purdue. If I go there as I'm planning to, I'll be the fourth generation there in a direct line on my dad's side and the third generation in a direct line on my mom's side. The second line refers to the fact that members of my dad's side of the family are prone to hearing loss and many members of my mom's side of the family are missing fingers or toes from various accidents. The third line is a reference to the fact that I've got red-heads sprinkled all over both sides of my family (including my parents, who both used to have red hair). That would explain why myself and four of my six other siblings have undeniably red hair.
The entire second stanza not only tells about things that I enjoyed as a younger child, but it also shows that I had a wide range of interests. While I liked girly things, I also loved getting dirty and doing some tom-boy-ish things. The third stanza is about memories and old traditions. Whenever we visited my mom's parents in Michigan, we used to go to the same ice cream parlor. They had all sorts of fun flavors. My mom's grandparents live in Indiana, and whenever we visit them we eat Pizza King pizza (it's delicious). For several years, my mom, my sisters, and I used to go see the Cincinnati Ballet's performance of the Nutcracker every winter. That tradition kindled within me a love for Tchaikovsky's music that continues to this day. My dad has several Rich Mullins tapes that we used to listen to on road trips. I can probably sing every single song by now. John Dog was the name of the dog that my older brother got for his fifth birthday. He died just two winters ago at the age of thirteen. We all miss him. Ria Kitty is a stuffed cat I got in Washington, D.C. when I was five. I had lost my Ria Baby and Oatmeal Bear on the subway, so I got Ria Kitty. C.S. Lewis, Brian Jacques, and J.R.R. Tolkein were three authors whose works I read often as I grew up. The last line of the third stanza got chopped in half, but it's still meant to be one line. The first half refers to a family tradition established longer ago than I can remember. Every night we all say the Lord's Prayer together. The second half is a line from a song that my dad and I sang every night when I was little. It had within it a line that we argued about every night as part of the tradition.
The final stanza is just some stuff about appreciating where I've come from, yet wanting to be something a little different that those before me. I pretty much already explained that part when I explained the title.
loss of hearing and digits
carrot tops and ginger kids and little reds
i am from tea parties and tree climbing
nail polish and grass stains
barbies and legos
flower fairies and star wars
i am from michigan ice cream and indiana pizza
tchaikovsky and rich mullins
john dog and ria kitty
lewis and jacques and tolkein
our father who art in heaven hallowed be thy name and you are my sunshine my only sunshine
i am quietly shouting my independence
identifying with those before
facing my future unafraid
In every year of high school thus far, one of the first english class assignments has been some sort of creative writing piece describing ourselves. This year we were to write poems about how our past has influenced who we are now. Mine opened up this post. I explained it and shared it with my english class, and so now I share it with and explain it to you, my readers. I believe there are four of you now. Hurrah!
The most obvious thing about my poem is probably the rejection of capital letters and punctuation. I really don't like capital letters all that much, and I generally skimp on punctuation in my poems, so Ms. Miller said I could just omit both altogether. She said it reminded her of e.e. cummings, so I decided to take after another one of his stylistic techniques. The title is purposefully ambiguous, especially when heard rather than seen. It says that I'm both a part of the whole and apart from the whole. While I love being a part of my family, I also seek to be something apart from them.
In the first stanza I talk about my parents and other older relatives. The first two parts of the first line are just as they appear (the farmer and mechanic parts), but the third (the boilermaker part) is not. Purdue's mascot is the boilermaker, and a lot of my family members have gone there. On my dad's side, my dad, his brother, both his parents, and his dad's dad all went there. On my mom's side, my mom, her dad, his brother (I think), and several of her first, second, and third cousins went to Purdue. If I go there as I'm planning to, I'll be the fourth generation there in a direct line on my dad's side and the third generation in a direct line on my mom's side. The second line refers to the fact that members of my dad's side of the family are prone to hearing loss and many members of my mom's side of the family are missing fingers or toes from various accidents. The third line is a reference to the fact that I've got red-heads sprinkled all over both sides of my family (including my parents, who both used to have red hair). That would explain why myself and four of my six other siblings have undeniably red hair.
The entire second stanza not only tells about things that I enjoyed as a younger child, but it also shows that I had a wide range of interests. While I liked girly things, I also loved getting dirty and doing some tom-boy-ish things. The third stanza is about memories and old traditions. Whenever we visited my mom's parents in Michigan, we used to go to the same ice cream parlor. They had all sorts of fun flavors. My mom's grandparents live in Indiana, and whenever we visit them we eat Pizza King pizza (it's delicious). For several years, my mom, my sisters, and I used to go see the Cincinnati Ballet's performance of the Nutcracker every winter. That tradition kindled within me a love for Tchaikovsky's music that continues to this day. My dad has several Rich Mullins tapes that we used to listen to on road trips. I can probably sing every single song by now. John Dog was the name of the dog that my older brother got for his fifth birthday. He died just two winters ago at the age of thirteen. We all miss him. Ria Kitty is a stuffed cat I got in Washington, D.C. when I was five. I had lost my Ria Baby and Oatmeal Bear on the subway, so I got Ria Kitty. C.S. Lewis, Brian Jacques, and J.R.R. Tolkein were three authors whose works I read often as I grew up. The last line of the third stanza got chopped in half, but it's still meant to be one line. The first half refers to a family tradition established longer ago than I can remember. Every night we all say the Lord's Prayer together. The second half is a line from a song that my dad and I sang every night when I was little. It had within it a line that we argued about every night as part of the tradition.
The final stanza is just some stuff about appreciating where I've come from, yet wanting to be something a little different that those before me. I pretty much already explained that part when I explained the title.
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