Personal Narrative: Maple Syrup
I was following my father, trying to keep up. With each step my foot sank into the snow up to my knee. The snow wasn’t really that deep, but it was for an eight-year-old boy. We had gone out to collect zinc buckets, filled with clear, odorless and tasteless liquid, which we had set up a few days before. The liquid was sap from maple trees that would eventually be boiled down to become syrup. It was that time of year again. Each spring we travel to our farmhouse in Upstate New York where we make maple syrup, a process known as sugaring. To make maple syrup we tap the maples, collect the sap and boil it in pans placed over a stone fire pit in our backyard. Although we had done this for as long as I could remember, I had never actually been involved
Everett Ruess: A Short Story
1356 Words | 6 Pages“Uh-oh”, said Everett, “Go into the igloo, Frank, an avalanche is coming!” They rushed into the igloo as the snow came rushing down the mountain. So much snow came down in the avalanche that igloo was covered by snow. With limited food and water, bitterness began to grow between them. Frank had all the food, which was some cornmeal and salted pork, so Ruess could only eat if he traded a precious print in exchange.
Rhetorical Analysis Of What Is Snow Like
663 Words | 3 PagesDoyle promulgates a description allowing for deeper analysis of snow; “Snow starts white and then gets grayer and browner and sometimes black as if it’s rotted, which in a real sense it does,” creates an image in our head that begins to form a life-like cycle of snow, you may compare it to metamorphosis, a physical transformation occurring in nature. The audience can then conceptualize snow and its traits, seeing they have never experienced it firsthand. His description deepens the image his audience has formed of snow throughout his article. Initially, Doyle aims to have his audience picture the physical transformation of snow, even when not in its
Personal Narrative: My Michigan Hero
602 Words | 3 PagesMy Michigan Hero I want you to think of someone special, to think of a hero. When I think of a hero I think of my dad. I remember when I was younger, and I didn’t like to read. My dad taught me just how amazing reading is.
Personal Narrative: St. Lawrence Dairy Princess
513 Words | 3 PagesThroughout life, we all have wished that we could have a do-over. We have done many things we wish we could go back and change. If I could have a do-over, I would join the St. Lawrence County Dairy Promotion sooner than I did. I would have joined four years ago instead of in 2015.
Personal Narrative: Tim Hortons
830 Words | 4 PagesWhen I was seventeen I worked at a fast food restaurant called Tim Hortons. It was my second job and I surprisingly didn’t hate it. Actually, I really quite enjoyed the people that I worked with. During school days I would work the evening shift, which was from 2 P.M. to 10 P.M. Then on the weekends I would work in the morning from 6 A.M. to 2 P.M..
Personal Narrative: The Perfect Pumpkin
659 Words | 3 PagesOn a cold and blustery November morning, I was walking around the Newberry farm searching for the perfect pumpkin. The farm owner, Mr. Johnson was welcoming and incredibly kind to allow me to wander wherever I wanted to on his farm. While walking, suddenly, I came upon the most perfectly shaped pumpkin. It was big and round and I knew it was Mr. Johnson’s best.
Personal Narrative: 21-Day Sugar
2046 Words | 9 PagesSugar Detox Results The 21-Day sugar has been growing in popularity recently. I had always been curious about trying it but hesitant of jumping on the wagon. I wasn’t quite sure if it was legitimate or a trend. Ever since I entered college, I lived a life of sitting in study halls and eating top ramen.
Personal Narrative: The Plague Of Food In Canada
195 Words | 1 PagesI had to go to work again I can 't do it much longer because we are getting less and less money and food. There is a massive famine right now. I had to weave mats and blankets for eight hours straight and for lunch I had a onion and just a tiny piece of bread. When I was done I had to buy food with the five cents I earned for today. I 've bought bread and grain.
Maple Tree Monologue
125 Words | 1 PagesMy name is Bob and I am a maple tree. I hate it when people put dagger-looking things in me. Why do the people need that gold, yellowish, sticky stuff anyway? When someone comes near me, I dump my leaves on them.
Personal Narrative: My Two Kitchens In Quebec During My Summer
554 Words | 3 PagesI have been fortunate to work in two kitchens in Quebec during my career and know first hand their respect for and love affair with wild game. In fact one of the restaurants had an all game menu in the fall and it is where I cut my teeth as a Saucier and new graduate from French cooking school. Cross the border into Ontario and the same menu would not be touched but the deeper you delve into Quebec the more game shows up on the menu like venison, rabbit, quail, partridge or wild boar. Quebec also has a strong hunting heritage which definitely bolsters the consumption of game and if you know any hunters in Quebec you will sooner or later be gifted a hunk of moose, bear or venison for your freezer.
Oppression In Night By Elie Wiesel
1236 Words | 5 PagesThey brought us bread – the usual ration. We threw ourselves upon it. Someone had the idea of appeasing his thirst by eating the snow. As we were not allowed to bend down, everyone took snow off his neighbor's back. A mouthful of bread and a spoonful of snow.
1.08 Personal Narrative
989 Words | 4 PagesIt was an early December morning. The roads were slick with a thin layer of ice. The air was crisp with a winter chill and there was a slight drizzle falling from the sky. I was riding in my dad’s truck to my grandma’s, who babysat me while my parents were at work. My little brother Kaden was also with us.
Marcus Luttrell's The Lone Survivor
796 Words | 4 PagesAs the white glitter swirls outside of the water residue stained windows, I shiver at the thought of being outside in this harsh winter. I live in South Dakota, where you can never escape the skin cracking dryness of the biting cold. Our winters are never kind, and I couldn’t imagine living in any harsher conditions. I recently read a book, however, about a man that did. This man suffered through more than just bitter cold.
Suspense In Jack London's To Build A Fire
735 Words | 3 PagesThe narrator describes the Yukon Territory as 75-degrees below freezing and being a highly treacherous for anyone to travel alone (2). By introducing this hostile environment, London creates tension in the reader as they begin to question the man’s safety in the freezing cold temperatures, After the man falls into the river and starts to freeze to death, he builds a fire in order to survive. As the fire grows and the warmth spreads, the snow on a tree falls, knocking out his fire. Through struggles such as this one, suspense is created due to the severity of the danger the man faces and the risks involved in the
Descriptive Essay: The Beauty Of Snow
761 Words | 4 PagesThe day was just after my brother’s birthday and we had just finished celebrating his birthday. My brother was more surprised, however, by the amount of snow that covered the yards outside. We both awoke to a sight much more impressive than that of December, a white landscape obscuring everything laying on the ground, including the cars. My brother and I changed faster than firemen getting ready for a rescue, as we ran outside to see the fascinating snow that surrounded our neighborhood.
More about Personal Narrative: Maple Syrup
Everett Ruess: A Short Story
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