Homework Activity for "Summer Rituals" Due by 8 p.m. Tuesday Night
Here it is:
Think of a summer ritual (remember the definition given in my first post) and respond to these questions from your handout.
What summer ritual do you participate in? Why do you repeat this ritual? What purpose does it hold for you? For others whom you know? For society in general? Use concrete examples in the same manner as Ray Bradbury. Write no more than 125 words in paragraph form.
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21 comments:
Hi,Brad:
I'd like to make it clear if we won't be allowed to write other season rituals but summer rituals only?
Have a good night.
Yes, summer rituals. I'd rather not hear about the big, public, ones like lunar new year etc. Try for something personal if you can.
My summer ritual
It is called afghan reunion. It is a group of my friends living in different cities in Canada. They migrated from all over the world, but they are afghan nationals. Because we don’t see each other a lot during the year, so we get together once a year in the summer for a retreat in one city. We vote to pick a location every year. It is very important time for me and for our friends. Although it is not for very long, but it really helps us to bond with each other and catch up with our relationships. The reunion has many activities such as playing sports, going camping, eating together, sharing our success stories, failures stories; at times we share tears or joy too. The soul purpose of this ritual is to inspire and empower each other. I really cherish this ritual because we can contribute to our community what we gain from each other every summer.
Harvesting Ritual
Harvesting was a big ritual in summer time before I left my hometown. My father planted many things in our yard: grape, fig, haricot bean and balsam pear. As if a big umbrella, the old fig (it was older than me), covered almost one quarter of the yard and contributed cooler fresh air in the hot days. Especially, it gives us two or four kilograms pear-shaped purple fruits everyday. The honey-like smell attracted not only kids but also birds. My father had a chance to “borrow” his grandson’s squirt gun to play or to drive birds like he said. He fueled it up with water, aimed at the top of the tree, and shot. He certainly was the happiest one during the ritual.
First draft: 123 words
Hi,Catherine:
Well done!Your "Harvesting Ritual" successfully showed me a beautiful picture. Those figs,haricot bean and balsam pear from your pen made me mouth watering and I seemed to be able to see a old man with a squirt gun in his hand, and he was shooting around as happily as a kid.
Meanwhile, there are some mistakes in your paragraph.
a)in sixth line, the comma follows "the old fig (it was older than me)," should be taken off.
b)in tenth line, "Especially, it gives us two or four..." "gives" should be "gave."
c)in fourth line, "My father had a chance to 'borrow' his grandson’s squirt gun to play or to drive birds like he said," the expression is not clear and makes the readers feel confused.
Hi,Jonathan:
You have given me more information and understanding about your community and your culture, thanks. However, I have to say that there are too many "tell" in your paragraph. Hope to see more "show" in your next article.
I grew up in a small picturesque village. I remember my childhood with warmth and regret for this time will never return. Especially, I miss the winemaking time at the end of the summer. My family prepared for this event entire week. The oak barrels were dragged out of the cellar and washed. My father used to wash them with brewing of oak-tree leaves. He believed they absorbed some of the flavours of the barrel. The main step in making red wine “Isabella” is to make sure the grapes were perfectly ripe to be picked. We picked grapes carefully to prevent bruising. Also we removed bugs and leaves from the grapes, and placed them into the hand machine, which gently squeezed the juice out. I liked to drink the tart juice without waiting for it to obtain a smooth taste. Then the wine was poured into bottles and used for special occasions. Since I moved to Canada, I am unable to participate in this summer ritual which became a tradition for me. On the other hand, my father does not imagine his life without winemaking time, and he does not trust any factory produced wine.
These days, he invites me to take part in every summer wine ceremony, unfortunately I can’t be there, but my heart and soul bring me into my family home for this unforgettable ritual.
My Summer Picnic
In the last two years,every summerI had an special summer ritual: going out on a picnic which my christian friends take part in.Everyone brought the most delicous food she or he could make.We not only enjoyed fresh fruits,sweet dessert,and tasty meat but also chatting . In fruit section, golden bananas,bright red strawberries,and oval purple grapes are competing to show off their beuty.Children could not resist diced verdant melon and red watermelon.In dessert section ,apple jelly in a big glass box is like cystal.Chocolate sponge cakes with snow-white coconut butter attracted young girls.In a barbecure pit,chicken, fish , and spareribs sputered in their own fat.The smells of meat made men feel hungry. The air was filled with children's laughing and adult's chatting as well as chirping of birds.After eating,children played games shch as hide-and-seek,and adults continued to converse.I love the ritual because of the following reasons: First: I could converse with my frieds for a long time to consolidate our friendship. In addition, we invited many other friends to join us ,so I met many new friends.I think the summer picnic as a very important thing.
Summer cleaning
When I was a kid, as the spring said her farewell, my father used to launch a big cleaning that would involve all of my family members.
“Tony, clean the tables and cabinet,” My elder brother, Peter, was giving the order like a boss. “Larry, mop the floor.”
“No,” I shouted loudly. “I hate mopping.”
“Who care what you hate or like, just do it.” Peter spoke harshly.
“Then, what do you do, my big boss?” I asked, with a challenging tone.
“Gotta buy something.”
“Hi, man, you gotta shopping when we are working?” I screamed, and ran up to my dad who was washing a load of clothes with his hands.
“Dad, you’ve heard Peter, right? Tell him who is a real boss in this family.”
“Peter is,” Dad shrugged, and added after a second: “for today.”
I cried out.
Dear classmates,
I remember we should “Write no more than 125 words in paragraph form.”
How many words do you have in your piece?
Catherine,
A good point! And I'm an offender as well with 146 words! I will go back and revise out some words to reduce its length. I'll allow 10% over or so (around 140 words or so) to be ok as well.
Here's my revised version of 124 words.
Hiking with John
From my mid thirties through mid forties my pleasant summer ritual was hiking with John. John was a good friend, a man who loved to walk in the mountains. We hiked for eleven summers. My arms scratched by branches, sweat dripping off my nose, I followed him up impossible slopes. The views after we’d scrambled up a rocky scree, loose rocks pinging off boulders on their way to the valley below, were inspiring. The air was sweet. We even saw a grizzly bear—about five meters away—and lived to tell the tale. Those who had the pleasure of hiking with John never forgot it. I would have never climbed so high, travelled so far, nor seen so much if it weren’t for him.—124 words; second draft (first draft was 146 words)
Haha! My first draft was 141 words. I've took off one words,now it is 140 works that meet Brad's requirement perfectly. Here is my new draft:
When I was a kid, as the spring said her farewell, my father used to launch a big cleaning that would involve all of my family members.
“Tony, clean the tables and cabinet,” My elder brother, Peter, was giving the order like a boss. “Larry, mop the floor.”
“No,” I shouted. “I hate mopping.”
“Who care what you hate or like, just do it.” Peter spoke harshly.
“Then, what do you do, my big boss?” I asked, with a challenging tone.
“Gotta buy something.”
“Hi, man, you gotta shopping when we are working?” I screamed, and ran up to my dad who was washing a load of clothes with his hands.
“Dad, you’ve heard Peter, right? Tell him who is a real boss in this family.”
“Peter is,” Dad shrugged, and added after a second: “for today.”
I cried out.
Here's my revised version of 125 words.
Harvesting Ritual
Harvesting was a family ritual before I left my hometown. My father took great care of every life in our yard: grape, fig, haricot bean and balsam pear. The old fig (it was older than me) acted as a big umbrella, covered almost one quarter of the yard, and contributed cooler fresh air in the scorchers. It gave us two or four kilograms pear-shaped purple figs everyday. When they grinned, they exposed their honey hearts that not only drew on kids but also birds, so my father had a chance to “borrow” his grandson’s squirt gun to play fair and square. He fueled it up with water, aimed at the top of the tree, and shot. He certainly was the happiest one during the ritual.
Here's my third draft of 125 words.
Driving of “Thieves”
Driving of “thieves” was a family ritual before I left my hometown. My father took great care of every life in our yard, especially the old fig (it was older than me). It covered almost one quarter of the yard like a big green umbrella, provided cooler fresh air in the scorchers, and contributed two or four kilograms pear-shaped purple figs everyday. When they grinned, their honey hearts not only drew on kids but also birds. My father called them “thieves”, so he had a chance to “borrow” his grandson’s water gun to play fair and square. He fueled it up with water, aimed at the “thieves” with wings flying into the tree, and shot. He certainly was the happiest one during this special ritual.
Summers were so hot we just had a choice to stay in air condition rooms. Every summer in Taiwan, our electricity bill had a terrible price. During summers, our family would hold few days vacations to my hometown where located on a pretty natural mountain. There was much cooler than the city where I lived. Our family members gathered there, camped there, and barbecued there. During the nights, people talked about their lives, and their special experiences. Taiwan was almost urbanized everywhere, and we could have a little place to visit nature during summers was my biggest pleasure in my life.
Enjoying the Cool
The most impressive summer ritual in my childhood was enjoying the cool in the summer night. As the sun fell down near the horizon, varieties of bamboo chairs were summoned from different houses to the most ventilated and coolest place. The children jumped on the bamboo beds and called their companions. Fruits, tea, and ice soup by every family were on the table. The elders chatted while they sipped the tea, and they comforted and encouraged each other. We never changed groups. In my group, we had a rule: we started to tell ghost stories when the moonlight was strongly shining. Although I worried about the dark alley on my back way, I still met them everyday. With them, I not only enjoyed the call of summer night, I also enjoyed the warmth of a big family.
-140 Words.
Unforgettable Orchard
In summer, I recall my childhood. When I was young, my grandfather had a pear orchard. Every summer, my family had to spend a lot of time to produce good pears. My role was to protect the pears from birds. During the summer vacation, almost every day I had to go to the orchard before lunch time. My younger sister and I went there with our homework and lunch boxes. There were no houses and no people around the road to the orchard. It was a desolate place. The orchard was located in the middle of a plain. Our job was to beat a big empty can to scare away the birds that were eating the pears on the pear trees. As soon as my sister beat the empty can walking throughout the orchard, I shouted “Woo, woo.” The sound drove the birds away from the trees. We were a team. Sometimes we felt fear because there was an isolated place. We two young girls had to stay there without adults for a long time. We depended on each other. The situation tied us very strongly. Until even, our relationship is special. Whenever I remember my childhood, I see two girls holding lunch boxes wrapped in old cloths. They are walking down the country road and wave towards me. At that time I didn’t like my work, but right now the memory is my favorite picture in my life.
I have 167 words. Next time I will be carefull. Very good Larry! Your right, mine is very informative. Thanks
My special summer ritual is a ceremony for ancestors on July 25. In that afternoon, the males of my family went to the cemetery and invested our ancestors for a summer celebrating with us. Females were very busy at home: clean up our yard, put old stalks of sesame on it. When males finished inviting, they were walking on the street quietly, like real ghosts. They could not say anything and look back. After the males got home, we kneeled down and kowtowed to a tablet with our ancestors’ names, reported the harvest of this year and asked for blessing. At the dinner time, we used three dumplings to show our respects to the God, used four dumplings to show our gratitude to our ancestors. I love the ritual. Everybody in my hometown is connected by this ritual.
August 8
August 8 is my back- to- school date. This is a tradition of my high school. Every August 8, the grads from all over the country, some from abroad come back to school for the reunion. I was the chairman of the student committee at high school, so it is incumbent on me to organize the ritual. Some classmates come every year, some not. Mr. Dong, who was the teacher in charge of our class, is the center every time. We report him what we’ve achieved. John comes this year. He is a worker in a small factory. For supporting his family, he gave up the opportunity to go to college. This is his first year to come, maybe last time. We are looking forward to the ritual next year.
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