Who's Weird? Apparently I am, Three Things My Husband Finds Weird about Me

We all have our peculiar mannerisms that make us the weird humans we are in life. I must admit, at first when approaching this essay, I was going to use the weird idiosyncrasies that makes my husband so unique, being from “the port bub” he has a sufficiently large number of weirdisms. However upon deeper thought, and not because he is taking me away for the weekend after this final, I’ve decide to write about my own weird traits that he is forced to live with because, well he married me! I am sure I must have three, I would definitely have to think very hard to come up with three items of weirdness, but in the interest of a successful weekend, or eh all’s fair in love and weirdness, I was willing to put it all out there and take one for the team.

First let me say, in my life food is a necessity, a source of comfort, a staple, and a daily requirement.  As prior essay confession will show I do not like vegetables. However my distaste for the veg does not hinder me from partaking in a vast variety of food items. You can imagine I enjoy baked beans, rolls, seafood, pork, beef, venison, and on and on. Sounds pretty normal right?  This is where things get weird, at no time in my eating, does any food item touch another food item on my plate. I also go to great lengths to keep my food from touching and mingling together. At home we have separated plates, with divider slots so that everything stays well within its borders and territories. When I go out to eat, it can be a little complicated separating the food on my plate, but I assure you it can be done. Wraps unwrap with a single flip at the college luncheonette and I proceed to eat the meat, cheese and bread all separately. Fruit salad isn’t even safe, as it may come in a little cup, but it can be dumped out onto a plate, separated according to size and color, and then enjoyed one bite at a time as was intended from the beginning. What is all this hub-bub about combining food items, and don’t even get me started on shepherd’s pie, that meal is way too much food touching each other. Casseroles, chop suey and even pork fried rice can all be enjoyed separated and eaten one item at a time.

Secondly, and this may not be as weird as my husband says it is, but I have a particular way that my socks have to go on my feet. In 2005 I broke my ankle and had a cast for 6 weeks. During that time my husband very graciously had to put my socks over my toes and stretch the rest over my cast as far as it would go. As if it wasn’t aggravating enough trying to get the sock over the cast, it was even more aggravating that he didn’t understand the rules of sock donning.  There is a line sewn across the top of the toe of most all socks, at least the ones I can afford. This line, though hidden from the outside, has a very distinct starting and ending point on the inside of the sock. If one isn’t careful the starting and ending knots of the thread that the sewn line creates can become rather bothersome on the great toe and pinky toe. Therefore the line of the sock must be straight across the top of the toes and a gentle tug at both sides of the toes to remove any bumps the toes might feel from the sew lines. All this prior to ever putting on a shoe. Sock comfort is right up there with underwear comfort, it only goes on one way and no bunches allowed!

Thirdly, I have a certain way clothes and towels are folded when they come out of the dryer while still warm so no one has to iron. Towels are to be folded bilaterally length wise, then flipped three times first time away from the folder, one time back toward the folder and finally away from the folder one last time. All this to attain uniformity and fit in the closet and look neat so when someone sees the closet contents, like a nosy mother-in-law, the towels are not shoved in there all helter skelter like. Likewise pants have to be folded in such a manner that the pants are snapped fresh out of the dryer, folded with the butt together, a gentle tug at the crotch and another quick snap. Next use the same towel tri fold to achieve perfect size of the folded pant in the dresser drawer. If that sounds weird to anyone else besides me then color me surprised indeed. I thought everyone learned to fold clothes the same way I did. Clearly the expression on my darling husbands face the first time I showed him how to fold clothes and towels definitely let me know I was not getting to the make sense part of his brain. After numerous attempts we have decided I will fold the clothes and towels. It just makes perfect sense. 

In conclusion, I would just like to defend my weirdness as perfectly normal behavior to me. I see nothing wrong with savoring each individual bite of my food as it is supposed to taste not mushed together with a bunch of different foods and then I don’t know what I am tasting, all this while wearing my perfectly toe aligned socks and crisp pants free from wrinkles of an otherwise crazy life.

Respectfully submitted-Linisa E Beal

Divison Essay The Road in Front of My House

I am writing about the road in front of my childhood home for two reasons one because it was the last time I actually was able to just sit and watch traffic for lacking of nothing better to do. Two, I now live on a drive not a road. I have history on the Wyman Road it was also where my mother grew up and it only seems natural that I too would experience the best times of my youth on that road. Although our viewing pleasure was only 125 feet long of road footage, my siblings and I agree we definitely had the best spot on the whole road to view all sorts of antics.

First, there was a small hill, we called it a belly tickler, there due to the ledge that ran under the piece of road in front of my house, was cause for much laughter. The cars back then where big gas hogs. Many of them did not have proper shock absorbers under them. On more than one occasion we would watch the cars speed by our home and hit that small piece of hill and bounce a great distance afterward and even spin off a hub cap on to our property somewhere. You didn't even have to be present to know that someone was going to fast and hit the belly tickler, the scraping of their exhaust system was clue enough. I'm fairly sure we could have opened up a shop for exhaust repair and hub cap recovery.

Secondly, the distance between our dooryard and mailbox, which was directly across the road from our house, was six giant steps or twelve small baby steps or ten hops or five crooked cartwheels wide. It really depended on who was watching from the living room window how you actually crossed the road to get to the mailbox. Safely crossing the road was not always the best decision made by an eight year old. I left a lot of knee skin on that particular path to the mailbox. But I never got ran over like my mother always predicted. She would say, "one of these days you're going to get run over cutting up like that." She was very good at giving warning advice prior to trauma that never seemed to happen.

Thirdly, when the boy starting coming around in his car and showing off is when I must admit I did the most embarrassing thing I ever did on that road. As if it was some sort of romantic ritual, he was very talented at leaving rubber tire marks on the road in front of my house. I remember being more impressed with the smoke from the tires than the actually rubber mark itself. However, one time, after a long tire mark was left behind, said boy kissed me, he didn't even ask first. Again I wasn't as impressed with the kiss as much as needing to capture a piece of tangible history to mark the event. So I ran into my house after he left and took a picture of the skid marks on the road with my Kodak Instamatic 126. I kept that piece of history for years and though it seems funny to admit now I would totally do the same thing today.

When I return to the Wyman Road, I smile at all the memories made on that road many still very fresh in my head today. I'm even more sure when people ride by that small piece road, they don't think about the little blonde haired girl that lived there for nine years. They don't know about the excitement that ledge contained or the secrets of the bump belly tickler that seems to be a whole lot smaller now than I remember. I'll bet the few times I missed a cartwheel and dragged my DNA across the road was never given another thought once the rain would wash the blood away. But as for those tire marks that kept showing up in front of our house that caused my parents such confusion during that summer in 1979, I still have a picture, somewhere, that represents my historic first kiss and a pretty nice set burned rubber tire marks.

Process Essay #9 Three Step Process to Attaining my Three Dogs

As previously stated, my love for animals is relatively new, probably within the past five years. We have three Maltepoo’s. A Maltepoo is a Maltese and toy poodle mix. They are only breed once, which means maltepoo offspring are not allowed to breed. The journeys of their arrival into our home are not more than 24 months apart. We do not have any children living with us now that help take care of the dogs. We are our own little family; we have certainly grown on each other, and learned a lot about each other’s personalities. The unconditional love they return to us far outweighs the demand they are on our time. For this reason I can’t be sure we aren’t going to go spontaneously go get yet another dog from our breeder. We seem to be old hats at it by now.

The first step in finding our first dog led us to finding our breeder. ATender1’s Puppies came highly recommended from the friend who also had the first Maltepoo we had ever seen. When people hear the word breeder visions of run down puppy mills and deplorable conditions in which puppies and dogs of all ages are forced to live come to mind. Just because she has a nice looking website, a license and she is an inspected breeder within the State of Maine does nothing to quench that vision in my head. So we took a drive to Norway one day in to see for ourselves. We found out a lot about our breeder that day, and have since become very good friends. Just an important though we found out a lot about the breed that day. They are do not have an undercoat so they are non-shed, they don’t usually get bigger than ten pounds, and they like to bark. They have great personalities and love people of all ages. Truly to this day I don’t know how we were able to leave her home that day without a puppy.

The second step was finding a good vet because of the intense aftercare we needed to provide, as stated in our signed contract from the breeder, which had to commence by the fifth day we had our puppy at home. This important step obviously had to take place before we had our puppy. We were concerned that we wouldn’t be able to find a good vet that was taking new puppy patients. Yet again, upon a wonderful friend’s reference, we were able to secure a wonderful vet. We showed him our contract and set up the necessary shot appointments and mandatory spaying of our girl that was required by the breeder. We were not interested in paying an additional 200.00 for breeding rights.

The third step was picking out a puppy, a step that involved a little backwards planning. We had to wait for dog that met our qualifications to be born. We had a three stipulations we left the breeder with, we wanted her coat to all-white Maltepoo, the dog had to be a female, and if at all possible, the runt of the litter. We gave her a standing deposit to be applied when we made our final purchase. We began a two month wait, as many male dogs or brindle colored females were born. Finally, our Gracie was born on March 8 2008. She was the only female in a litter with two other males and she was indeed the smallest in the litter. We waiting 9 weeks after her birth to go retrieve her and brought her home on Mother’s Day!

The same steps were used in acquiring all three of our dogs as they all have come from the same breeder. If it isn’t broke don’t fix it, we always say.  The question of why three dogs in my even numbered world I live in, remains unanswered. However, we acquired the second dog, for a companion to the first, and the third because everyone deserves a home at Christmas time. I have to admit even though we are friends on facebook I stay away from our breeder friend’s website because I’m afraid of what will happen when I see the photos of the newest pups that are readily available. Although it would even up the numbers for me!

Effect Essay #8 What am I?

 I can effect your mood, relieve stress, lower your blood pressure, while being extremely contagious. At the same time I've been known to boost your immune system and even release endorphins to make you feel fabulous. I come in many shapes and sizes with too many motives to list. Due to my flexibility factors, I can be cracked with little effort and quickly widen to an almost breaking point. Don't underestimate my effects I don't have to be used all the time or last a long time to be as powerful as I am. I have no shame in who I use to accomplish my survival.

Today as I left a homeless man that was walking down the street, I remembered it was the first time he had used me in years. Deep inside himself he was completely convinced he was done using me. But I showed him who was boss when someone passed him a hundred dollar bill. He was using me again just like old times. As he walked down the street his head high for the first time in years. He passed me around and around like a cheap drug. I infected numerous people that day.


A recent widow walked by that day and saw my friend the homeless man. She had been married to her husband for 50 years and gave me to her husband every day without knowing how I was affecting him. He told her on his death bed, what sorrows had been drowned in me for many days of their married life, as a result of her always being ready to make sure he had me. Since his death she had stopped using me, it was no fun for her to use me now that she was alone, or so she thought. She walked towards my friend the homeless man who gave her such a contact high before passing him by, man it was good to be used by her again!


My reacquainted friend the widow, made her rejuvenated self into the hospital to attend to her duties as a volunteer. GASP! I love the hospital it is my favorite place to spread myself around. She rolled her flower buggy on to the cancer floor, the CANCER FLOOR! People with cancer love me! Slowly we rolled into room 805 where an eleven year old girl with no hair and a short time to live sat upright in bed. The look on the little girls face caused me such excitement, I knew soon I would change it for there is no immunization against me. As the flowers were passed from the widow to the little girl, their hands touched, and I leapt from the woman to the girl with no remorse. From my perspective my day couldn't get any better.


Is this an effect essay or an effective riddle? Do you know what I am, if you do, you know my effect on the homeless man, the widow, and young girl with cancer, and this essay makes perfect sense and deserves an A. If you haven't figured it out yet, then it's an awesome effective riddle. However, in the interest of a good grade however I'm sure I don't have to tell you I am a ____________.

Timed Essay #2 * describe the effects on your vehicle of the roads you drive

   I love my Yukon all 199 inches of it. It's white, it's sporty, it's safe and it's mine. It even has a nickname, Cornelius, as in Yukon Cornelius from the movie Rudolph and the Misfit Toys. I'm not ashamed to admit I have a passion concerning my truck. So tell me why oh why would I want to drive it on the roads in Downeast Maine? Can they even be classified as roads? Im pretty sure during the past five years the roads have reeked havoic on my truck.

    My new truck had brand new tires on it. The tires were so new the whiskers were still on the tires. I'm driving to work in a snowstorm in four wheel drive. I'm feeling safe and a little confident. The new car smell had barely worn off when suddenly without warning the front of my truck felt as if someone was pulling into the ditch. I couldn't imagine what was happening. I slowed to the side of the road and sure enough I had a flat tire. A flat tire on a brand new truck! How does that happen? A nail was found to be the culprit a one and a quarter inch galvanized roofing nail. Not impressed.
   My not so new truck with the not so new plugged tire, is tooling down the road on fine spring morning on my way to work. A black hole presents it's self in my distance line of site, wait a black hole? What is that? Before I could think swerve BANG! I hit it! I thought sure my bottom jaw wouldn't stop stuttering from the force of my teeth being slammed together. My cream colored coffee was on the gray ceiling and my truck didn't want to stop shimming. The rest of my ride to work my truck shook harder than a James Bond martini. One set of front end ball joints later my truck was running smooth again.
    My not so new truck with the not so new plugged tire, complete with a new set of front end ball joints and the cream colored coffee stain on the ceiling was without incident for the next three years. Then one day just like something off the pages of Murphy's Law I stepped on my brakes to slow down going around a corner and the peddle went to the floor board. So this is why we have bumpers on the front of vehicles, so when we no longer have brakes in emergency situations we can slowly come to a stop by gently nudging the poles on the side of the road. I always wondered what safety purpose the poles served. I would like to personally thank the Maine Department of Transportation for using the liquid salt slurry on the roads to protect me from icy roads. Unfortunately it also eats your brake lines and I just can't see using the salty mess as a safety measure.
    So there you have it, my not so new truck with the not so new plugged tire, complete with a new set of front end ball joints and the creme colored coffee stain on the gray ceiling with new brakes, is all geared up for more fun adventures on the Maine highways and roads or as we like to refer to them as, the salty nail beds full of black holes. Poor Cornelius will he ever be safe on the roads?

Example Essay T.O.E.

Terms of endearments have always been high on the list of things closest to my heart. Below are three of my favorite and the small history behind them. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I do writing about them.

My husband doesn't refer to me as his old lady. The number one reason for this is beside the disrespect involved is because I am really am older than him. For all you math freaks out there that like to have numbers confirm a relationship will last. I am seven years, seven months, and fourteen days older than my husband. 7+7=14. Meant to be, see?  The first endearing premarital nickname my husband gave me was Baby. But not just Baby, he has a certain Southern-Downeast drawl to it, so to spell it the way it sounds would be something like ba yh bee. It made me smile to hear the first time and it sounded so original it just stuck. To this day it remains one of my favorite words out of his mouth. Of course once we were married, much like every other princess, I received my official title that he refers to me as "my wife" especially when talking with others about me and I'm in the conversations as well. Not my wife, Linisa, but just "my wife". Of course I balance that out nicely by referring to him as "my husband".

My husband calls me "my help meet". He shares with me that during his daily prayer time he thanks God for me. Me! This little phrase is in the Bible in Genesis 2:18 and it says "And the LORD God said, It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him an help meet for him", It brings me a sense of honor to know that he pulls these little nuggets from the Bible and is able to use them in our marriage. Building strength in places that could go weak without reinforcement. He pays attention to even the smallest of details. He assures me in using this word "helpmeet" it means we are in this together. We will be there to help one another, to support each others decisions, and as a team not to be divided even by death. 

"My best friend." This one always makes my heart smile. You don't know my husband, but I can tell you that he has lots and lots of friends, relatives, acquaintances, customers, and people that know him he doesn't even remember. He was 29 when we met. He had a history path full of true friends, that he thinks dearly of, and they him. So for him to call me his best friend. His BFF takes my breath away! If you aren't friends first prior to being husband and wife, you can't expect a marriage of love, honesty, and faithfulness. But there is something special about really being best friends first before you are married. I can't really describe it other than I concur with him, I would give that title to no one else. 

So there you have it, three examples of terms of endearment that my husband uses for me. There are a few more but I don't want to have to wrestle you for your attention.Be complimentary and compliment your spouse. Don't be disrespectful. Thank you for letting share these three. I pray they have been an inspiration to you to treat your wife or your husband as your help meet and as your best friend. 

Process Essay #1 I Do, I Did, I Don't

"Marriage, marriage is what brings us together today" -the Impressive Clergyman from the Princess Bride. Whoops stay on topic this is not an essay about the Princess Bride, although, one of my all time favorite movies. It's just every time I hear the word marriage I hear that silly little clergyman stating that line from the movie, ever so eloquently with his mouth full of cotton balls. Though I'm not a Princess by namesake it safe to say I've kissed my share of toads. I was even so silly as to married two of them and to quote one of my most favorite "Linisa-ism's" concerning marriage/divorce is "The number one leading cause of divorce is in fact, marriage."  Sadly, I can say I know a thing or three about marriage, and for my two failed marriages it seemed to involve three stages, the I Do stage, I Did stage, and the I Don't stage.

To explain the first stage of my experiences known as the I DO stage,  you should know,  I hung on every word this man child told me like it will be the last words I would ever hear. I believed every thing that came out of his mouth, even if I had to deceive my own heart of hearts to do so. My ears were deafened to the words of wisdom from my parents, friends, co-workers, all I could hear was his voice over and over. He intrigued me. Looking back on it all now, if my parents had not forbid me to see him I would have been over him on my own. I was falling for the rebel side of the idea of making my parents worry.  I found myself scrawling our names on any piece of paper I could doodle on. Then, with one felled swoop of the pen I wrote it down. I wrote my first name and his last name. I was going to marry this guy.  He played into it perfectly, just like the fox in the hen house. He turned himself into the victim and with my caregiver personality I said YES I do want to be your wife. I knew the I Do stage had been successful when I was walking down the aisle to kiss my toad. 

The I did, stage starts with the fairy tale not quite measuring up to my I Do stage expectations. Life gets involved and to the immature at heart I felt second to his job, when he had one, then his friends, and lastly his activities. It was the subtle small things at first that I missed. The sweet nothing that were once so desperately whispered in my ear  faded to black like the end of a movie. My friends became unusually absent from their normal involvement in my life and it's activities. I wont go out on weekends any longer, I will stay home while he goes out with the guys. Bad habits of alcohol for him turn into worse habits of drug use. I did choose this man, by doing so, this life is the result. Futile measure have me trying to change myself as if I'm the one that changed in the relationship. I attempt a workout routine, do some weird stuff to my hair, and may even try to wear clothing that isn't comfortable in any position, all to gain his attention back. But did I really want his type of attention anymore. Communication breaks down in ways I can't even talk about and turns to violence that now has left me broken inside and out.  Days of abuse turn into weeks, weeks turn into years, and years turn me into a shell of my former self. Feelings of silliness give way to worthlessness and it washes over me like water cascading from the fountain of youth I long to return to. I'm about to enter a stage of no return in my marriage, someone that pays attention to me steps in and here I am in my I did stage. Wondering, is there a future with him?

The "I don't" stage begins with me facing with the reality of divorce. I manage to utter, I don't love you any more. I don't deserve to be treated this way. I don't like the person you've have become. He fires back with a lame response, I don't know what your problem is. I don't know why you think I'm acting any different. I've acted this way for years. With bowed head and closed eyes, I softly whisper I don't want to be married to you any longer. The last thing I remember him saying was I don't want to live without you and then a gun shot. I awoke in my bed alone, again. I was dripping in sweat, my heart was racing so fast I couldn't count my pulse. He wasn't home yet and I needed to get out of the house before he arrived. I opened my night stand, found some old paper and looked for a blank page. There starring me in the face was my handwriting where years earlier I had written our names, my married name and the date we married. It took my breath away, but I knew this would be perfect ending. I turned it over and wrote the following: This is what I wrote before I said I do, the years of trying with you is my effort and is what I did, and as of today's date I'm all done and I don't want to be married any to you any longer. 

I can tell you after going through this not once but twice before I turned thirty five I was very hesitant as an adult to remarry for a third time. I can tell you I took some time to get to know me. I'm a pretty cool person. I have a personality, that when allowed to shine, shines with the brightest of them! I am capable of being anything I want to be by myself.  I met and fell in love for real in February 2002. I do, I proudly promised in Aug 2004 because I did find the man of my dreams, after my line of toads and I don't ever intend on losing him. 

Reaction to first timed essay graf#19

I struggled on which two of our three dogs to write about. I decided I would go with the oldest and youngest. They also seem to have the most diverse personalities. In any case, I'm excited my essay was accepted and I can move on to the next. The one issue I have is trying to out think the teacher, and I must admit either he senses it and goes in the opposite direction each time anticipating my motive, or it's just bad luck on my part. I am talking about how I started graf's 2 and 3 with the word, Gracie. Then, when I started graf 4 I said to myself, I bet he will critique me for starting every paragraph with Gracie, I better change it up at least once and start this paragraph with Oscar, (you know for contrast) and wouldn't you know it, it was clearly not the choice I should have made. This ranks right up there with changing your answer on a test. All in a days writing though, it left me smiling.

#1 Timed Constrast Essay the personality differences in two animals you know.

   In my life I have never had a time for nor want animals. I was bitten by a neighborhood dog when I was about nine on the forearm. I never had any real interest in dogs from that point forward. I was a mom at such a young age I had enough on my plate without taking care of animals as well. Growing up we had three kittens, one for each one of us, two of the kittens died about two weeks after we got them and the other lived to a ripe old age and just left home one day some eight years later. I raised both of my children without having a pet, minus the occasional goldfish that usually ended up in the non fish tank. How on earth did I end up with three dogs, at this stage in my life, on top of having no children at home? This is still a mystery to me.

   Let me introduce you to two of our dogs, Gracie and Oscar. I can tell you that while Gracie is our only female Maltepoo, she was born weighing 5/8 of an ounce. The breeder said she was the runt of the litter and would probably not get very big. We paid 800.00 for Gracie, that is about 1280.00 per ounce.  Oscar, on the other hand, was born into a litter about a year and half later weighing 1.5 ounces and was the dog left behind that no one wanted from a litter. He weighed 5 pounds when we brought him home at 4 months old and because of his age we only paid 200.00 for him! He has become the little pup that no one wanted and I love him dearly. Besides, he was a steal compared to the mighty,mouthy one that currently was residing with us.

   Gracie came to live with us on Mother's Day. She was originally a gift for me but this little 2 pound ball of white fur, nestled herself very quickly into my husband's heart. I am the only female in my home, I don't share my husband's affection with anyone else in our home. I want you to know this bitch knows how to push my buttons. Apparently we are both alpha females. It's a constant struggle to prove to her, she is not in charge, nor are my rules open for the popular vote. For instance when I tell her not to get on the couch and she looks at my husband to get his opinion in the matter. It takes a rolled up paper across her backside to get off the couch. But I digress, we do have our moments of mommy and pup-dog time, just not when dad is around. My Oscar, on the other hand, who came to live with us at Christmas time, is a very passive little pup. He is not interested in being in control, he just wants to exist in his little bed, eat when we eat dinner, and get a treat now and then. He is very grateful for just having a home with a family that loves him finally. We have affectionately called him Prince Valium for almost his entire life with us. Recently, whenever this quiet stoutly one lets out an alert bark, Gracie is quick to run over and hump his head into submission. I'm not impressed!


    Oscar doesn't like exercise, he cowers whenever his leash is brought out. I know he looks at it as a form of punishment. I'm not sure if it's because he is too fat to walk or he really is just that lazy. He just refuses to walk on a leash. If you could see him you would understand why. He weighs a whopping twelve pounds now and his legs are only about four inches long from tip to stern. Gracie is a ninja ballerina on her leash, she has a way of walking on her leash and everyone else's as she fights to be in the lead of the pack. He hair blows back and her tongue hangs out as we walk down the quiet country road. Amidst the quietness all you can hear is her panting from constantly trying to stay in the lead. She loves to travel whether it be on foot or in the car, an event that leaves Oscar puking quietly in the back of my Yukon.

    I love my dogs, all of them. As I said in the beginning I haven't quite figured out how in the quiet years of my life alone with my husband we ended with three but there is talk of a fourth. I can tell you even though the price is high, they do live to be 18 years old or so. So in the end we will have gotten our money's worth. But know this, if I have my way, and I usually do, if we do get another dog, we will have another female to balance out our home and perhaps keep Gracie's rear-end in check!

  

Cash verses Credit Contrast Essay #1

   Cash or Credit. It used to be a staple in the customer service conversation at registers. I remember well groaning internally when a customer wanted to pay with Master Charge or Visa. They were the two most common credit cards for Ames Department Store where I worked. The credit card device was heavy and awkward and the tissue paper would turn my fingers black. It was also one of the deciding factors in my life of choosing to never use a credit card. It's so much easier to just pay with cash. I was not going to inconvenience my cashier with a credit card. Obviously technology won out and today within my own business the machines to process a credit card are as easy as my I-phone and a credit card reader device. I most likely have the money in my back account before they leave the store. However I still don't use credit cards for my own personal transactions

As far as privacy is concerned, cash has to be far superior. 

   Let’s just say I’m a twenty dollar bill you have in your pocket. You can pull me out and look at me see that I was hot off the printing press in 2010 in Philadelphia. But you can’t tell my history as a twenty dollar bill. You don’t know what transaction’s I have been a part of, legal or illegal. You don’t know how many ten year olds I made happy as I fell out of a birthday card. You don’t know how many people had to hand me over as part of the rent money. You don’t even know the countless times I have been passed off as unreported income. But, let’s say I am a credit card in your wallet, you have been a member since 1997, with one search on your computer, you have access to multiple statements of my activity for the last twelve months or sometimes longer. You think this information is secure online, encrypted in all your passwords, but who is at American Express that also has access to your account? Sure they may say privacy screens them from seeing your activity in its entirety but commit a crime and go on the run with me, the police will pin point your next move before you do! It’s all semi private until someone WANTS to find you, then you are as plain as the nose on your face.

   Speaking of being responsible, tell me how responsible can you be with a credit card? Are you one of those people that can pay for everything to run your home on in one month and pay the balance off in the next month? Have you never found yourself even slightly tempted to pay the minimum and use the cash for something extravagant? I say nay nay. If you are responsible with a credit card you can be equally responsible with cash and you will eliminate the temptation of not paying off your debt in the thirty day interest free (should you qualify) time frame. Credit is empowering it and power can be dangerous. Impulsive purchasing will put you in chains of bondage you may not escape from. I suppose I should add here being responsible with a credit card also means being able to not lose it. If you lose a credit card today, you can stand to lose a lot of credit before it is shut off by the provider. If you a twenty dollar bill. You’ve just lost a twenty dollar bill. 

   Finally I can’t talk about credit cards vs cash without bringing up everyone’s favorite answer when asked why they need a credit card. The number one answer I hear from people, is convenience of booking  reservations for flights, hotels, or cars. Let me assure you can most certainly book reservations without a credit card. Here’s how, in order to even have a credit card you, at one point in your life, had to have a paying job. It would only make sense then that anyone without a credit card and a paying job has no reason in the world that they can’t have an emergency fund in the bank. Such a fund could even be built with the interest alone saved from not having a credit card.  You can attach a debit card directly to your emergency fund account where your responsible cash lives, for making, paid in full reservations for vacations and out of town amenities such as flights, hotels, and cars. Don’t try and tell me that you have a credit card for ease of use. You have a credit card because you don’t have the cash all at once to back up your large transaction. 

   I'm afraid this credit generation doesn't know what it's like to have a couple of "Benjamins" in their pocket that belongs to just them. They have no idea how to scrape and save to earn what they want. They probably don't respect what they do have for belongings because they acquired it so easily, if they don't take care of it, they can just get another one.  In my life, I have worked I have saved and I have lived without credit. I'm not so sure that my credit rating isn't a zero. I don't know many people like me. I drive a 2006 but it's mine and no one can ever repossess it. I have two homes one I rent out and one I live in. I believe the Lord trusts those that are good stewards with money, with more. I do render unto Caesar, but I will give my cash away to missionaries before give an extra penny to the government in taxes. Cash or credit you say? It will be cash every time with me.

Annotated Source List

"How To Bake Bread." How To Make Homemade Bread At Home. N.p., n.d. Web. 18 Oct. 2012. <http://www.reluctantgourmet.com/bread_making.htm>.
website from a novice chef who gives a lot a tips on technique. He also has great ideas on basic bread recipes. 

Cunningham, Marion, and Fannie Merritt Farmer. The Fannie Farmer Baking Book. New York: Knopf, 1984. Print.
a book for the generations of bakers who need a quick guide to the best used practices used in cooking.


West, Deanna. Personal Interview. 9 Sept. 2012
my very special aunt who is able to reproduce my grandmothers bread. She is a great teacher and needs a better student.

Graf #18 isearch progress report

Honestly, I haven't made that much progress on paper. I have tried two recipes for making bread. One made the birds very happy that day and the other made a great stuffing. I'm just not sure that I am going to be able to make the perfect loaf, but perhaps this isn't what this assignment is suppose to teach me. I know the lead in for an isearch paper was "I always wanted to know", and I filled in "how to make bread". Luck for me, I didn't say I it had to be eatable. I will continue to perfect my craft, whether it is making a successful bread or just writing about it.

Contrast Essay Draft

Cash or Credit. It used to be a staple in the customer service conversation at registers. I remember well groaning internally when a customer wanted to pay with Master Charge or Visa. They were the two most common credit cards for Ames Department Store where I worked. The credit card device was heavy and awkward and the tissue paper would turn my fingers black. It was also one of the deciding factors in my life of choosing to never use a credit card. It's so much easier to just pay with cash. I was not going to inconvenience my cashier with a credit card.Obviously technology won out and today within my own business the machines to process a credit card are as easy as my I-phone and a credit card reader device. I most likely have the money in my back account before they leave the store. However I still don't use credit cards for my own personal transactions.

Cash has it's advantages. You can spend the amount you have and when it's gone it's gone. Until recently I wasn't able to wash my car or use a vending machine unless I had cash. I have strict policy never to take more the 120.00 to the grocery store with me. This way I have to make wise decisions with our food budget for the week. If I am getting gas, I usually have to prepay inside and never go over by a penny. Truly that is a gas credit users can't play and win, classic over squeeze always happens. Only after grocery shopping is done and if there is money left over do we eat out. You can imagine we don't eat out alot in one week but we do save the left over grocery money to eat out periodically. I like cash because it is tangible you either have it or you don't. Another fascinating feature of cash, if I lose it  I only stand to lose the amount I have lost, not the amount I have available. A blonde downside to cash is I don't have to lose it, I can shred it. I received two very crisp one hundred dollar bills one year for my birthday. I was busy opening the mail and not paying attention to the shred pile and the keep pile. I shredded my birthday money and could not get a "do over" out of my dad. Everyone may take cash but in that instances a check would have been so much easier! I enjoy the freedom of not everyone knowing how much cash we have at any one time.I feel that we are in control of our finances and not some big bank.

 Credit is empowering it and power can be dangerous. My husband had a life before me and it was steeped in credit. He was the totally opposite of what we are now. He never had cash. He tells me credit let him buy things that he had no business buying. If he didn't have enough credit he called for an extension. Credit allowed him the freedom to purchase big ticket items that he couldn't afford. At one time he had three trucks and just as many payments! I laugh at that because he could only drive one at a time. When I asked him what he was doing with three trucks at once he remarked, "The bank said yes". Impulsive purchasing is a definite downside of credit. It controlled him he was not in control of his credit. He would take extravagant vacations, purchase jewelry for his mom, and made these mindless decisions that he could buy affections for those he loved the most by charging it.  It took us a very long time to pay off all his debit when we married. You better believe privacy was non-existent with creditors, they kept an eye on him like a hawk. I can't say he fought me too hard when we met about giving up the credit. The toughest part was learning that we could walk out of a store without buying anything. It all made sense to him when I showed him how to live off the grid as far as credit is concerned.

I'm afraid this credit generation doesn't know what it's like to have a couple of "Benjamins" in their pocket that belong to just them. They have no idea how to scrape and save to earn what they want. They probably don't respect what they do have for belongings because they acquired it so easily, if they don't take care of it, they can just get another one.  In my life, I have worked I have saved and I have lived with out credit. I'm not so sure that my credit rating isn't a zero. I don't know many people like me. I drive a 2006 but it's mine and no one can ever repossess it. I have a two homes one I rent out and one I live in. I believe the Lord trusts those that are good stewards with money, with more. I do render unto Caesar, but I will give my cash away to missionaries before give an extra penny to the government in taxes. Cash or credit you say? It will be cash every time with me.

Classification Essay My LIfe Without Veg-Canned, Frozen, or Fresh

I don't like vegetables, it is my least favorite food category. I blame my dislike for veg on my parents who made me eat them when I was younger. They would stack them on top of each other, boil them together, mash them, and serve them up like some prize winner dessert. I would always save them for last and never found a vegetable that I couldn't live without. As a matter of fact, the Sunday dinner staples was boiled dinner, all the vegetables in the pot with a corned beef. When it was served everything tasted like cabbage. Cabbage speaks to my gag reflexs and knows how to make it sing.

As I was bringing up my children, I knew my distaste for vegetables should remain my own. I wanted my children to form their own opinions of vegetables. So to not influence them, I became "allergic" to vegetables. I didn't even know how to cook or season them properly to make them taste appetizing. I do remember we didn't have a lot of money and the cheapest way to buy vegetables were in a can. As we became more established we would buy frozen veg, and finally right before they left home we discovered farm stands were a wonderful way to get fresh vegetables and my children seemed to love them!

Can vegetables have a lot of water and I remember I would dump it out and add my own. This was my attempt and making them healthier for my children. Surely the water in the can was processed with salt and by products that I wouldn't want them eating. I would rinse them off and place them in a small pan and heat with water. My children would eat them but I never got rave reviews. As long as they were eating them I thought I had it figured out!

Along about the time that the preteen years were hitting, my children started voicing their opinions about their meals in a pre-adult manner. They gently let me know that can vegetables tasted like the can.  We discovered that frozen vegetables came in more varieties and could be steamed rather than boiled and you didn't have to use the entire bag once it was opened. Money saving option, I'll take it. My daughter especially liked broccoli, she had it at a friends house. It wasn't available in a can. One of her favorite meals was rice with broccoli and cheese over it. Frozen vegetables became the new hit in our home. New varieties of vegetables were tried by both of them and one remark was "they are almost like Grampie made".

My dad had seven gardens or more when I was growing up. You can imagine when he found out that we were eating frozen vegetables instead of buying fresh he wasn't long in pointing out that fresh produce was much healthier than anything I could buy in a groceries freezer department. I explained I just didn't have an interest in fresh, they took a long time to cook and the preparation time was too much for my thirty minute or less dinner schedule. My children were old enough now to cook themselves and wanted to try Grampie's garden vegetables instead of frozen. Fresh produce became the new vegetable love in our home. My children would go to the grocery store and peruse the vegetable department like it was a NIKE store. They picked them up, they squeezed them, smelled them, and they bought them. They learned to bake zucchini, stuff eggplant, and whip squash, they made sweet potato pie, and corn chowder.

I lost 65 pounds and not from eating vegetables either but because I wasn't doing the cooking and therefore not eating as much. Both of my children are very good cooks to this day! As for my four granddaughters, they wonder why at Thanksgiving that Gam only eats turkey with a roll and some gravy, I find I have started telling them as well, "Oh, Gam is allergic to vegetables, but you eat up they're good for you!"

Intro #1 Classification Essay My LIfe Without Veg-Canned, Frozen, or Fresh

I don't like vegetables, it is my least favorite food category. I blame my dislike for veg on my parents who made me eat them when I was younger. They would stack them on top of each other, boil them together, mash them, and serve them up like some prize winner dessert. I would always save them for last and never found a vegetable that I couldn't live without. As a matter of fact, the Sunday dinner staples was boiled dinner, all the vegetables in the pot with a corned beef. When it was served everything tasted like cabbage. Cabbage speaks to my gag reflex and knows how to make it sing.

Outro Classification Essay My LIfe Without Veg-Canned, Frozen, or Fresh

My dad had seven gardens or more when I was growing up. You can imagine when he found out that we were eating frozen vegetables instead of buying fresh he wasn't long in pointing out that fresh produce was much healthier than anything I could buy in a groceries freezer department. I explained I just didn't have an interest in fresh, they took a long time to cook and the preparation time was too much for my thirty minute or less dinner schedule. My children were old enough now to cook themselves and wanted to try Grampie's garden vegetables instead of frozen. Fresh produce became the new vegetable love in our home. My children would go to the grocery store and peruse the vegetable department like it was a NIKE store. They picked them up, they squeezed them, smelled them, and they bought them. They learned to bake zucchini, stuff eggplant, and whip squash, they made sweet potato pie, and corn chowder.

Intro #2 Classification Essay My LIfe Without Veg-Canned, Frozen, or Fresh

As I was bringing up my children, I knew my distaste for vegetables should remain my own. I wanted my children to form their own opinions of vegetables. So to not influence them, I became "allergic" to vegetables. I didn't even know how to cook or season them properly to make them taste appetizing. I do remember we didn't have a lot of money and the cheapest way to buy vegetables were in a can. As we became more established we would buy frozen veg, and finally right before they left home we discovered farm stands were a wonderful way to get fresh vegetables and my children seemed to love them!

Graf# 17 Reaction to comments on my cause essay

"As I said, this needed to be written. You are dealing with cause and effect all right, but in the unconsciously competent way that a mature writer does, not in the mechanical and arbitrary way of the student writer.

So, I'm happy to take this as your cause essay, finished and done. You will have ten more chances to grapple with the formula!"  -John Goldfine

I know this has to be a paragraph, and I may take a zero on this one. But my reaction can be summed up in one word. Humbled. Am I willing to stop there? Oh that I could! It would be a perfect writing in my mind. A one worded response from the person who lives and speaks the short version to everything. However, this assignment will be read by the person in charge of my grade. I should throw a few more sentences in here to make it official. Even though I did look up the structure of a paragraph to see if it could be two-three sentences. My reaction hasn't changed, but desire to conform, perhaps has changed, in the end, I believe I still could have just stayed with writing, as I am, humbled. 

Graf #16 Reaction to "Snakes and snails and puppy dog tails" classification essay

I'm going to go with our knowledgeable instructor on this one, I am not going to write my classification essay on people, especially those I have been married to. I don't believe the author of "Snips, snails, and puppy dog tails" eluded to being married to these men, but she certainly could relate. I could very easily, after all I have been married three times. Three seems to be the magic number in this assignment. However, this is a public blog and as mother always said, "When there is nothing good to say, silence is a good sentence to speak." As for me, I think this is going to be an awesome essay to write! I'm very excited to find three objects to classify. I live in a natural state of "OCDedness" my children have shared with me I have CDO instead of OCD because it is alphabetized and that is way it should be. I love putting things into categories. With that being said, I'm off to classify something. Peace, out!

Gra#15 Meta Graf on Cause Essay

My essay was physically written over a period of three days, sitting at my computer, hoping I was understanding the assignment correctly.  However, mentally it was written over the course of the first six years of my son's life in the military, specifically how we dealt with him leaving home for the first time for any length of time. I can tell you, I wrote, I read, I cried, I cried, I cried, I shared with my husband, he read, he cried, he suggested it may be too deep for what my professor was looking for, and then I posted it. My professor read my essay in the early stages and said it was a paper that "had to be written". I'm assuming he meant I had a need to write it. He would have been correct. I can't tell you that some huge burden of guilt for suggesting my son enter the US Navy has been lifted from my shoulders, but I can share with you that writing it that gave me a confidence boost in my writing skills. I found out I do have an ability to express myself in words, a quality I didn't think I possessed. I can also share with you that my son is still in the U.S. Navy, on home soil, proudly serving. My eyes burn with tears of pride every time I think about him.

Isearch research plan Graf #14

Research plan, oh man, now it's really starting to sound like work. I am going to consult the bread makers in my mother's family and my dad's family. I believe they will be able to give me the "why" answers I am looking for because I will have them at my beck and call to explain to me what I am really looking for when I ask the same question five times instead of wanting a generic "google" answer. Straightaway I foresee a conflict with a couple of my aunt's and the methods to the bread making skills. This is my project and ultimately no one knows about my blog in my family so I can chose whatever I want the best answer without hurting anyone's ego. I am going to consult the generations of cookbooks that have been passed along to me. I do not have the original recipe book from my gram, but one year, for Christmas, a collection of her finest secret recipes were collaborated into one cookbook that was given to anyone that wanted a copy in our family. I most definitely am going to have to experiment with different scenarios, weather conditions, areas of different temperature within my environment, types of pans and even types of flour, but I will not compromise on the recipe. I will be using my gram's recipe. It may just be that I need to buy a old kitchen wood cook-stove to cook the bread in, that is after all what she used. I am going to use any problems that pop up as learning tools. I probably wont research too much online it is hard for me to put other people's ideas into my own words and I wouldn't want to accidentally plagiarize anything. I may search the big G (that's Google not Big G's Deli, huge bread by the way!) for tips on yeast and flour but for the most part I'm going back to the basics on this one. The only time line I see myself following is to have my paper complete before the deadline. I am finding out I don't like to write on demand according to formula. I feel it puts undue stress on me to include the required "everything" and blocks creativity, which allows my writing to shine.

What I Know about making bread

How do you make bread?

I know you must first start with ingredients: flour, sugar, salt, yeast, water and an oil of some type. You can mix the ingredients by hand, but a stand alone mixer is easier.

At some point you must have the ability to get your hands gooey yet flour them quickly so the batter doesn't stick to your hands. This is called kneading.

You have to have patience, bread though a beautiful art form, takes time to create. You will have to allow it time to rise in the bowl and then divide equally into pans for uniformity and let it rise again in a warm environment to almost double in size. Baking at the correct temperature for the right amount of time, is very important. Being the taste tester is the greatest gift of the entire project.

What sort of tips could I be taking for granted? 

I think there is a mystery to yeast mix time and the temp of the water it sets in prior to joining it's friends in the bread bowl, a tad more than baby's bath water just isn't accurate.

The temperature of the room to be when it says rise at room temperature also needs to be determined.

What, if any, are the secrets of yeast?
A little will do alot. As any member of the mold/fungus family would. Yeast has Biblical connotations as well, in the old testament it is compared to sin, just a little will affect the entire environment. So it must be a powerful ingredient to have in a bread recipe. Salt will inhibit yeast growth, never let it come in direct contact with the yeast.

What type of flour do you use? 
Just as important to yeast is flour. Cake flour is for making cakes and bread flour is used for making bread yet my gram always used all purpose flour. I'm not sure why. I will have to experiment to find out why.

Does the flour have be level or just adequately filled in the measure cup?
I'm not sure I know the answer to this but I will test and find out. 

Where is the best place for bread to rise?
Atop the stove, in the stove, on the cupboard beside the stove? The stove is a great place because as it preheats it gives off heat. So I would guess somewhere near the stove. I will experiment to see if the kitchen island is a good space as well, it is away from the stove.

Does the weather factor into making bread?
Weather does play a role in bread making, a humid day your dough will be stickier, during winter months if you flour has been opened for a while you may have to add a little more water. Gravity does work so even during times when the temp is right on the money dough can take time to rise.

Is it better to have the bread be kneaded by hand?
I have heard of no knead bread recipes but I have not researched them quite yet.

How does the amount of flour on the kneading board factor into the overall amount of flour required in the recipe? The flour on the kneading board/bread board should not be from the recipe's amount of flour desired for making bread. Just dust the bread board with flour too much flour and the crust will be thick. Too little and the dough will be sticky.

Is there a preference, wooden or plastic cutting board? It would appear the jury is still out on this one. In my family it has always been a piece of 1" plywood cut to about 24"x30" and it lives on the floor between the refrigerator and the cupboard closest to the refrigerator. The only thing to ever touch this board is bread dough, and the occasion molasses cookie dough. I will probably stick with what I know to work.

Does bread have to cool completely before cutting?
In my research I am finding this totally depends on the type of bread you make. Of course your ability to be patient also counts

Does cutting the end off bread stop it from cooking? No evidence to support this gram-myth. I will continue to research.

Do the costs of making bread outweigh purchasing bread from a bakery?
No, and furthermore the health risks of industrial breads in the supermarkets could end up costing you a lot more. Your time on the other hand could be deemed priceless. Sense and sensibility will win every time and you will find it cheaper to make your own bread. 

Do I think I am a failure if I cannot succeed in making bread? Not at all, quite the contrary, I would say I have outwitted those that have tried to teach me and my reward, they make it for me.