Father and Daughter weekend became my favorite weekends, as a child. My father made sure that it was never boring when FDW (father/daughter weekend) came around. Every weekend, my father had just one goal to accomplish and that goal was to teach me something no matter what. Well, at the age of eight, my father took me fishing for the first time. When my father and I arrived to our destination, at five o’clock that morning, the smell of freshly cut grass slaps me in the face, almost taking my breath away. As I unloaded my dad’s 1997, red, two door, low rider, Sonoma truck, my dad called me to this dirt pile. But this dirt pile was no ordinary dirt pile. The dirt smelt like an “outhouse”. My dad said, “Rose, this is where you will be getting your bait to fish.” I was thinking to myself, …show more content…
My dad made a bet with me and the bet was the one that catches the least fish has to clean them. About two hours later, I saw my dad getting a little irritated with me. Maybe the irritation came from me catching about 12 fish before he had caught one. As I was making jokes about me catching more fish than him, I caught another one and asked my dad to take it off the hook. My dad said, “Take it off the hook yourself, and bait your own hook too while u at it. I done showed you how to do it 12 times!” so I grabbed the fish in my hand and let it go immediately. The fish felt like a wet pair of snake cowboy boots. Being mad at my dad, I grabbed his spare shirt , wrapped it around my hand, grabbed the fish, and took the hook out of the fish’s mouth. Just when I thought the hard part was over, I remembered that I had to put a shitty ass worm on my hook. So I took a deep breath, with the hook in one hand, and stuck my other hand in the container full of worms. The worms felt like moving noodles inside of my hand. I dropped three worms before I got one of them on the hook
Don’t you wish you could go back in time to change those bad memories? That’s what Lionel Sherbousekis going through in a short story called “Goin’ Fishin’”. Chris Crutcher wrote Athletic Shorts and the story “Goin’ Fishin’” is about a boy whose father loved fishing and while their family was fishing one day a boat full of drunk kids smashing into them but Lionel luckily save the boat before it hit and jumped off. This is what the main character in “Goin Fishin” was feeling when his family died in a boating accident.
A poem without any complications can force an author to say more with much less. Although that may sound quite cliché, it rings true when one examines “The Fish” by Elizabeth Bishop. Elizabeth’s Bishop’s poem is on an exceedingly straightforward topic about the act of catching a fish. However, her ability to utilize thematic elements such as figurative language, imagery and tone allows for “The Fish” to be about something greater. These three elements weave themselves together to create a work of art that goes beyond its simple subject.
Every summer my family and I go to our house in the cape just north of Boston. One hot summer morning, I was leaving the house to meet my family at the beach, suddenly I remembered my mother asked me to pick up a jar of “Kingfish Herring” for her and her friend to snack on at the beach.
Coming home from the grueling experience of being a soldier in World War I, he felt ecstatic when he saw a trout swimming in the stream. The perils of war took a devastating toll on Nick, as he suffered from a physical wound while in action. The camping trip here is like an oasis, which will let Nick to recover from all the distress. “Nick looked down into the pool from the bridge. It was a hot day. A kingfisher flew up from the stream. It was a long time since Nick had looked into a stream and seen trout. They were very satisfactory...Nick’s heart tightened as the trout moved. He felt all the old feeling.” (178) The healing process begins here with Nick re-acclimating himself with one of his favorite hobbies: fishing. “He started down to the stream, holding his rod...Nick felt awkward and professionally happy with all the equipment hanging from him...His mouth dry, his heart down...Holding the rod far out toward the uprooted tree and sloshing backward in the current, Nick worked the trout, plunging, the rod bending alive, out of the danger of the weeds into the open river. Holding the rod, pumping alive against the current, Nick brought the trout in...” (190,193,195) Nick finally reels in a trout after the big one got away, getting to the feeling of relaxation and washing away the horrors of war. By pitching his tent out in the forest and being able to function by himself so smoothly, Nick shows how he represents the trait of stoicism. He did not complain or stop living, coming back with the trauma of war. Going camping, he is able to relieve himself through using all the nature around him, showcasing his
My friend had invited me along with him and his family to the ocean. It was vacation for the family, but for him and me it was the beginning of a week of serious business. We had an obsessive hobby to pursue. As avid and long-term freshwater fisherman, we were thrilled by the thought of catching those large and exotic saltwater fish we had seen on television a billion times before. Yet little did we expect there to be such vast differences between our freshwater fishing and the saltwater fishing, which we were about to pursue. We learned through trial and much error that in order to have a successful saltwater fishing experience we had to make adjustments to all the freshwater tackle, tactics, and gear we knew.
After stumbling upstairs I go to the computer and turn on Da Yoopers’ “Da turdy Point Buck”, the song our family must listen to before we head out the door and into the woods. With the song blaring through the house, I walk into my brother’s room, turn the lights on, rip the covers from his bed, and narrowly escape a swift kick from his leg. After a breakfast of pancakes my brother and I jump into his truck and head for the hills. We own 120 acres three miles from the house, so we must drive to our destination. Any other morning there would be no vehicles on the road, but this particular morning we pass about ten other trucks all taking their passengers to their particular hunting spots.
I?m on the step to soaking in the ground and I?m draining in the ground. I?m waiting to get cleaned all of a sudden a worm comes and eat me. I guest the worm didn?t see me there so I bang on his yelling ?Hey you umm wormy can I get out of here pl-ease?
Sitting in the back seat between two towering piles of clothes and snacks we drive up the abandoned streets of Adell. I see vast open fields of corn and dense wooded forest filled with life, along with the occasional, towering grain house. We pull into a dry, dusty, driveway of rock and thriving, overgrown weeds. We come up to an aged log cabin with a massive crab apple tree with its sharp thorns like claws. The ancient weeping willow provides, with is huge sagging arms, shade from the intense rays of the sun. Near the back of the house there is a rotten, wobbly dock slowly rotting in the dark blue, cool water. Near that we store our old rusted canoes, to which the desperate frogs hop for shelter. When I venture out to the water I feel the thick gooey mud squish through my toes and the fish mindlessly try to escape but instead swim into my legs. On the lively river banks I see great blue herring and there attempt to catch a fish for their dinner. They gracefully fly with their beautiful wings arching in the sun to silvery points.
As we pulled out of my parents driveway, the circumstances seemed very surreal. My entire way of life had been turned upside down with only a few hours consideration. I was very much “at sea” in the ...
America has many days dating back in history which need to be celebrated. To illustrate, the fourth of July is very important to Americans because it is the the day they have gained their independence and freedom. Celebrating the most memorable day of the country, citizens have made fireworks and barbeque a tradition every year with family and friends. The fourth of November,Thanksgiving, is also commemorated by fellow Americans with a traditional and delicious turkey. Inhabitants of America reminisce on their life and share what they are thankful for. This day holds plenty of joyous feelings. Soaring with high creativity, Halloween is a holiday that allows children (or even adults) to dress up as witches, monsters, or other characters besides
I’m on a muddy, yellow bus coming back from camp. I'm twelve and so are you. Prior to leaving for camp, I had imagined it would be just me and three, maybe four, other boys that I hadn't met yet, running around all summer, getting ourselves into trouble. Playing games and just enjoying our summer. You know, typical boy stuff. Ultimately it ended up being me and this one girl. That's you. As long as we are still on the bus its like we are still at camp. Once we reach the pickup point where our parents would be waiting for us camp will be over.
Have you ever had something happen in your life it made you so happy you still remember? I do. I remember the day my mother made a surprise party for me. She knew that turning fifteen in a Latina's world meant so much. My mother couldn’t afford to do me a Quinceañera- the celebration of a girl's fifteenth birthday in parts of Latin America . It is celebrated differently from any other birthday, as it marks the change from adolescent to young womanhood.A Quinceañera is a celebration in which a girl turns fifteen which in the Spanish speaking countries it is a recognition of her journey from adolescent to young womanhood. It starts out with a religious ceremony. Afterwards comes the reception which is held at home or at a banquet hall. The celebration includes food, music, choreographed dances or waltz (performed by the quinceañera and her court). A court is made up of fourteen people ( seven young girls and seven young men) plus the quinceañera making it fifteen. She wears a ball gown. Normally the gown’s color is chosen to be white or pink but in last few years it has changed as more trends come out. Some dresses are now chosen to be blue, purple, yellow, orange, red, and even black. As I was growing up I started hearing about girls turning fifteen getting ready to plan their parties and inviting people to their quinces. They would say they would get a DJ or a Mexican/ Guatemalan group to come sing at their party.
When I was a young child I would love to hear my parents tell me that we were going on a trip. I would be full of excitement, because I knew that we would be going to a place that I had never seen before. My parents, my brother, and I would pack our luggage and venture out in our small gray minivan. Three of my most cherished memories in our minivan are when we went to Disney World, the beach, and the mountains.
My favorite summer vacation was when my Father took me to Universal Studios in Orlando, Florida. It was one of the most memorable experiences of my life. What made it even more memorable was the fact that it was my very first time on an airplane. I cannot recall another time in my life when I experienced so much joy. That trip to Universal Studios was the first time my Father and I actually did something together, just the two of us and was something brought me close to my Father. In this essay I will tell you about my plane ride over there, what I did right when I got there, and about my time at Universal Studios.
My most memorable family vacation took place two years ago. We went to Corsica, a French island situated in the south of France right next to Italy. I remembered waking up early excited to visit this new land. Used to take long flights, I was surprised to arrive to the destination after a one-hour flight. Even though the flight was short for me, it was stressful for my mom, she has never felt secured in a plane, probably due to the fact that she is afraid of height. When finally arrived at the destination, the dry and warm weather was there to welcome us. We all felt relief, and knew that this was the beginning of the summer. Excited, we had a lot of activities planned for the few weeks, me and my father could not wait to dive in the clear