Essay on Pen

Personal narrative Jazzy Ellsworth 5hr. For some people trying new things is not what they want to do in their free time they prefer to stay in their comfort zone, But for me it's different. I love to do new things and get others to do it with me. A way to do this is to try to see their feelings through their eyes into their heart and words to know that person as well as you can. To get them to try new things. This happened between my Grandma Penny,Buffy and me. My Grandma Penny died of…

point and he was way past his expiration date. He was the curdled milk leftover in the fridge that needed to be thrown away. Problem was, there was no one to throw him away. There was just him and time and a pad of paper and a pen. So Tom sat down in his chair and picked up his pen one last time. He began to write about the wolves. The wolves that would come tonight. They would come in vast numbers to kill him. Hungry and vicious, they would come to pick him apart. He wrote it out knowing how…

marker. “Look at my name” as she shows me her name and smiles. She goes to check her schedule then back to the table. “I try orange, ” she says t the teacher. “RED!” and she open playdough. She gets a rolling pen and it drops to the floor, “got it” she says and retrieves the rolling pen from under the table. She rolls playdough into balls, then says “Get that green one” as she points to a cookie cutter. She then gets up to get green scissors from other table, puts playdough into a tube…

In the play, As You Like it, Shakespeare pens through the character Jaques, the proverbial saying, “all the world's a stage and all the men and women merely players.” No doubt, we are all players on the world's stage, but like Shakespeare—whether we've ever put pen to page, or fingers to keyboard, to spin a yarn or not—I believe we are all storytellers as well. As the oft-quoted dictum goes, knowledge is power, and stories, ab initio have been its modus operandi. Romantic, or realistic,…

many animals and the mass production of corn. “At first I thought the cattle were standing or lying in grayish mud. Then it dawned on me - that wasn’t mud at all. It was manure. An endless series of cattle pens stretched to the horizon, each one home to a hundred or so animals. The cattle pens, filled with animals and their waste, are built around a corn mill.” (Michael Pollan, The Omnivore’s Dilemma: The Secret behind What You Eat) It is very scary to find out that the food you eat stands in…

discuss how they are alike and different they talk about what they like to do together, they recalled their summer picnic at the beginning of summer camp and how much fun it was. During this picnic trip, they met their 6-grade pen pals. The students created their own story about pen pals in the park. Next, the students divided into teams, one team played a sorting game with words, and another group used magnetic vocabulary words to write selected from their story to write sentences. Next, each…

attempted to runaway or had already attempted to runaway to prevent himself from being sold. Many of the slaves were chained together with slaves weren’t considered a flight risk to prevent this. The slaves were placed into pens at the trade markets like cattle. In these pens they did form connections that helped some keep in touch with their family members. The slaves perspective came from a person who was trapped and alone in a place where change was imminent, and they had no control over what…

them) that a friend of his, who was also having dinner with them, could sell anything. Jordan's friends, in disbelief, watch as this salesman grabs a pen and says “write your name down on a napkin” to Jordan. Jordan replies, “I don't have a pen”. He responds, “exactly, supply and demand”. Jordan explains that he creates urgency for the customer to need a pen in order to write his name down. This all ties in with the…

dust clouded my eyes for a minute. All you could hear were the little piglets squealing and crowds of people talking. Since we got there two hours early we had time to walk around to each pen and see all the pigs and decide which ones we wanted to bid on. As soon as I saw the little red pig in the back of the pen. I knew he was the one I wanted. I looked at the orange tag number on its ear and it read thirty-seven. So I looked in the program and read that it was a pure-bred Duroc so I figured…

It was no doubt that he smelled like a conjunction of excrement and soil, most days he would roll in his pen like a dog that had just been freshly bathed. The strong spice of methane gas and dust being shot up your nose was all part of the experience. When he got soaked in the rain, it penetrated his odors into his coat, leaving an even stronger scent. On…