This page is designed to share the texts we have written in class as a result of our process unit of study.  Our course text, Units of Study is based on the underlying framework that what we write should be inspired by what we read. From immersing ourselves in a variety of well-written texts and spending time in close study noticing author's process, we have each tried our hands at writing our own texts using the process we've learned.  Please post yours here and specifically address "What have you read that is like what you are trying to write?"  In other words, let us know your mentor text(s) and any author's craft you were intentional about implementing.   *Please add your first and last name and the title and author of your text with your post. 

*Process Study:  Punctuation

Martha Vest

Process Study Inspired Writing

For this unit I took my Slice of Life Essay on my mother and her dementia and converted it into poetry.

Choo choo

Slice of Life Essay

Martha Vest

“Sleeeeewwwp” involuntarily escapes from my lips as I raise the fork to hers.

She’s hungry tonight after her ridiculously long nap and she opens her mouth right on cue as the cereal approaches…like a baby bird opening for a wriggling worm.

There’s really no need for my sound effects or my encouragement of “Good bite” or “Down it goes”-she’s too old for all that, but it’s just force of habit.

Old habits die hard.

Hope she doesn’t think I’m treating her like a baby. She’s never said that…guess she couldn’t really form those words even if she did.

I tear the peanut butter and jelly sandwich into small bites and she quietly opens for the choo choo chain coming straight at her sweet, willing, familiar mouth.

I force myself not say “Choooo choooo” out loud. What would people think? But I sure hear it loud and clear in my head.

As I lift the apple juice, my darling girl raises her hand too and tries to steady the glass…all by herself. Look at her!  Wanting to do it herself…I’m proud and relieved to see her independence peeking out.

I keep my fingers intact, but allow her to guide the juice onto her dry lips and waiting tongue.  Gulp. Gulp. Gulp.

That girl had some Jif stuck to the roof of her mouth!  Oh, that Jif! The food of the gods…of little bitty girls and teenagers and even the very old. 

Oh, to know the number of peanut butter and jellies eaten at this very table…who could count them?  If we had a nickel for every one fixed here over the years, we would be rich women.

We need to finish this meal quickly, because she is starting to shake. Just a tremor at first, then quivering hands and feet, and minutes later a full shake. Not sure why she shakes after her dinner…it’s just one of those mysteries that even the doctors have to shrug off.

Before we can get her up though, she must finish her cold sweet milkshake which chills her even more.  Not for the delight of the sweet cream and the taste of strawberries, but for the extra calories that her now bony frame needs. We call it a milkshake even though I doubt she understands that word. 

As the Ensure can empties, I wipe her wet chin.

“You were a hungry little girl, weren’t you?? Oh, you ate so well, Mama. Let’s get you up and wrapped up in your special electric blanket.”

As you steadied my juice and emptied Jif jars and wiped my chin and said “Choo choooooo” and wrapped me up in my special blanket, so I do now.

Old habits die hard.

Free Choice Writing-Poetry

Martha Vest

      Feeding the Baby

I suck SLHEEEEWPPP

As the fork touches her closed lips and they open.

It’s been years since I made that sound…

But then it’s been years since I fed a baby.

Good bite-down it goes-hungry girl tonight.

Encouragement to fatten her up,

To fatten up those once strong loving arms.

Old habits die hard.

Apple juice mixed with fiber powder

To wash down the peanut butter and jelly.

Yogurt slides down with no effort

As her mouth opens and reopens like a blind, naked jaybird.

For dessert a milkshake.

Creamy strawberry slips down her throat

As she chugs to keep up the pace.

She’s trembling now, ready for another 22 hour nap.

As the Ensure can empties, I wipe her wrinkled chin.

Old habits die hard.

Hungry girl.  Hungry Mama.

Hungry patient one

Who once held the fork.

Hungry one who is almost with me.