Moving Mom and Betsy to the island was a simple event because most of their luggage was already at the island. We took their remaining bags the day they checked-out. Betsy took over the second floor bedroom at the end of the hall across from the bathroom. A large window looked out at the baseball diamond and the Papworth’s property. Two narrower windows looked out at the shipping channel over the same porch that ran in front of Deb’s room. Mom and Dad stayed in the room with the upstairs fireplace and a covered porch facing Alexandria Bay, but Mom’s true niche was the front porch. I wonder now if a plaque should be placed there in her memory. She was content to sit and read for hours, all the while keeping track of who was coming or going and in which direction. I came to regard this porch as one of several features that distinguished Comfort Island as an extraordinary setting. I thought of my tree houses that never offered a better vantage point or a more comfortable place to sit and relax. I’ve never tired of the bird’s eye view of boats and wildlife that comes into focus from that site. It is simply spectacular. Wicker furniture, convenient tables and a railing with a story to tell are among the accouterments that made this venue more like a nest than simply a place to sit and rock a while. Mom thrived on company, a martini, and conversation when the “porch opened” at five. A cornucopia of fun and interesting personalities came to enjoy a libation and frequently stimulating conversation. Those demonstrating a strong attendance record included Deb and I, Peter “Salad,” George Gerhardt, Bouie Arnot, Tom Folino, and notably, Trey Vars. Trey gets extra credit because at one time or another, he brought along a cast of characters th... ... middle of paper ... ...sland history. I hadn’t noticed until he pointed it out, but one section of the rail was flat. Apparently one evening in 1883 Great Grandfather Clark placed his martini glass on the peak of the rail in front of his rocker and it toppled off to the ground below. Dad continued by saying, “The next morning the story was that Grandfather Clark instructed one of his workers to plane that rail flat, and that he didn’t care a hoot about the danger of rot.” I found it reassuring to hear that Mom was doing her part to uphold the tradition set by the first wave of Comfort Island martini drinkers, and it became a curiosity for me to test that flat section for soft spots each summer thereafter by rapping on it with my knuckles. The railing is now 130 years old, and despite decades of neglect I have yet to find an area where the wood has even the slightest amount of give to it.
A. Creech accounted for many memories during her early childhood years. She took many trips with her parents and four siblings. She enjoyed the company of others and making memories. Often, grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins, and friends visited her and her family, making her always used to warm, large, extended family. Her favorite memories came from Creech’s traditional summer vacations to various destinations. She loved road tripping with her “noisy and rowdy family” across the country. Her never-forgotten memories eventually led to her recreation of the trip into many of her books.
The book Grandpa and Thomas provides many opportunities for students to make meaning of this text. Text-to-self connections can be made by students remembering times when they have ever gone to the beach, or gone on a special outing with their grandpa. Relating this text back to other Pamela Allan te...
Brown, Victoria Bissel, ed. Introduction. Twenty Years at Hull-House. 1910. By Jane Addams. Boston: Bedford/St. Martins, 1999. 1-38.
She had been in New York for quite some time, doing well in school and with a brand new best friend. When she returned to her grandparents, she nurtured her grandpa in his last moments, and when he had taken his last breath a little bit of Jacqueline had slipped away as well. It isn’t that she hadn’t cherished the time with her grandfather, but as if his death was too sudden, and when she had started to really find her way in New York and South Carolina began to fade into a memory, the news was a wake up call.
During week two of this course, we discussed the visual arts “Today we often think of art as precious things on display in a museum. However, that was not always the case, and the visual arts include more than just painting and sculpture. Architecturally crafted and designed objects—articles of daily use—are may be considered art.” The entire property of the museum was a piece of visual art from the waterfront property to the RainScape garden, the unique historical artifacts and preservation of the land. During week four we learned about literature and this museum had its own library. The Captain Avery Museum’s library contains a sizeable collection of printed materials, newspaper clippings, oral histories and photographs relating to Shady Side, its surrounding communities and the Chesapeake Bay. Topics include the families, businesses, churches, buildings and history of the area; the watermen of the West River and the Chesapeake, the Avery family and the home of Salem Avery, and the history of the Shady Side Rural Heritage Society, the founding organization of the Captain Avery
Her smile was radioactive, many described it as being sly or in Jamaican slang, genal. She was fondly called Ms P. by friends and family, but I called her Mommy. Mommy was a single mother of five children, three girls and a pair of twin boy. I was the youngest. When daddy left I was too young to remember the details, but I was told by both mommy and my siblings that he was caught cheating with the nanny. Having zero tolerance for cheating mommy looked to an old Lada car parked near the front of the yard, once painted a vibrant red with leather interior had since undergone an extensive remodelling courtesy of the weather and has since been redecorated with rust and
Edna speaks of the summer they spent away “with their grandmother...in Iberville.” Even in their extended absence she missed them only with “an occasional intense longing,” perhaps as someone might miss a city, or an old tattered stuffed toy. She seemed to feel towards them more as family, loved and missed, but not intensely as a mother would.
The old wooden bench greets me as it leans its back against a sturdy pine tree. It beckons to me to come share its secret world, to watch the day and all its happenings from its sacred sanctuary.
Ann Charters. Boston: Bedford/St. Martin’s, a 2011 book. Print. The. Gilman, Charlotte.
The narrator of "Everyday Use" is the mother, and the story opens with Maggie and her mother waiting for Dee to arrive. The mother?s description of her family?s yard, "a yard like this is more comfortable than most people know" (Walker 1149), shows that she is happy and content with her current surroundings. This land is a part of their family?s heritage, and the mother is comfortable l...
When Bradstreet’s next grandchild, Anne, passed away, she was unable to resist it. She lost her control and become disappointed. She wrote a poem under “In Memory of My dear Grandchild Anne Bradstreet, Who Deceased June 20, 1669.”5 The poem starts with the speaker
Schwartz, Frederic, ed. Mother’s House: the evolution of vanna venturi’s house in chestnut hill. New York: Rizzoli International Publications Inc, 1992.
Have you ever visited a place so beautiful and serene that you couldn’t imagine a more stunning place? For me, it is the shimmering and flowing waters of the ocean. The way that the deep blue waters meet the gritty beige sand leaves me in such awe. The water is like a soft blanket, comforting and inviting. The unique wildlife and vegetation that exists on the beach is something I’ve never seen anywhere else. There is no place more beautiful and thrilling than the beach.
Fortunately, I wake every morning to the most beautiful sun lit house. I sit on my porch sipping coffee, while I drink in an atmosphere that steals my breath away. Rolling hills lay before me that undulate until they crash into golden purple mountains. Oh how they are covered in spectacular fauna, ever blooming foliage, and trees that are heavy with pungent fruit. Green it is always so green here at my house. Here where the air lays heavy and cool on my skin as does the striking rays of the sun upon my cheeks. I know in my soul why I choose to be here every day. Pocketed in all the nooks and crannies of these valleys and hills are stately homes, rich with architecture resplendent. Diversity is the palate here; ...
Another wonderful quality about my spot on that swing is the fact that it is outside. It is out in the fresh air and natural light and away from technology. I never bring a cell phone or laptop there. I feel as if technology would somehow corrupt the natural beauty of the spot. I do not need to worry about telephones, cell phones, or e-mails in that spot. The beauty of nature is enough for me. It helps me to clear my mind and gives me time to reflect on what is really important in my life.