Office Supplies

Anecdote Number One: In my closet at home I have a box of old papers and pictures from my early school days. I still have the first story I ever wrote in first grade and the book report I wrote about Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of Nimh. My favorite keepsake from preschool is a questionnaire I filled out during preschool.

Name: Natalie Sharpe

Favorite Color: Red

Favorite Food: Rice

Favorite Animal: Lion

Favorite thing to do: Punch Holes

Yes, my favorite thing to do was punch holes.

Anecdote Number Two: One year when I was around 5 years old my mother heard me talking to myself in my room. She stood by the door and heard me praying to God for Santa to bring me office supplies for Christmas.

Its a true story, my favorite toys as a child were office supplies. Pens, pencils, hole punchers, staplers, stamps, notebooks, paper clips, envelopes, and erasers were my toys of choice. I spent hours pretending that I worked as a hotel receptionist, booking rooms, writing statements, and stapling everything together, after punching some holes of course. I still have my cherished blue box of office supplies upstairs in a cabinet. Hopefully my children will enjoy playing with office supplies because I'm going to keep my box for them.

Room with a View

My house is at the very top of an old volcano which is now called Aubrey Butte. My bedroom window covers the entire northeast wall of my room. The view outside my window changes from season to season. From my window you can see a lot of pines trees, and a few juniper trees. There are a lot of rocks that are left over from the volcano exploding millions of years ago. In the fall the ground is covered in pine needles which are slippery when it rains. Pine cones fall on the ground like acorns do in the spring. You can here them coming from way up high in the pine trees. All over bend they fall. During cross country practice when we would stretch in the park we would all cover our heads when we heard them coming. The tiny juniper tree outside my window was planted when we moved into the house 13 years ago. Juniper trees grow incredibly slow so the tree seems only slightly bigger than it did many years ago. I have grown taller in those 13 years. When the snow arrives it covers all the rocks, in a blanket of white. The snow makes everything look soft and comforting as if I could throw myself out of my window and land without pain. The snow makes everything the same color. When the sun peeks out from the clouds the snow sparkles and wakes me up if its early in the morning. When the snow begins to melt and then the winter night freezes the snow again icicles form outside my window. When I sleep I can hear the water dripping off the icicles. When the snow melts which actually occurs in late may the plants my mother plants finally have a chance to grow and turn green. The oak leaf hydrangea right under my window turns green and the white flowers bloom. Sometimes I forget those flowers are there and I love being surprised when I open my window and see the tops of the blooms. The summer months bring me blue skies and green plants. Quail families scurry past and the squirrels wait under the bird feeder waiting for birds to scatter birdseed on the ground. My sister runs past with her dog as they go for their morning walk. The juniper tree, not even an inch taller stands in the sunlight and when I go outside I can touch the top of the tree knowing that someday, it will be taller than me.

The Open Window

I really enjoy short stories that have an unexpected twist at the end. I know that I immediately trusted the young girl, Vera, when she began to speak of her aunt's great tragedy. She told the story with conviction and plenty of details, all which suggested that she was telling the truth. I also trusted her because I don't know many people who would come up with a story that sad and troubling on the whim, as a trick to play on a stranger.

One thing I don't understand is what Mr. Framton is doing. Is he visiting people in the area to introduce himself since he is new? Why is he talking only about his illness and what his doctors have advised him to do? It seems odd that both the girl and the Mr. Frampton go into so much detail about their lives (even though Vera's story is untrue) when they do not know each other at all.

It seemed to me that Vera was well practiced in the art of deception. When she told the story of why Mr. Frampton is afraid of dogs she was quick to come up with an explanation that was disturbing and scary. It seems strange to me that her imagination would lead her to tell such macabre stories. There seems to be something "off" about Vera. As my mother would say, "Her elevator doesn't go all the way to the top."

If I were Mr. Frampton in this situation I don't think I would have been so quick to bolt. I would have been interested to see how the young girl, caught in her lie, would react to the three men returning home. It seems that Mr. Frampton was too caught up in the possibility that the people he saw were indeed ghosts and not men. That would be a little unsettling I'm sure. If I were him I would be more creeped out about the little girl who made up the weird story about her own family members dying. Perhaps she is the one in need of a doctor's visit.

For some reason this story also reminded me of the book, "Wuthering Heights" and I can't get the images from the movie out of my head. The moors, open window, and the ghosts brought Heathcliff and both the Cathy's into my thoughts.

Under the Ridge

Ernest Hemingway's "Under the Ridge" short story portrays war in a haunting way. The imagery and dialogue he uses paints a descriptive picture of the war-like scene we, as readers, are transported to. There are a few things that are mentioned more than once in the story which I would like to point out because I believe they hold some sort of importance.

1- Dust

"In the head of the day with the dust blowing, we came back, dry-mouthed, nose-clogged and heavy-loaded down out of the battle to the long ridge above the river where the Spanish troops lay in reserve." The first sentence gives the reader an idea of what the day has been like, and what kind of place they are in. The people and mules and tanks in this place are unsettling the dust and it blows away in the wind. Dust is unpleasant and unavoidable. It sticks to you and reminds you of where you were and what you were doing. The dust on their clothes reminds them of when they had to crawl on their bellies to avoid the machine gun fire of the enemy after they discovered that the Poles did not gain any new territory at all. Dust is disappointment, it can blow away, but only to find a new place to settle.

2- Failure

The attack was a complete failure. No one executed their orders. "The French tank commander had got drunk to be brave for the attack and finally was too drunk to function. He was to be shot when he sobered up. The tanks had not come up in time and finally had refused to advance, and two of the battalions had failed to attain their objectives. The third had taken theirs, but ot formed an untenable salient. The only real result had been a few prisoners, and these had been confided to the tank men to bring back and the tank men had killed them. The general had only failure to show, and they had killed his prisoners."

3- What does it mean to be considered Brave, and what does it mean to be considered a Coward?

In the story a Frenchman with "his head held high" walked over "the edge of the ridge and out of sight." This man was obviously walking away from his duties as a solider. The narrator of this story doesn't believe the Frenchman's actions to be cowardly. However, the men in the leather coats certainly did and made him pay for it. The narrator stated that, "He could walk out of it (the hopelessness and idiocy of their situation) not from cowardice, but simply from seeing too clearly." The narrator states in the last paragraph that "The nearest any man was to victory that day was probably the Frenchman who came, with his head held high, walking out of the battle." Why is walking away the sole victory of the day?

4-Setting Examples/Consequences of Actions

The boy Paco, who shot himself in the hand out of fear, was made an example by his officers. He shot himself so that he could be excused from the front to be bandaged and cared for. He wanted to escape the terror of battle so he shot himself in order to leave. It was an act of cowardice that made him react to battle in this way. His officers wanted to show the other soldiers that reacting to battle in that way would not result in pity. "Paco must be punished as an example, in order that there would be no more self-inflicted wounds, and that all others would be punished in the same way." To me, it seems that Paco was already ashamed of his actions and suffered enough for that. However the officers made him feel more ashamed and his last living emotions were that of embarrassment and regret. "Then, while the one held Pace by the arm; Paco, looking very ashamed to be spoken of this way when he was already ashamed and sorry; the other took his pistol and shot Paco in the back of the head without any word to Paco. Nor any word more."

This story delves into the deep questions of what it means to be a man. What is bravery? Who should be considered a coward, and who shouldn't? Also, I think it allows the reader to think about what he or she would do in this kind of situation. Are you more like the Frenchman, Paco, of the Extremaduran?

Cafe Conversation

I met with Nathan for the third time last week after class on Thursday. We met in the library cafe again and this time I brought my computer. I'm so glad I did because it gave us a lot of talk about. I was working on homework when he arrived and he immediately assumed I was on Facebook. I asked him if he had a Facebook and he said yes. So I logged on and added him as a friend. Then I decided that Facebook would be a good way to show Nathan pictures of my family and my home.

First I showed him a picture of my twin sister, Hilary. Most of her pictures feature her jumping over barriers and water obstacles as she runs the steeple chase so he was impressed by her athletic lifestyle. I then showed him a picture of us side by side. He said we did not look alike at all and that he would not have guessed we were twins. Then I showed him pictures of my older brother, Nathan, in Seattle. I visited Nathan, my brother (not my conversational partner), during spring break so we took a few pictures. Then I showed him a picture of my mother and some of the things that we did in Seattle.

Lastly, I showed him pictures of Oregon which made me somewhat homesick for the mountains. Nathan thought my pictures were very beautiful and expressed interest in traveling to other parts of the United States. I asked him if he had considered traveling around the U.S. during the summer. He said that he wanted to but that it was difficult and very expensive because the U.S. is so spread out. In Europe one can travel from country to country simply by catching a train. That is exactly what he plans to do this summer. He and a few of his friends have a planned a trip to go to Italy, Spain, and a few other countries by train this summer. He is very excited to be back in Europe and with familiar faces.

I asked Nathan if he was planning on returning to TCU in the fall and he was unsure. He says that he likes TCU and that school here is easy for him but that he misses his friends and family in Belgium. He has one sister here but I think she has become accustomed to Texas in a different way than him. Nathan seems to be strongly tied to his friendships in Belgium and I wouldn't be surprised if he transfers to a Belgium university that is in his hometown. He said that he has already applied and been accepted to the university so all he has to do is make a decision.

I told him that I thought it was brave of him to decide to study here in America, especially since he knew so little English. He said that he was glad that he came and that he has learned a lot of English but that a year without family and friends is really hard. I can't imagine not being able to go home for an entire year. My first semester of college I was separated from my twin until Christmas and that was hard enough!

Nathan and I plan to meet today after class. I'm interested to see what we talk about this time.

Sea of Change

This is perhaps the best example of the Iceberg theory we have read so far. The reader has barely any information to make a claim about the characters in this story. Here is what I think.

I think the girl cheated on the man with another girl. I think she is bisexual and is experimenting with her identity. The man is obviously upset and states, "I'll kill her." He is confused by her action and asks, "Couldn't you have gotten into something else?" She responds with, "Seems not." I think she is struggling with the fact that he is upset. She doesn't want to hurt his feelings by being attracted to girls.

Event though she cheated on him she still states that she loves him. That is confusing for him and he doesn't believe her. He asks her to prove it. My guess it that he wants her to prove it by not being with a girl. She gets a little upset when he asks her to prove and says, "You didn't use to be that way. You never asked me to prove anything. That isn't polite." This statement leads me to conclude that they have been in a relation ship for a long time.

The couple that comes into the bar is two men. They converse with the bartender. I think it is interesting that it most of Hemingway's stories there are couples. Usually a man and a girl, and they are usually alone or only accompanied by wait staff. I wonder why this is.

At the end of the story the man decides to let the girl go. I think they both believe that she will decide she isn't a lesbian and that she will return to him.

He is taking a chance by letting her go and "he was not the same-looking man as he had been before he had told her to go." There was a change in his character that was noticeable to him and her. I don't know why he is trying to tell the barman that he is "quite a different man." Maybe he feels he has to prove himself to someone.

I liked this story and am very interested to hear the discussion we have today in class.

Cat in the Rain

I think I am completely missing the meaning behind this story. I think the best way to figure out what I'm missing to first state what I know.

-There are two Americans, George and the Americ-an wife or girl (she is referred to as both)

-They are staying in a hotel in Italy

-It is raining

-There is a cat outside the window that is sitting under a table trying to not get wet. The wife is looking at the cat and decides that she wants it. She decides to go downstairs to get the cat and the American (her husband) says, "Don't get wet."

-The wife likes the hotel keeper. "She liked the deadly serious way he received any complaints. She liked his dignity. She liked the way he wanted to serve her. She like the way he felt about being a hotel-keeper. She liked hid old, heavy face and big hands."

-She is about to head outside when a maid comes to her with an umbrella in her hand. The maid was sent by the hotel keeper.

- The Maid says, "You must not get wet."

-When the American girl gets outside the Cat is gone and "she was suddenly disappointed.

-She re-enters the hotel and the hotel keeper bows at her. "Something felt very small and tight inside the girl. The padrone made her feel very small and at the same time really important. She had a momentary feeling of being of supreme importance." ???

-"It isn't any fun to be a poor kitty out in the rain."

-She looks at herself in the mirror starts talking about how she wants her hair to be longer. "I get so tired of looking like a boy." Why does she suddenly feel less feminine?

-Then she lists things that she wants. "I want to eat at a table with my own silver and I want candles. And I want it to be spring and I want to brush my hair out in front of a mirror and I want a kitty and I want some new clothes."

-Her husband tells her to shut up and find something to read

-She then states, "I want a cat. I want a cat now. If I can't have long hair or any fun, I can have a cat."

-Then the maid knocks on the door with the cat in her hands and says, "The padrone asked me to bring this for the Signora."

Do the padrone and the American have some sort of connection? Why is he so protective of her wishes and feelings?

Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, why does she want a cat??? Dogs are fit to be much better companions. But I suppose that is a topic for another blog.

Poetry Symposium

I really enjoyed listening to the poets speak at the Poetry Symposium: Living by Poetry.

What I found most interesting about the symposium was when the poets talked about important poetry is to them.

Art said that he tried to not write any poetry for a year or so. He said that it almost destroyed him. To me it seems incredible that the simple act of poetry (or lack thereof) can have that much effect on someone. He was literally in pain and didn't feel like himself because he was not writing. I think for Art, poetry is his release from life. He can focus his emotions on something other people. I think he uses poetry as an outlet to express his feelings and thoughts. I believe that everyone needs some outlet for expression. It is not healthy to go through life with a jumbled mess of emotions hidden deep down inside. Life if full of unexpected twists and turns and I think a part of dealing with those events is to express in some way how you feel about them.

After some reflection I realized that there are many things in my life I could not go a year without doing. The first one that comes to mind is playing the piano. At home I play the piano almost everyday. Sometimes I practice for a few hours and sometimes I just play. Practice and play are very different and serve different purposes. However, I enjoy both and would miss both if my piano was somehow taken away. Like poetry is for Art, the piano is my outlet of expression. I choose the songs I play based on my feelings, the weather, what time of day it is, where I am, and who is listening. I can play softly when I'm sad and loud when I'm angry. The piano is a blank canvas on which I can create any sort of picture that I want. Without that I think I would feel lost and maybe a part of me would be destroyed, much like Art when he stopped writing poetry.

Another interesting part of Art's story was that he said poetry found him. He was 17 years old when he wrote his first poem and besides that one year period, he has been writing poetry ever since. I am interested to know what called upon him to write that first poem. What was it about? Was it something he would publish today? One thing about life that is very interesting to me is the concept of firsts. What was your first poem, the first song you played on the piano, the first school you ever went to, your first kiss, your first solo drive. The first time we ever do something can be terrifying, or exhilarating but all first time experiences have some sort of meaning.