My Childhood In Wisconsin “Up North. It’s the place people go to escape, a place made of cabins, pine trees, and lakes. But no matter how far you drive, there’s no sign to say “you’ve arrived” so just follow your heart till you find… your special place that brings peace of mind. As you breathe in the air and unwind… your cares are all left behind. It’s no mystery where the northwoods start when you arrive up north, you’ll know in your heart.” -Suzanne Kindler. Coming from a fifth generation Wisconsinite, I have never seen a quote more true. When I think of where I was born and raised in Mauston, WI, I think of peaceful, sunny afternoons hanging out in the backyard or trail riding through the forest with my horse. It’s beautiful, most afternoons …show more content…
The Voigt and Peterson awkwardness has been in effect ever since I can remember. There is never one big family Christmas like you see in movies. Nope, there are three. The first, is at my Uncle Mitchell's (pseudonym) and my Aunt Abby’s (pseudonym). Nearly the entire Voigt family is filthy rich and they all love their booze. The only ethnicities involved in the Voigt family are German, and Irish. My grandparents are the head of, and oldest of the family. My grandfather is a full-blooded German and the first of his line to marry out of the nationality. My grandmother is full-blooded Irish and weirdly never wants to talk about her family, ‘The Anglem Line’ as she calls it. Now that she’s got on-set Alzheimer's, she tends to talk about them more, especially at Christmas. Christmas with the Voigt’s is held every year on Christmas Eve, located at the very luxurious cabin of Mitchell and Abby. Their house is conveniently situated at the bottom of Christmas Mountain, in Wisconsin Dells; a ski resort. Usually those Christmases are full of my cousin’s karaoke, and my grandma’s charred pork roast; she’s always afraid of getting salmonella so she burns everything. The second Christmas however, is a little more laid back. It should be, considering my mom’s parents are off-gridders and totally at home with jokes about bodily functions. I call them Nana and Papa, mainly because it seems too awkward to call them Grandma and Grandpa. Besides, they do not generally adore being called old anyway. Nana is a full-blooded Dane, along with Papa Dave, while my grandfather, Bill, is German and Italian. With that said, when the Peterson and the Voigt families actually have to be together, there is a lot of drinking, and a lot of awkward tension. The third is at my house with only my immediate family, and Liddy on Christmas
Every cold Alberta winter, or dry summer, makes me long for the East Coast. When I grow tired of the brown dirty hills of Alberta, I can close my eyes and picture being back in New Brunswick, bright green meadows and clear rivers. I miss how the fog creeps into your yard in the early mornings, the bittersweet smell of the sea that never could be washed out, I miss the feeling of home. As a child, my family and I would road trip, traveling East to the sea. I remember how the vastness of Alberta would change into the golden prairies of Saskatchewan, then shift into the forested hills of Ontario, and finally the calm rocky shores of New Brunswick. I remember the house we lived in, white paint peeling off the sides of the house, a Canadian and Arcadian flag flying on the porch (put there by my historian of a cousin), floral green wallpaper clashing with antique, mismatched furniture. That house has been in my family for generations, each of our stories have been told, beautiful new memories have been made there. I miss it so much. I miss the beach side bonfires, sparks drifting so far away they became stars, the rainy marketplace days, coming home and smelling like fish. The Alberta cold makes my heartache, I want to go home. My home is a comfortable old cabin, where I grew to not be scared of a
Christmas Eve dinner came about and it became evident that her family had just about taken mixed race to another level. She had a cousin, Rebecca, that was married with a child and their small family was white and Jewish (Senna 296). Danzy’s sister had three children that were half Pakistani and they lived in England (Senna 296). Her brother was married to a Chinese woman and they had a young daughter together (Senna 296.) Carla Latty, Anna’s orphaned daughter, was cohabitating with an Indian woman. Senna discovered that at this family dinner, some of them are blood related and are just meeting for the first time. She recognizes the history that they all share in some shape, form, or fashion. Yet, it is not a day of rainbows and lollipops. Danzy and her sister have hurt each other and there is tension. Her brother and his wife hide their infant in the bedroom upset that the other children present had infected their baby. Her cousin’s daughter has declared herself as a lesbian at the age of eleven. Despite all of the obstacles and hurdles her family has faced, Danzy considers the Christmas Eve dinner “a victory” (Senna 301). Danzy’s brother says that “Anybody who finds him offensive can get the […] out” about a gift given to his child (Senna 300). That was his way of approving the
Wisconsin Dells was better than Six Flags because my family stayed longer. We were in Wisconsin Dells for four days, but we were only at Six Flags for two days. Because we were in the Dells longer, my family was able to create more memories. Six Flags may have had more attractions inside the park itself, but I felt rushed and did not enjoy my time there as much. The length of time my family spent in Wisconsin also gave us the ability to experience the numerous attractions found outside of the park.
Reminiscing is almost like a hobby for people, to be lost within another world of nostalgia and simplicity is something we all yearn for as we grow up. We miss those days of less and full understanding, of active and worn out adventures of children, of anxious anticipation of a the flat lands. Debra Marquart in her 2006 memoir “The Horizontal World” illustrates those memories in a hint of nostalgia. Through the use of imagery, allusions, and satirical yet nostalgic tone Marquart’s memoir demonstrates a lucid dream of North Dakota as an area of no interest that yet emboldens an American ideal of the Jeffersonian farming could occur for those who are willing to take up the offer.
I grew up in Hemet, California in a neighborhood filled with friends that I grew up with. I remembered a lot about my home that I grew up in mostly because I remember details better than most people. I may remember details, but I love looking back on memories I had with my family and friends.
The place you grow up will always effect how you think about the rest of the world and this seems to happen to the main character, Clark, in Willa Cather’s story A Wagner Matinee. Clark explains Nebraska as a dark memory that had a monotony landscape. “The world there is the flat world of the ancients; to the east, a cornfield that stretched to daybreak; to the west, a corral that stretched to sunset; between, the sordid conquests of peace, more merciless than those of war.” He never seems to mention anything bright. In your mind all you can think about are harsh, dark colors that make you realize how life in Nebraska at least was not the same as it was in Boston.
Gift-giving nowadays is no longer an act of kindness, but rather a political measure, taken to ensure one’s status with one’s acquaintances. While the general feeling of "goodwill towards men" still pervades the season, albeit filtered through television and municipal decorating projects, there is a great tension that precedes the actual Christmas holiday itself. I remember Christmases of my youth as enjoyable times, to be sure, but also as times when it was best to stay clear of my mother, who was inevitably in
I often wonder how I ended up in this little town in the mountains. I came from a relatively large city in Indiana, but knew that I had to escape the Midwest’s conservative grasp. I never really intended to end up in Flagstaff. For as long as I can remember, I had wanted to go to the University of Arizona and live in Tucson. I obviously didn’t end up in Tucson.
It was breezy day. The clear, light sky was breathtaking. Almost too gorgeous to foreshadow the disastrous day. It was on a tennis tournament on Saturday morning. I had confidence in my own abilities on that tennis court. As if I was Serena Williams ,the greatest tennis player of this century, and would win the whole tournament. I thought about my strengths and not my weaknesses on the bus ride to the tournament. Like my unpredictable serve, backhand strokes and killer volleys (that end points in an instant).
It was my sophomore year of high school and just like every Saturday, my family and I gathered around the T.V. to watch the LSU football game, so my dad could cheer on his Tigers while I was there for the band and the fantastic football food. That particular Saturday, LSU faced the Wisconsin Badgers, which according to my dad was going to just be a complete blowout and would result in another win for his beloved Tigers. As the game progressed, my dad blew a gasket since his team was losing to the underdogs at halftime, nevertheless, I tried to tune him out as the band marched onto the field for their show. I often preferred DCI shows rather than college bands, yet I was absolutely mesmerized by the Badgers clean technique and upbeat music that
Some Michigan Heroes can be people that helped you in life or helped you succeed in life. My Michigan Hero is someone that raised me, taught me everything I know in life today. This person is my idol, that gave me a hand when I needed one, or told me to keep my head up and never look down. I wouldn’t know what to do in life if this person wasn’t in it.
I experienced many exciting and nerve-racking situations, but none of the them were like the Wisconsin State Cup championship game. The Wisconsin State Cup is a tournament for all the best soccer teams in the state. My team made it all the way to the final game against SC Waukesha. We ended up losing in overtime, but we took second. Even though my teammates and I were defeated in extra time, it was a hot and evenly matched, enjoyment game.
My childhood growing up in Kansas was like a whole other world compared to my life now. Kansas is where one goes to watch the wheat grow, not raise a family. No one could convince my dad otherwise though. Recently divorced and newly married, he brought his two children from his previous marriage, my brother and me, to Kansas to be with his young pregnant bride. There awaited a promising new job and a whole new life for us all.
In her 2006 memoir, “The Horizontal World”, Debra Marquart displays her undeniable love, pride, and appreciation she has for the upper midwest. Through her multiple anecdotes and characterization of the Midwest she conveys these feelings about “the Heartland” clearly. First quoting Sylvia Griffith’s poem, “we are the folks presidents talk to when times require”, this anecdote explains the value of the midwest even as they “struggle to recover” from being pinned as “the great american desert” as edwin james put it. It highlights that although it has a plain and vast nature, its importance is equal to that of any state in the union. Additionally, Marquart uses the settling of the her grandparents in the west as a way to convey her pride for
It is incredible to understand how the way someone was nurtured as a child could have such an effect on there adulthood. I personally believe that the events that occurred in my early childhood were stepping stones to defined me as the person I am today.