Graf #10

My wife looks up from her coffee and announces to me that she hears a grinding noise when she pushes the brakes in her car. I go out and look and sure enough I see the rotors are all gouged and she has obviously ignored the squeaking the brakes were making for quite some time. Now I will be the first to admit that I am not a mechanic. I know what most of the parts are but not how to replace them. This time it was a little different. Money was tight and after calling a couple of garages we were resigned to the fact this was going to cost us four or five hundred dollars. That's when I came to me. I will learn how to do brakes. I went to the local automotive store and purchased a set of rotors, a set of brake pads, and a Chilton's manual for her car model. It was easy to get the components apart but when it came to getting them back together the book left some gaps. I placed a phone call to a friend who is a mechanic and he was able to talk me through some of the voids. I got the job done and it took three or four times longer that if we had taken it to a garage but it cost less that a hundred bucks. Now I do the brakes on both our cars.

Cause essay in place of Process

I am a fireman. It is really all I have ever done and all I have ever wanted to do. This is how I would define myself if I had too. The fire service has been what my life has revolved around for the past 23 years. It is the best job in the world and I thank God everyday I am able to do it. I look back now and try to figure how I got here and what made the difference in my life to get me here. The first inclination that I can remember being interested in joining my hometown fire department was a fire near my house in 1987. That fire sparked something in me. Also, through out my life I have had some great friends, role models and mentors who were able to guide me through the minefield of youth and into a career. Because of this I have come to realize that this is the job for me and the type of person I am. This single incident, great friends and mentors, and the way my brain is wired all lead me to where I am today.

It was a cool night in the fall of 1987. The sun had set, it was dark but still early in the evening. As I recall it was around seven or eight at night. I was at home and heard the fire horn blowing in the distance letting the town know there was a fire. It was not uncommon to hear the fire horn in those days and I dismissed it after a couple of seconds. Shortly after that I could hear sirens coming down Rt. 1 in my direction, again not really a big deal because the fire trucks often went by on their way to Rockland. I looked out the window as they were going by and noticed they were stopping at a house nearby. Now it was getting exciting and I put on shoes and a coat and went over to see what was happening. When I got nearer I could see there was a small fire on the second floor and the firefighters were already putting it out. There was smoke and flashing lights and commotion and it got my adrenaline flowing. A smoldering mattress was thrown out the window on the second floor on top of some other smoking debris and was being wet down by some firefighters outside and that was pretty much it. It was really exciting and interesting and something sparked my interest so to speak.

As that fire was wrapping up I saw a friend of mine who was on the fire department and he came over to talk told me I should join. The department had what was called a Junior program and you could join when you were 16 years old. I joined the Thomaston Volunteer Fire Department in November 1987, a month after my 16 birthday, and the Rockland Fire department call division in 1992. At that time there were several other guys on both departments the same age as me, and over the years there was great competition between all us. These guys were tried and true friends and the competition was the best fireman. Always competing for bragging rights of being the first to the station, the first to get geared up and on the truck, the first to get the hose and so on. I believe that this competition and camaraderie is what drove most of us to pursue careers in the Public Safety and shaped our future. Most of them stayed in the mid-coast area, but I applied and was hired to the Bangor Fire department in the fall of 1996.

Along with these friends were many adults that saw in us the potential for the next generation of firefighters and taught us what we would need to do in order to move on to career departments. They were mentors and not only taught us about fighting fire but how to stay out of trouble both in a fire and in life. They taught us things that were not in the training books and classes but what they had learned in their tenure fighting fires, and prodded us to do better and work hard. Not only did these mentors teach me about the technical aspects of firefighting, they taught me about being a man, how to treat others, respect, compassion and the “Brotherhood” in the fire service.

I have come to realize over the years that I am good at being a fireman. Like I said before, it is the way I am wired. It fits my personality perfectly. The knowledge base for a firefighter is pretty simple, in that I have to know a little about a lot of things. I have to have a working knowledge of building construction, plumbing, electrical, heavy equipment operation, hydraulics, human anatomy, pharmacology, psychology, ropes and rigging, public relations, thermal dynamics, risk analysis, legal aspects, and any other thing that you can think of. Sounds simple right? It is not just putting water on fire, and I like that. I have to see bad things, sometimes really bad things. That is part of the job. The way I look at this is that I don't mind seeing some of the things that I do, and if someone has to do this it may as well be me.

I am by nature a compassionate person and always assume the best in people. I like to take care of people and help them in any way I can. This is not just at work, I stop to help people I see broken down on the side of the road and I expect nothing in return. My neighbors know that if they need help with anything, moving something heavy, help building something, or tearing something down, or just someone to watch the kids, they call me. Someone once said “That's the funny thing about fireman...24 hours a day they are always fireman.” I truly believe this, we always want to help no matter what or who, unconditionally. It takes a certain type of person to do this and I feel that it is a calling. I understand the trust people put in me being a fireman. Think about it for a minute, a total stranger will run up to me and thrust the most important things in the world to them into my hands without hesitation. Someone they have never met. A mother will hand me her only child to help them, someone she has never even seen before, she knows absolutely nothing about me, not even my name, only that I am a fireman and that I can help. One of the greatest things in the world to me is the look of relief on peoples faces when I walk in the door. I cherish the trust that the public puts in me and the responsibility that goes along with it.

I am lucky in that I have known what I wanted to for work since I was a teenager. Many people never find out what whey want to do in life and move from job to job or just settle on a job they are not happy at. My job defines me, and I define it. It is what I eat, sleep, and breath. It consumes most of my waking thoughts. A couple of interesting incidents, and some great people all made a mark on the career path I took. This combined with my personality has lead me to where I am now. I feel it is where I am supposed to be in life and I could not imagine doing anything else. The initial attraction of the excitement and adrenaline has changed over the years. I still love the rush of going into a fire, but now it seems to be more for the satisfaction of knowing I made a difference in someones life. I know with out a doubt have the best job in the world and not a lot of folks can say that.

Contrast essay alternate ending

My grandfathers lived in the same town, about a mile from each other. Both were in WWII veterans, were decorated, and were war hero’s. I don't remember ever seeing them together or them talking about the other even though they knew each other. One was outgoing, upbeat, physically active and had a large family. The other was a home body and could often be found in his chair in front of the TV. Both men were loving and cared about there families. But how they carried themselves in daily life were quite opposite.

My grandfathers were great men in my eyes. I have always regretted not knowing them better, but that is a sad consequence of me growing up in Maine and them living in Massachusetts. My father's, father was Ralph, and my mother's, father was Art. Both men grew up in the area around Northborough, Mass. through the depression. As I got older I was very curious about their childhoods and would press them for stories. Art's recollections were very different than Ralph's. Grampa Ralph would say that it was a horrible time to be a kid, that times were tough and he can always remembered being hungry, and the house always being cold. He had to move in with relatives and there were six children sharing the same bedroom. Ralph recalled his father telling the older children at dinner one night, that they were going to have to stop going to school for a while and work on a nearby farm in exchange for food for the family. Art's stories were so different in their tone I still wonder if he may have embellish a bit to make his stories sound more adventurous than they really were. He would say that it was an exciting time. Talk about being self-reliant and resourceful. About having pride in making due with what you had. He would say how fun it was to be out hunting for rabbit or squirrel in the woods behind his house, by himself, when he was ten or eleven years old.

Probably the largest contrast between the two was their experiences in WWII. Ralph was finely accepted into the Air Corp after being rejected by the other branches for having “Flat Feet”. He was shot down over France and spent two years in a P.O.W. camp. I believe this would define the rest of Ralph's life. It was a very difficult time and he had great difficulty adjusting when he returned home. He spoke about it freely, and with great detail, as I remember. He would sit my brother and I down and tell us all about being shot down, getting wounded, and being a prisoner. But looking back I can tell that this troubled him greatly. Today we talk about P.T.S.D. and the like, and all the ways that we can help our vets who have been through such horrible experiences. Back then there was nothing to help him cope with this and he had difficulty with reliving those experiences. How he tried to cope with his war experiences was with alcohol. He drank and smoked heavily and as he got older, alienated much of the family because of his drinking. When we would visit he would often start drinking around noon and by the late afternoon he would be swearing at us kids in German, and yelling amazingly bigoted statements over the fence at the neighbors. If he was not my Grandfather I would have said he was a rotten, bitter, old man. Which, in fact, he was.

Art on the other hand never spoke of the War. He was the classic “Greatest Generation”. He was always upbeat and positive. I never remember him yelling or even being cross about anything. My Mother tells that when she and her brothers would ask what he did in the War, he would just say that he did nothing special and that he build bridges. He would down play his role in the War and say he just did his job like everyone else over there. A few years before his death my Grandmother convinced him to write about his experiences so that his children would know what he had done. He was a Combat Engineer and was decorated for saving ten men when their boat sank during river crossing. Art and another man jumped into their boat, which was made for 5 men, and were able to get to the men before they drowned. I asked him about this once and why he went out after those men in a much smaller boat and risked them swamping his boat, he said “because we were closest and somebody had to do something.” The company the Art lead, later received a Presidential Commendation for building the first bridge over the Rhine River and thus pushing the Nazi's back into Germany. He made history and would only acknowledge that he “did his job, like every other man over there”. Art had a big family and as my mother would say, he worked very hard but always made time for his family. This is what defined his life.

Both these men grew up in the same small town, went to the same schools, raised there families very near each other, with many the same values and beliefs. Similar enviornment.  Both men were very similar in that they were caring men, who loved there families and worked very hard to provide for them. But they were polar opposites in there everyday life. I often wonder how my parents came together when they came from such different households. In Ralph's house you were ofter called by a bigoted, derogatory nickname. He would refer to my mother as “The Frog” when she and my dad were dating. He even called his wife “The Dumb Swede”, and those were the tame ones. Ralph was a hard drinking, chain smoking, bitter, sour old man that my brother and I feared. He blamed the fact that he was mean, and alienated his kids and neighbors on his experiences in the War. He loved his family, I have no doubt of that, but he never showed it. In Art's house his kids were taught to always looking for the positive, smile, and you were always getting hugged their. He never blamed anyone else for the things that he did wrong, he owned up to them and said he was sorry. You were encouraged by Art and praised when you did something good. It was truly a positive environment, in contrast to the extremely negative one at Ralph's. Is it related to enviornment or just personalities?  I don't know.  With such different upbringings I don't see how my parents stayed together, maybe it is that opposites do attract.

I search 'what'

What do I know? I know that I have four chickens. I know that they are Rhode Island Reds. We were told this when we got the chicks but has been confirmed by seeing pictures in one of my daughters childrens books about farm animals. They live in a coop that I built that is 4' by 10'. It has a 4' by 4' house area that has laying boxes and roosts built in and is elevated 20 inches off the ground. The rest of the coop is caged in with wire and the birds roam around it. It has access to the house area from a small door on the outside that has access to the laying boxes and a large door that makes up the caged in side of the house. I built in a window on either side of the house area with shutters to keep the weather out. There is a small opening for the birds to access the house area via a ramp going from ground level.

We have purchased a feeder and a waterer. These seem to work well and the birds will go through about 5 gallons of water in about 10 days. Some of this I believe is due to spillage because the waterer is suspended from the roof of the coop by cord to keep it off the ground. The water becomes quite dirty after a few days and I believe this is from the birds scratching dirt into it. About every other filling of the water I have started adding one teaspoon of bleach to the 5 gallons of water in order to prevent algae growth. This appears to work well because initially there was some green growth on the inside of the waterer and that has gone away. Initially, I had the feeder inside the house, suspended by cord. This had to be moved several times because the birds would get on the roost above the feeder and defaecate into the top of the feeder. I have recently moved the feeder outside the house area and I curious if this will make a difference in there feeding. They eat approximately four pounds of feed in a week. We initially used a chick food that had an antibiotic in it but have moved over to a pellet feed that is supposed to be formulated for mature, laying birds. This information was provided to us by the hardware store where we bought the feed. We also give them “scratch” which appears to be cracked corn, and we were told this will keep them from pecking each other.

What else do know? They make a lot of poop and apparently don't mind eating each others poop. I have put wood shavings in the house area of the coop and that seems to need to be cleaned every 2-3 weeks. I was told that I should paint the inside of the coop with Diatomaceous Earth mixed with water (old fashion White Wash) as well as sprinkle the shavings with the powered Diatomaceous Earth. This will keep the wood from rotting, keep bugs away and keep the smell down. We have been unable to purchase Diatomaceous Earth because of a nation wide shortage supposedly.

We let them out to roam the yard when we are outside with them and they appear to like this. They get excited when we come to the door of the coop and line up to try and get out. They will eat most anything. I have given them bugs and worms and they like them very much. I was told not to give them slugs because they can swell in their craw and choke them. They like the vegetables that have gone by from the garden but won't take anything off a plant just what has fallen on the ground. They don't make a lot of noise and don't mind human contact because they will readily allow us to pick them up without running off. They are enjoyable to watch.

We are getting on average 2 eggs in a 24 hour period. My seven year old daughters chore is to check for eggs when she gets home from school, and she loves this. Some days we only get one egg but on several occasions we have had four eggs. This is good for our family size and we have not bought eggs for a couple of months. I am confused by this.

I know that I do not know how many hens or how many roosters I have. This kind of bothers me. Of the four, two are lighter colored with a lighter brown and white feathers, and two are colored with a darker brown on the head and less white on the body feathers. Two have similar coloring and two have another.  We were told by friends who raise chickens that we wouldn't know if we had any roosters until we heard “cock-a-doodle-dew”. We have not heard any type of crowing from any of them. They were hatched in April we were told they should be mature in September or October. We started getting eggs in mid August so at least one hen was early. But common sense would tell me that because of the difference in coloring and the small egg count that I have at least one rooster. The plan is this when we find out if we have a rooster, and when the hens stop laying, they will get separated, fattened up for a couple weeks and then butchered. This may be hard because they have become more like pets than food, even though I have tried to prepare my kids for this inevitability.

Rewrite classification essay

I knew I had made the wrong decision within about a half an hour. BANG...SPLASH... the wave sweeps over the boat and now there is no part of me that is dry. The boat is healed over so much I have one foot on the cockpit wall to be able to stand. I have to much sail on her. In the harbor I had made a decision that could make this a miserable day. I had chosen to keep more sail on her as opposed to shortening sail, called “reefing”, in hopes to gain speed and arrive at our destination sooner. One of the things I like most about sailing is making the boat work at maximum efficiency. This is a hard thing to do, and I had passed maximum efficiency and had gone beyond. Now I was cold and wet and not having fun. How a sailboat operates and rides can be broken up into three categories. Too much sail, not enough sail, and just right. This determines how the boat will ride and how fast or slow you go. But most importantly it determines wither it is a calm, comfortable, safe ride, or a wet, bumpy, white knuckled, unsafe ride. The goal is to choose the right combination of sail for the conditions. The balance between sail, wind and waves is like asking a beautiful women to dance for the first time. It is a delicate thing to do, can be hard to achieve, and if you do not learn how she likes to dance, you won't be easy to dance with her again.

Having too much sail up on a sailboat can be dangerous and is always uncomfortable. The worst case point of sail is when you have to travel up wind. This is called “beating to weather” and the reason it is called “beating” is because it beats you and the boat up. Because a sailboat cannot travel directly into the wind it must travel back and forth, zig-zagging, up wind and into the waves to gain ground. Doing this requires the sails to be positioned pulled in tight to the center line of the boat. By doing this it makes the boat lean or “heal” over more. If you have to much sail on the boat will heal over so much that it is hard to stand and is very uncomfortable. Also, because you are going into the waves, the sea has a tendency to smash into and brake over the boat. This makes the ride very wet, and after having the salt water sting and chill your body for a couple hours, it can get a little old. Another draw-back to this point of sail with too much sail is that it is very hard on the boat. The forces placed on the boat with the sails and crashing into the seas can stress equipment and cause it to brake, and that is never a good thing. The greatest risk with having too much sail is that the boat may be “knocked down” this is when the boat is forced on it's side or “beam ends” at ninety degrees or more. If this happen the boat can fill with water and go down or break the mast. This is the worst case scenario.

Having not enough sail can also make the boat very uncomfortable as well. This can be a tough one to fix. If you have too much sail you can usually reef the boat when it becomes uncomfortable. When there is not enough sail it can be hard to add sail once you are under way. It is a common mistake to shorten sail too much. With big wind and sea it is easy to take in too much sail. The problem with this, with either big wind or light breezes is, it that it is hard to get anywhere. The boat has to move, and the sails make it move. If there is too little sail you run the risk of staying out longer in bad weather and subjecting yourself to greater danger. With the lack of speed and progress under too little sail the weather may deteriorate and you can place yourself in a worse situation. If the wind is moderate or light, and you don't have enough sail, the problem is that you miss out on making the boat work efficiently and you just don't get anywhere. One of the greatest risks of having not enough sail is a situation with big seas and little sail up. Doing this causes the boat to get pushed up over waves and drop off the back of them. This is caused by a lack of speed and momentum. If you keep your speed and momentum the boat will carry through the wave an not loose much speed. This is dangerous because it causes the boat to surge, the waves suddenly slowing the boat for a moment. This surging can cause damage to the boat by suddenly and repeatedly shock loading components and causing them to break. Also the surging can cause people to fall and is very uncomfortable because you are always fighting to keep you balance.

Having just the right amount of sail can be one of the most wonderful experiences you can witness. There is where knowledge and experience come into play. Understand what your boat will do, in different conditions is an art form all in itself. Speed and stability. This is where I wanted to be. Perfect balance of wind and waves is the goal I was reaching for. No one can see the future and I had gambled that conditions would not change. I was wrong, this happens often and is the constant game every sailor plays. Trying to see the future and predict what the conditions will do. To reach that balance I would have to shorten sail. With just the right amount of sail the boat will move the water in perfect combination of beauty and science. Keeping the boat safe an comfortable is one thing. But to combine that with speed is something all in itself. Most sailboats have more than one sail and by balancing these sails you can make the boat act differently in different conditions. Adding or taking sail from the front or back of the boat can achieve different results.

To classify these conditions is somewhat subjective. Unsafe or uncomfortable can mean different things to different people. As a rule of thumb though, to much sail can make the boat heal excessively and causes folks to walk on the walls to get around. Not much fun. Too little sail would make the ride very bumpy, and often makes sailors fall and bump their heads, even without their grog. That is certainly not fun. To have the just the right amount of sail is a symphony. Many components working in unison to achieve something beautiful and amazing. Like a poorly played symphony, a poorly operated sailboat can cause people to leave, never want to come back, and not to speak nicely of the person who brought them there.

Contrast essay

My grandfathers lived in the same town, about a mile from each other. Both were in WWII veterans, were decorated, and were war hero’s. I don't remember ever seeing them together or them talking about the other even though they knew each other. One was outgoing, upbeat, physically active and had a large family. The other was a home body and could often be found in his chair in front of the TV. Both men were loving and cared about there families. But how they carried themselves in daily life were quite opposite.

My grandfathers were great men in my eyes. I have always regretted not knowing them better, but that is a sad consequence of me growing up in Maine and them living in Massachusetts. My father's, father was Ralph, and my mother's, father was Art. Both men grew up in the area around Northborough, Mass. through the depression. As I got older I was very curious about their childhoods and would press them for stories. Art's recollections were very different than Ralph's. Grampa Ralph would say that it was a horrible time to be a kid, that times were tough and he can always remembered being hungry, and the house always being cold. He had to move in with relatives and there were six children sharing the same bedroom. Ralph recalled his father telling the older children at dinner one night, that they were going to have to stop going to school for a while and work on a nearby farm in exchange for food for the family. Art's stories were so different in their tone I still wonder if he may have embellish a bit to make his stories sound more adventurous than they really were. He would say that it was an exciting time. Talk about being self-reliant and resourceful. About having pride in making due with what you had. He would say how fun it was to be out hunting for rabbit or squirrel in the woods behind his house, by himself, when he was ten or eleven years old.

Probably the largest contrast between the two was their experiences in WWII. Ralph was finely accepted into the Air Corp after being rejected by the other branches for having “Flat Feet”. He was shot down over France and spent two years in a P.O.W. camp. I believe this would define the rest of Ralph's life. It was a very difficult time and he had great difficulty adjusting when he returned home. He spoke about it freely, and with great detail, as I remember. He would sit my brother and I down and tell us all about being shot down, getting wounded, and being a prisoner. But looking back I can tell that this troubled him greatly. Today we talk about P.T.S.D. and the like, and all the ways that we can help our vets who have been through such horrible experiences. Back then there was nothing to help him cope with this and he had difficulty with reliving those experiences. How he tried to cope with his war experiences was with alcohol. He drank and smoked heavily and as he got older, alienated much of the family because of his drinking. When we would visit he would often start drinking around noon and by the late afternoon he would be swearing at us kids in German, and yelling amazingly bigoted statements over the fence at the neighbors. If he was not my Grandfather I would have said he was a rotten, bitter, old man. Which, in fact, he was.

Art on the other hand never spoke of the War. He was the classic “Greatest Generation”. He was always upbeat and positive. I never remember him yelling or even being cross about anything. My Mother tells that when she and her brothers would ask what he did in the War, he would just say that he did nothing special and that he build bridges. He would down play his role in the War and say he just did his job like everyone else over there. A few years before his death my Grandmother convinced him to write about his experiences so that his children would know what he had done. He was a Combat Engineer and was decorated for saving ten men when their boat sank during river crossing. Art and another man jumped into their boat, which was made for five men, and were able to get to the men before they drowned. I asked him about this once and why he went out after those men in a much smaller boat and risked them swamping his boat, he said “because we were closest and somebody had to do something.” The company the Art lead, later received a Presidential Commendation for building the first bridge over the Rhine River and thus pushing the Nazi's back into Germany. He made history and would only acknowledge that he “did his job, like every other man over there”. Art had a big family and as my mother would say, he worked very hard but always made time for his family. This is what defined his life.

Both these men grew up in the same small town, went to the same schools, raised there families very near each other, with many the same values and beliefs. Both men were very similar in that they were caring men, who loved there families and worked very hard to provide for them. But they were polar opposites in there everyday life. Art would always looking for the positive, smiling, and giving out hugs to the whole family. Ralph, always negative and blaming everyone else for his troubles. Either way they were my grandfathers and I miss them deeply. Two men who were so opposite but came from the same place.

rewrite contrast Intro #2

When I remember visiting my grandfathers when I was a child, it seemed like each was from a different world. Even though they lived about a mile apart, in the same town I cannot ever remember seeing them together at the same place. They were two men that were very similar in many ways, shared many of the same experiences in life, but were totally different in how they carried themselves in daily life. One upbeat and positive, the other negative and coarse. Both of my grandfathers have long since passed but the memories from my childhood are still as clear as if they were yesterday and is amazing how different these men were.

I-search 'why'

I have four chickens living in my backyard. I know virtually nothing about raising chickens. It started as a causal conversation with my wife late last winter. The idea was to try something new and it would be an easy way to have some insect control for the garden and yard. We would have fertilizer for gardening and for the worst case scenario we would eat them. Before I knew it she had been to a local farm and purchased four chicks for $12. She brought them home in a shoe box and had stopped at the hardware store on her way. She asked a worker at the store what she would need to get started with these chicks and he directed her to the feeders and other equipment. All the stuff she would have to have to start these chicks. The hardware store also sells chickens but had been sold out for months and had a waiting list for the next shipment. So in the door she comes with a fifty pound bag of chick feed and a brown shoe box that was peeping. The kids were excited about the prospect of some new pets and had a great time playing with them in the box. I sat and looked at the little yellow, fluffy, peeping things and asked myself what had I gotten into. They look cute now but what happens when they start to grow. One of the biggest issues that I had was to make sure these animals were cared for properly and humanly (until they went into the pot). I know almost nothing about raising chickens, and I will need to answer some questions.

• Where will they live?

- What kind of coop will they need to live in, and how much space will this require?

- Where should I locate the coop? Near or away from the house?

- How will I keep them warm in the winter months? And who warm to they need to be?

• How do you care for them? What things do I need to have to properly care for them?

- How fast will they grow?

- When can they go outside too live?

- What kind of diseases do they carry? And can they make my family sick?

- How long to they live? And when do they start laying eggs?

- How can I tell a male from a female?

- Is there anything I need to know before eating the eggs?

• How do you clean a chicken for eating?

- What is the process for cleaning a chicken?

- What is a good size to turn them into meat chickens?

-What do you feed them to fatten them up before slaughter?

-How will the girls react when one is on the table?

-Will they taste different without all the growth hormones and antibiotic in them?

Now that I have all these questions to answer I am getting somewhat excited about the future.

contrast intro #1

 

My grandfathers lived in the same town, about a mile from each other. Both were in WWII veterans, were decorated, and were war hero’s. I don't remember ever seeing them together or them talking about the other even though they knew each other. One was outgoing, upbeat, physically active and had a large family. The other was a home body and could often be found in his chair in front of the TV. Both men were loving and cared about there families. But how they carried themselves in daily life were quite opposite.

contrast intro #2

I have two daughters. One is seven and the other is almost three. They are both there fathers daughters and are good kids. But it staggers me when I see how different these two offspring from he same male and female are. They have some of the same facial features and mannerisms. But these two cannot be more opposite in personality. Because of my work schedule I play Mr. Mom on a regular basis and I have an very active role in my kids lives. I have done this since my oldest was an infant. Now, some of it may be the difference in there ages. But when I recall taking care of the oldest when she was almost three, things were much different.  I can say with almost certainty, if we had had the second one first...there would not have been a second one.

I-search BACKROUND

 

 

BACKROUND

As a small child I can remember my grandparents having farm animals. Chickens and a couple of horses as I recall. This was interesting because they lived in a suburb of Boston not really out in the country. This was interesting to me because we only would visit a couple of times a year and it was a great treat to see the animals. My grandfather had a chicken coop in the barn. My brother and I would play in the barn and my grandfather would yell at us not to upset the chickens. I was small and didn't understand what he meant about upsetting the chickens. As I recall the coop was only four of five small cages, with two or three chickens in each of them, in the back of the barn that were open on the bottom to the outside. I cannot remember what kind of chickens the were or if they lay eggs or not, but that they seemed very aggressive and nasty. There was and amazing stench coming from the manure pile under the coop. I can remember my grandmother saying she was going out to get dinner once and watching her walk to the barn. She was gone for quite a while and we were not allowed to go outside or near the barn. Some time later I remember her walking in the back door carrying a brown paper bag and she had feathers on her apron. I was confused why she didn't leave to go get dinner, and what was in the bag. She never even got into her car. It was fried chicken for dinner that night. Later I remember visiting and my Aunt, who lived with my grandparents, had build a larger coop outside that had a large open area in it and she had many more chickens. I was always intimidated by the chickens and the way they would go crazy when we would come around. They would make a lot of noise and fly around the coop. That was my only real interaction with chickens for the majority of my life. Growing up we only had house pets and never any birds. As an adult I can recall only one other experience with like this while invited to dinner at my then girlfriend, now wife's, grandparents house. We had a whole roasted chicken served up just like Thanksgiving. All the trimmings and was the best chicken I had ever had. I had never had a whole roasted chicken at my house growing up. Never. It was fantastic and I still remember what a how much I enjoyed the novelty of it. My wife, then girlfriend, said that the chicken came from out back, that her grandparents had always had a couple of them around. It didn't dawn on me until the drive home that that chicken had been walking around that morning. Now, I have four chickens living in my back yard. We bought them last spring with the idea the they would wander around the yard eating ticks, fleas and bugs in the garden. I had no prior knowledge of raising chickens, and all of a sudden I had four little yellow fuzz balls living in a box in the dinning room.

classification 5 graf essay

     I knew I had made the wrong decision within about a half an hour. BANG...SPLASH... the wave sweeps over the boat and now there is no part of me that is dry. The boat is healed over so much I have one foot on the cockpit wall to be able to stand. I have to much sail on her. In the harbor I had made a decision that could make this a miserable day. I had chosen to keep more sail on her as opposed to shortening sail, called “reefing”, in hopes to gain speed and arrive at our destination sooner. One of the things I like most about sailing is making the boat work at maximum efficiency. This is a hard thing to do, and I had passed maximum efficiency and had gone beyond. Now I was cold and wet and not having fun. How a sailboat operates and rides can be broken up into three categories. Too much sail, not enough sail, and just right. This determines how the boat will ride and how fast or slow you go. But most importantly it determines wither it is a calm, comfortable, safe ride, or a wet, bumpy, white knuckled, unsafe ride. The goal is to choose the right combination of sail for the conditions.  The balance between sail, wind and waves is like asking a beautiful women to dance for the first time. It is a delicate thing to do, can be hard to achieve, and if you do not learn how she likes to dance, you won't be easy to dance with her again.

      Having too much sail up on a sailboat can be dangerous and is always uncomfortable. The worst case point of sail is when you have to travel up wind. This is called “beating to weather” and the reason it is called “beating” is because it beats you and the boat up. Because a sailboat cannot travel directly into the wind it must travel back and forth, zig-zagging, up wind and into the waves to gain ground. Doing this requires the sails to be positioned pulled in tight to the center line of the boat. By doing this it makes the boat lean or “heal” over more. If you have to much sail on the boat will heal over so much that it is hard to stand and is very uncomfortable. Also, because you are going into the waves, the sea has a tendency to smash into and brake over the boat. This makes the ride very wet, and after having the salt water sting and chill your body for a couple hours, it can get a little old. Another draw-back to this point of sail with too much sail is that it is very hard on the boat. The forces placed on the boat with the sails and crashing into the seas can stress equipment and cause it to brake, and that is never a good thing. The greatest risk with having too much sail is that the boat may be “knocked down” this is when the boat is forced on it's side or “beam ends” at ninety degrees or more. If this happen the boat can fill with water and go down or break the mast. This is the worst case scenario.

     Having not enough sail can also make the boat very uncomfortable as well. This can be a tough one to fix. If you have too much sail you can usually reef the boat when it becomes uncomfortable. When there is not enough sail it can be hard to add sail once you are under way. It is a common mistake to shorten sail too much. With big wind and sea it is easy to take in too much sail. The problem with this, with either big wind or light breezes is, it that it is hard to get anywhere. The boat has to move, and the sails make it move. If there is too little sail you run the risk of staying out longer in bad weather and subjecting yourself to greater danger. With the lack of speed and progress under too little sail the weather may deteriorate and you can place yourself in a worse situation. If the wind is moderate or light, and you don't have enough sail, the problem is that you miss out on making the boat work efficiently and you just don't get anywhere. One of the greatest risks of having not enough sail is a situation with big seas and little sail up. Doing this causes the boat to get pushed up over waves and drop off the back of them. This is caused by a lack of speed and momentum. If you keep your speed and momentum the boat will carry through the wave an not loose much speed. This is dangerous because it causes the boat to surge, the waves suddenly slowing the boat for a moment. This surging can cause damage to the boat by suddenly and repeatedly shock loading components and causing them to break. Also the surging can cause people to fall and is very uncomfortable because you are always fighting to keep you balance.

     Having just the right amount of sail can be one of the most wonderful experiences you can witness. There is where knowledge and experience come into play. Understand what your boat will do, in different conditions is an art form all in itself. With just the right amount of sail the boat will move the water in the perfect combination of beauty and science. Understanding the science can create a beautiful thing. Keeping the boat safe an comfortable is one thing. But to combine that with speed is something all in itself. Most sailboats have more than one sail and by balancing these sails you can make the boat act differently in different conditions. Adding sail to the front of the boat and shortening sail on the back of the boat will drive the bow into the water. This is better for sailing with the wind at your back, and makes the boat go faster. Adding sail to the front and back of the boat, but taking sail out of the middle of the boat can make the boat ride comfortably in heavy weather while maintaining speed. Taking sail off the front and keeping sail on the back of the boat is best for “beating” into the wind. It allows the boat to ride over the waves somewhat and keeps them from smashing into the boat.

     The perfect balance between sail, wind, and seas is a hard thing to achieve. But when it is done it is magical. Harnessing the wind to slip over the water is graceful and majestic. It is amazing to think that man has been sailing for centuries and only until modern times did someone do the math and figure out how a sailboat moves. Before that, it was hundreds of years of trial and error. To be aboard a boat that is traveling fast, under perfect trim, is a thing to behold. It is a symphony. Many things working in unison to achieve something beautiful and amazing. But, if one of these things, such as a sail, is off or hits a bad note, it is noticeable and undesirable. Like a poorly played symphony, a poorly operated sailboat can cause people to leave and never want to come back.

Classification Outro

The perfect balance between sail, wind, and seas is a hard thing to achieve. But when it is done, it is magical. Harnessing the wind to slip over the water can be graceful and majestic. It is amazing to think that man has been sailing for centuries and only until modern times did someone do the math and figure out how a sailboat moves. Before that, it was hundreds of years of trial and error. To be aboard a boat that is traveling fast, and 

efficiently, under perfect trim, is a thing to behold. It is a symphony. Many things working in unison to achieve something beautiful and amazing. But, if one of these things, such as a sail, is off or hits a bad note, it is noticeable and undesirable. Like a poorly played symphony, a poorly operated sailboat can cause people to leave and never want to come back.

classification intro #2

 

 

I knew I had made the wrong decision within about a half an hour. BANG...SPLASH... the wave sweeps over the boat and now there is no part of me that is dry. The boat is healed over so much I have one foot on the cockpit wall to be able to stand. I have to much sail on her. In the harbor I had made a decision that could make this a miserable day. I had chosen to keep more sail on her as opposed to shortening sail, called “reefing”, in hopes to gain speed and arrive at our destination sooner. One of the things I like most about sailing is making the boat work at maximum efficiency. This is a hard thing to do, and I had passed maximum efficiency and had gone beyond. Now I was cold and wet and not having fun. How a sailboat operates and rides can be broken up into three categories. Too much sail, not enough sail, and just right. This determines how the boat will ride and how fast or slow you go. But most importantly it determines wither it is a calm, comfortable, safe ride, or a wet, bumpy, white knuckled, unsafe ride. The balance between sail, wind and waves is like asking a beautiful women to dance for the first time. It is a delicate thing to do, can be hard to achieve, and if you do not learn how she likes to dance, you won't be easy to dance with her again.

Classification intro #1

Sails on a sail boat are what drives the boat through the water. A sailboat wants to sail. It dosn't like the motor. It is what it is designed to do. How the boat rides can be broken up into three states of sailing. First is to much sail. Next, is not enough sail. And finally, is just the right amount of sail. Most sailboats have more that one sail and finding the balance between sail, wind, and waves determines how the boat operates. How much sail to have up, the wind velocity and sea state all determine wither you have a calm, comfortable trip or a wet and sloppy trip.

Cause Meta-graf

I was hoping my essay flowed a little better. I was trying to write it while watching my two year old. Lots of starting and stopping, up and down while trying to keep my daughter happy. She is a lot of work and needs to stay busy. I found that I had much more that I wanted to tell about. But it was too much and would have just made it confusing. I find that I can ramble on about most things, and I tried to stay focused and get my message across. I hope my point was made. In my mind it all makes sense, I just hope that it makes sense to the readers. My message was that even though things change they still stay the same. That how much technology has changed things in modern times. But, we are not that far removed from pine tar, oakum, and the old Jack Tar's way of sailing.

Cause 5 graf essay

Cause 5 graf essay

Slowly, I became aware that my jaw muscles were aching from grinding my teeth. The wind had been coming on from the South all day. I find that when the weather starts to build my mind becomes anxious about not knowing what is coming. That is why I was grinding my teeth. Sailing can truly put you in touch with Mother Nature. The feel of the wind gradually getting stronger on my face. I was receiving only the occasional mist of salt spray a short time ago, now it was coming over the side hard enough to make me duck. The smell of the salt air and decay of seaweed. The sound of the wind whistling in my ears combined with the growl of waves passing under the bow. It makes me think of sailors past, and how they must have felt plying these waters. I am sure that they felt exactly the same way I do.

When I was a child my father would take us out on the river and occasional out on the bay. We had power boats and typically went out fishing for mackerel on calm days. We would motor down the river and stop at the Port Clyde General Store where he would buy Wonder bread, bologna, and cream soda, too, as dad would say, “prepare lunch aboard.” Dad had spent four years in the Navy. His job had been more of a secretary than that of a sailor working behind a desk and not a helm. I do not think he was ever at sea. But you would think he was some sort of Admiral by the way he would order my brother and I around. He did have a basic knowledge of navigation and loved to teach what he knew to his sons. A father passing on his love for the water, just like his father had done. These were some of my first recollections of being on the water. The sun shining warm as I lay on the deck. The ocean, green, calm and slick looking, with only a gentle roll of some old sea swell. I would fall fast asleep in the warm sunshine, with the gentle rocking and a belly full of bologna sandwich and soda.

When I was introduced to sailing as teen it was through Outward Bound in the early 1990's. I had an adventurous side that matched well with sailing. I was outside, which I enjoyed, and was with like minded outdoorsy people. The sailing was in open boats call Pulling boats. They are made of wood, they were heavy, and built to be like the old Life boats the were on ocean going steam ships from the early part of the last century. There had two sails made of canvas and no pulleys or any sort of mechanical advantage to work them. They are called traditional boats. If there was no wind you rowed them with fourteen foot Ash oars called “Misery Sticks”. There were no electronics or creature comforts aside from a marine radio the was carried in an Igloo cooler along with the battery to run it. They called it “white knuckle” sailing. We were out in the elements all the time and you very much close to nature. There was nothing modern about these boats, in fact, the theory is, you were taught how to survive in these boats if your ship was sunk by a German U-boat. The theory originating in the 1930's when Outward Bound was started as a survival school. Make due with a minimal of equipment and a lot of knowledge. This was when traditional sailing ships were still common and still used to transport cargo and passengers.

In the future I gravitated towards these “traditional” boats. I got a job working as crew on a traditional wooden Schooner. This type of boat common on the coast of Maine and it is very unique in today’s world. It had no winches, all the sails were raised with block and tackle. You shortened sail by hand, had to know how to tie knots and had to understand the rigging. The Captain of the boat was also the owner and had grown up sailing on other traditional boats. He was glad to pass down all that he had learned over the years. He is a great teacher and mentor. The more I sailed with him the more I realized there was to know. Schooners once used in this part of the world to move cargo and people are still around. I found that there is a whole fleet of large traditional schooners along the coast. Some date back to 1871 and are still in service today only they are used to carry passengers instead of cargo. These boats are still operated that same way as when they were built. No motors, oil lamps, natural fibers to make the sails and rope, all the meals prepared on wooden cook stoves. It is like stepping back in time on these boats. On any given day sailing out on Penobscot Bay you can see ten or twelve boats over a hundred years old. This is the same scene that would have played out on the bay a when these boats were freshly built. I found that there was an amazing amount of history tied up on the dock next to me.

Now, I have sailed on modern boats, with all the latest, up to date technology. Satellite phones, GPS, chart-plotters, and radar. But what if you blow a fuse? You still have to know how to sail like it's a hundred and fifty years ago. That is how I am wired. I know how the old time sailors felt. I now the uncertainty of not knowing exactly what the weather is going to do. Not knowing exactly where I am, what time we will be home or if we will even make it back today. Not knowing if there are any other boats ahead of me in the fog. I have tasted the same salt spray, seen the same sail trim, felt the same ropes burn through my hands, as a sailor a century and a half ago. I can tell the name of a far off boat by the way its sails are rigged. I know how a wooden boat will “speak” to you. If you want to know what I mean, I will teach you. I learned what I know from a couple of old timers who were happy to share their knowledge. Knowledge that they got from some other old timer. I have had a taste of what is was like to sail in the old days, and I savor it.

cause outro

Now, I have sailed on modern boats, with all the latest, up to date technology. Satellite phones, GPS, chart-plotters, and radar. But what if you blow a fuse? You still have to know how to sail like it's a hundred and fifty years ago. That is how I am wired. I know how the old time sailors felt. I now the uncertainty of not knowing exactly what the weather is going to do. Not knowing exactly where I am, what time we will be home or if we will even make it back today. Not knowing if there are any other boats ahead of me in the fog. I have tasted the same salt spray, seen the same sail trim, felt the same ropes burn through my hands, as a sailor a century and a half ago. I can tell the name of a far off boat by the way its sails are rigged. I know how a wooden boat will “speak” to you. If you want to know what I mean, I will teach you. I learned what I know from a couple of old timers who were happy to share their knowledge. Knowledge that they got from some other old timer. I have had a taste of what is was like to sail in the old days, and I savor it.