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Thursday, March 11, 2010
Dear Reader of Mine
Dear Reader
It was 27 years ago that I last graced a classroom with my presence. I graduated from high school in Alaska, and worked in the construction trades for a year before joining the military. After the military, I worked in a couple of meaningless jobs and three different trade jobs. I am back in school due to a bad fall off a ladder while working on recreational vehicles, the proverbial straw that broke the camels back. I have a great desire to put that life behind me once I have finished school. I have the honor of being married to a truly wonderful and understanding woman and we have four really great, but different kids between the two of us. We jokingly call ourselves the Brady Bunch.
It was 27 years ago that I last graced a classroom with my presence. I graduated from high school in Alaska, and worked in the construction trades for a year before joining the military. After the military, I worked in a couple of meaningless jobs and three different trade jobs. I am back in school due to a bad fall off a ladder while working on recreational vehicles, the proverbial straw that broke the camels back. I have a great desire to put that life behind me once I have finished school. I have the honor of being married to a truly wonderful and understanding woman and we have four really great, but different kids between the two of us. We jokingly call ourselves the Brady Bunch.
I had not written anything of substance since being stationed aboard a ship while in the US Navy. There had been so many stories to write about back then, and so much free time to write them in. Recently, my sister sent me a packet of short stories and poems that I had written when I was younger. They had brought back memories of when writing was fun. While I say that writing was fun, I actually had no idea what I was doing. All of my punctuation was misplaced, or non-existent. There were so many things that I needed to learn about writing and punctuation, but as you will see through my E-portfolio. I have learned quite a lot; however, I am sticking it out for English 98.
Included in my E-portfolio are a few of my favorite papers for various reasons. There were enough choices to choose from in our course. The first paper to come is “A Worthy Journey.” Writing this story, took me back through what turned out to be a fun, happy trip. After much deliberation, I decided to include journal number thirteen from week seven “Need or Want.” Shortly after I was finished writing that paper, I called both of my brothers and talked to each of them for quite some time. To follow journal thirteen I have brought long forgotten memories to paper in “Little Green Machine” that was journal eight. To bring the final paper to life was my occupation for over four years, and that is the process paper “Keeping the Rain Out.”
I hope that you will enjoy your trip through the memories that I had originally put on paper in the following writings. They have been quite a wake-up call to go through after learning so much in the preceding weeks, and realizing how lax I was in my writing.
Intro to A Worthy Journey
The writing that I am going to begin with was major writing assignment two. The title “A Worthy Journey” is exactly what it had turned out to be. We in English 97E were assigned this paper during weeks five and six. This was our descriptive assignment and I believe I best display it with the following sentence, “this was a very detailed map, on a paper towel done on a, dirty, and warped picnic table in the campground. The man who had drawn the map had been quite sure of himself when he said,” It’s done pretty much to scale, you just follow this road around the lake and keep the water in view.” I hope you enjoy this journey as much as we did.
A Worthy Journey
A Worthy Journey
My wife Dina and I love to take adventures in our four by four, usually to out of the way locations where there are no neighbors. Last summer was supposed to be a little different, a nice relaxing stay in a state park, yet it turned into one heck of an adventure. We took several days in August and drove over to Rufus Woods Lake in Eastern Washington. We had that truck packed to the top with everything a couple needed to camp comfortably along with a 12-foot boat and motor sticking out of the back. When we got to the state campground, we could not believe how lush, and green everything was, the grass was nicely kept, there were some beautiful flowering cherry trees, and there were marmots everywhere. Although the campground was very nice, we were there to fish, not sightsee. It was not until later that night that we learned that the best fishing was sixteen miles up the river, at a place called the net pens. Where the campground is situated, the lake, which is actually a huge reservoir, is almost a mile wide and the water is moving quite fast. By the time we had our tent set up, we had met several other campers and they were telling us that the winds in this area will start blowing extremely hard and very suddenly, making us decide to be safe and not attempt to take our little boat out on the water. After some more talking, along with a couple of drinks, we decided to drive to the fishing hole in the morning. There was only one problem with this idea; we had gotten opposing directions from three different people. It was time for us to do some exploring.
Dina and I had been on several adventures like this before. It was only sixteen miles up the river. We woke up as early as possible, loaded the truck, and headed on our journey to find those record size trout we had been hearing about. The night before, we had decided to follow the directions in the same order that we had received them. After we had driven for approximately ten miles up through some very beautiful, yet rough, hilly countryside with apple orchards as far as the naked eye could see, Dina said, “Obviously, since we’re farther from the river than when we started this was the wrong way. Let’s turn around and try again.”
We turned around and drove directly into a breath-taking sunrise. I was so happy we had our sunglasses on. If only our sunglass had been twice as dark as they were. Seeing that magnificent sunrise was worth being lost. If we were going to be on an adventure, better to have an awesome day. It had burned up a good half hour having to back track to the main road. In the back of my mind I was thinking to myself, “Are we going to get to fish today?”
Onward we journeyed, to the second set of directions. This was a very detailed map, drawn on a paper towel on a dirty and warped picnic table in the campground. The man who had drawn the map had been quite sure of himself when he had said, “It’s done pretty much to scale, and you just follow this around the lake and keep the water in view.” Off we drove, in a big Dodge 4x4 that gets 12 miles per gallon. I was looking forward to some great fishing. After driving and sightseeing, the lake was in view the whole time and we came to a dead end in an apple orchard. I looked at the odometer on the truck, and we had only gone ten miles from the campground. Now we were not only lost, we were getting really pissed off, and starting to raise our voices at each other. Apparently, we were heading back to the main road again. We were now down to the last option, directions number three. We had been driving for almost two hours by this time.
The final set of directions had come from someone that was not from the area; consequently, this was the reason for us not using these first. We set off on a highway heading south and then it switched directions to go around the lake. The guy that gave us the directions had said, it’s quite a few miles upriver just keep driving until you see the Trading Post. At this point take a left and follow it for several miles and you can’t miss the fishing hole. After being lost for fifty miles already, what was another twenty miles to us weary travelers. After 2 plus hours and approximately one hundred miles, we were able to see the net pens that people had been mentioning to us about being the place to fish. They were just down the hill, using the term hill loosely; this hill was more like a mountain. By this time, I was chomping at the bit to be fishing. As we drove down the mountain into the valley, we lost track of where the pens were and as we were doing fifty miles an hour, we flew right past what I thought was a gravel pit. I realized at the last possible second that this was the entrance to the net pens. One last u-turn, legal or not and we were closing in on some fishing. After almost three hours of driving, we spent about two hours fishing before we had our limit of monster-sized trout. Looking back, those four fish were worth the journey, for without a journey there would be no adventure.
My wife Dina and I love to take adventures in our four by four, usually to out of the way locations where there are no neighbors. Last summer was supposed to be a little different, a nice relaxing stay in a state park, yet it turned into one heck of an adventure. We took several days in August and drove over to Rufus Woods Lake in Eastern Washington. We had that truck packed to the top with everything a couple needed to camp comfortably along with a 12-foot boat and motor sticking out of the back. When we got to the state campground, we could not believe how lush, and green everything was, the grass was nicely kept, there were some beautiful flowering cherry trees, and there were marmots everywhere. Although the campground was very nice, we were there to fish, not sightsee. It was not until later that night that we learned that the best fishing was sixteen miles up the river, at a place called the net pens. Where the campground is situated, the lake, which is actually a huge reservoir, is almost a mile wide and the water is moving quite fast. By the time we had our tent set up, we had met several other campers and they were telling us that the winds in this area will start blowing extremely hard and very suddenly, making us decide to be safe and not attempt to take our little boat out on the water. After some more talking, along with a couple of drinks, we decided to drive to the fishing hole in the morning. There was only one problem with this idea; we had gotten opposing directions from three different people. It was time for us to do some exploring.
Dina and I had been on several adventures like this before. It was only sixteen miles up the river. We woke up as early as possible, loaded the truck, and headed on our journey to find those record size trout we had been hearing about. The night before, we had decided to follow the directions in the same order that we had received them. After we had driven for approximately ten miles up through some very beautiful, yet rough, hilly countryside with apple orchards as far as the naked eye could see, Dina said, “Obviously, since we’re farther from the river than when we started this was the wrong way. Let’s turn around and try again.”
We turned around and drove directly into a breath-taking sunrise. I was so happy we had our sunglasses on. If only our sunglass had been twice as dark as they were. Seeing that magnificent sunrise was worth being lost. If we were going to be on an adventure, better to have an awesome day. It had burned up a good half hour having to back track to the main road. In the back of my mind I was thinking to myself, “Are we going to get to fish today?”
Onward we journeyed, to the second set of directions. This was a very detailed map, drawn on a paper towel on a dirty and warped picnic table in the campground. The man who had drawn the map had been quite sure of himself when he had said, “It’s done pretty much to scale, and you just follow this around the lake and keep the water in view.” Off we drove, in a big Dodge 4x4 that gets 12 miles per gallon. I was looking forward to some great fishing. After driving and sightseeing, the lake was in view the whole time and we came to a dead end in an apple orchard. I looked at the odometer on the truck, and we had only gone ten miles from the campground. Now we were not only lost, we were getting really pissed off, and starting to raise our voices at each other. Apparently, we were heading back to the main road again. We were now down to the last option, directions number three. We had been driving for almost two hours by this time.
The final set of directions had come from someone that was not from the area; consequently, this was the reason for us not using these first. We set off on a highway heading south and then it switched directions to go around the lake. The guy that gave us the directions had said, it’s quite a few miles upriver just keep driving until you see the Trading Post. At this point take a left and follow it for several miles and you can’t miss the fishing hole. After being lost for fifty miles already, what was another twenty miles to us weary travelers. After 2 plus hours and approximately one hundred miles, we were able to see the net pens that people had been mentioning to us about being the place to fish. They were just down the hill, using the term hill loosely; this hill was more like a mountain. By this time, I was chomping at the bit to be fishing. As we drove down the mountain into the valley, we lost track of where the pens were and as we were doing fifty miles an hour, we flew right past what I thought was a gravel pit. I realized at the last possible second that this was the entrance to the net pens. One last u-turn, legal or not and we were closing in on some fishing. After almost three hours of driving, we spent about two hours fishing before we had our limit of monster-sized trout. Looking back, those four fish were worth the journey, for without a journey there would be no adventure.
Intro to Need or Want
Coming second in the line-up is journal thirteen, “Need or Want”. This journal entry is one turned in during week nine, regarding the story in our textbook titled “Dumpster Diving.” We were supposed to write a story that went along the same story line as “Dumpster Diving.”I took this story and used it to go down memory lane. You will see the similarities between the two stories as you read the following line from, “Need or Want”. “If a person brought frivolous items, he would not have room for the essentials to survive.” If you have ever gone on a multiple day hike you will know what this is journal entry is all about.
Need or Want
Need or Want
In his essay Dumpster Diving, the author states that a thing that is not useful has no value. I can relate to this statement to a certain point. If you do not have an immediate need for something when you have no place to keep it, why have it.
My brothers and I used to go on multiple day hunting and fishing trips where if you did not need something, it stayed home. We only had so much room in our backpacks and we had to carry our fish or game, along with our garbage out of the area we had been camping. If a person brought extra, he would not have room for the essentials to survive. We would often cook what we had caught, or shot, so meat was not something that we needed, it was the flour, spices and bread were important and light enough to carry. The survival gear was the most important thing to go in the packs that we carried.
While I was in the military overseas, there had been numerous times that I wanted to buy an item knowing that I had no place to store it until we got back to the states. While onboard ship we had only the room in our bunks, which was six inches deep and 3 foot by 6 foot, and a very small locker. The lockers that we had were smaller than a high school locker and had just enough room to fit a couple of dress uniforms and two coats. Many items were left in the stores of Naples, Italy, Palma de le Marco, Spain and several other countries that our ship visited. I wish I could have bought the Alfa Romeo Spyder that I had been looking at also. That car had captured my heart back then, it was a beautiful burgundy with a black ragtop, and definitely not something that was a need item at that time in my life.
In his essay Dumpster Diving, the author states that a thing that is not useful has no value. I can relate to this statement to a certain point. If you do not have an immediate need for something when you have no place to keep it, why have it.
My brothers and I used to go on multiple day hunting and fishing trips where if you did not need something, it stayed home. We only had so much room in our backpacks and we had to carry our fish or game, along with our garbage out of the area we had been camping. If a person brought extra, he would not have room for the essentials to survive. We would often cook what we had caught, or shot, so meat was not something that we needed, it was the flour, spices and bread were important and light enough to carry. The survival gear was the most important thing to go in the packs that we carried.
While I was in the military overseas, there had been numerous times that I wanted to buy an item knowing that I had no place to store it until we got back to the states. While onboard ship we had only the room in our bunks, which was six inches deep and 3 foot by 6 foot, and a very small locker. The lockers that we had were smaller than a high school locker and had just enough room to fit a couple of dress uniforms and two coats. Many items were left in the stores of Naples, Italy, Palma de le Marco, Spain and several other countries that our ship visited. I wish I could have bought the Alfa Romeo Spyder that I had been looking at also. That car had captured my heart back then, it was a beautiful burgundy with a black ragtop, and definitely not something that was a need item at that time in my life.
Intro to Little Green Machine
I chose journal eight from week four for my third entry. Our journal was to be about a first of something, I titled my entry “Little Green Machine”. It is about my first car that I had bought as a teenager. This was actually a fun little story to write because I remembered how well my brothers and I got along as shown in one line from the story. “I got the car home and went straight to work on it, within the first day my brother and I had engine pulled and started cleaning it up, getting ready to rebuild it”. After only four weeks in school and my writing has gone from single line messages and notes to multiple paragraphs.
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