I walked in the door of my grandparents’ house for the weekly visit with a gaping smile on my face. I love going over there because my granddaddy used to always give us a dollar a piece when ever we saw him. The sun beamed down on my back as I leaned into my granddad to give him a hug and a kiss. He was in a wheelchair and had only one leg but he always acted like he didn’t have a care in the world. My granddaddy was always a happy man.
I heard my grandma walking down the long hallway, with the wood floors cracking beneath her feet. With each step the came a squeak of being trampled on.
“Hey sweetie how you doing?”
I ran and gave her a big hug too. This time like usual my whole family had come-- which included my mom, sister and brother -- so we took a good five minutes giving everyone hugs and kisses and getting reacquainted. At the time I was little at the time about seven years old but one thing I knew was that whenever I visit my grandparents, grandma always had something cooking in the kitchen. I headed straight back there to see what was on the stove. From the second I walked in the door I could sense the aroma of something that would be good to my stomach, and sure enough there was. As I made my way back there my stomach began to growl. I wasn’t hungry when I walked in the door, but somehow once the scent of my grandmother’s cooking went up my nose that all changed.
I was first in the kitchen but not the first with a plate because it was tradition for my granddaddy’s plate to be fixed first. Once his plate was fixed we all followed. The fried chicken had the perfect amount of seasoning like grandma always does and it was juicy and every bite had flavor. I rubbed butter all over my corn on the cob. I sprinkled what my mom thought was too much sugar on my rice. The kitchen was free from talking but full of smacking and crunching and silverware hitting plates. Granddaddy tore into that corn on the cob because every time I looked up he had a kernel on his mouth unaware of it unless someone pointed it out.
We finished up and then headed back to the living room to talk and just catch up. I hadn’t forgotten about the dollar granddaddy gave us and I hope he hadn’t forgotten either. I didn’t want to be rude and ask for it. On the way to the living room he stopped in his bedroom and gave me a dollar along with my sister and brother. We continued to the living room to chit chat. Everyone sat in there with full bellies until conversation broke out. Someone turned on the television and the volume of six voices rose higher. Not long after I noticed granddaddy was tired and roll his wheelchair out into his room to take a nap. We continued on with what we were doing.
“My grandchildren sure have grown, what have you been feeding them children Brenda?” grandma said.
I sat there listening mostly not doing much talking at all. They had a dog that I absolutely adored. Her name was Patches. She was very old and moved slowly. After realizing I was no longer a part of the conversation, I called patches to me, who was lying under the living room table from the time we walked the door till now. In turtle speed she lifted her head up and began moving the rest of her body until she was away from under the table and on all fours.
“Come here Patches” I repeated, so she started walking toward me. She laid her head on my lap and I lightly stroked it.
Moments passed and I realized I had to go to the restroom. I stood up and walked down the squeaky hallway to the bathroom passing my granddad’s bedroom on the way. I was almost there when he called me.
“Who’s that walking down the hall?”
“It’s me granddaddy.”
“Come here for a minute.”
I walked back a few steps to his room. The door was wide open so I walked in and asked what he needed. He was lying the bed, relaxed and comfortable.
“Can you reach over there and hand me my teeth?”
My head slowly turned until my eyes came upon a glass with teeth in it. At that exact moment I froze. At age seven I had no idea that teeth could come out and be put in a jar. I though everyone had teeth like mine up until that second everything made sense to me. Still standing still in shock, frightened to death, thoughts ran through my mind. I felt hot then cold. A rush of blood ran to my face and I couldn’t move. I just stared at the teeth in the glass. The pink gums looked so real and the teeth were perfectly straight. I was fascinated yet frightened at how real they appeared. Just an hour and half ago those teeth were cleaning a piece of corn on the cob and some fried chicken, but now they were in a glass just sitting there in a clear liquid. I assumed it was water until I regained consciousness and feeling in my legs just enough to take a step towards the glass to peer in. That’s when I smelled s minty scent. Now as I begin to think about it there was something peculiar about how he chewed. His teeth did sound a little different when they clamped down together on that corn on the cob especially. The sound of quiet horse trods came to mind or two hard coconuts being tapped together. Granddaddy’s gums were pinker than anyone’s I have ever seen. I just thought he had perfect teeth. How could someone take his gums and teeth out like that and put them in a glass? At that age I had no idea that was possible.
A bubble surfaced and I stepped back to my original spot. What seemed like twenty minutes was only about two or three minutes.
“Monica” my granddad said startling me.
“Grandma!” I screamed to the other room “granddaddy want his teeth.”

Quiz

1)

• classroom is an information dump
• authorized information is beyond discussion
• trust the authority for good information
• information is scarce and hard to find

2) The classroom can be an information dump but the information is just sitting ther because nine times out of ten students really are not taking in what is being put out. All of this knowledge is being put out but if there is no understanding then it really is useless. When teachers just talk and talk and talk away making no sense at all students don't benefit. They think that because they are giving students so much information it all is going to be taken seriously.

Authorized information most ccertainly can be discussed because there is nothing stopping it from being challenged. Going along with what is always said isn't good because many things, many untrue things would have would have remained to be fact when it really wasn't. I think everyone would just be a little bit dumber without stopping to ask questions and wondering why something is instead of going along with what authoruty says is.

Authority cannot be trusted with good information because first of all they do not know everything and besides who are they?

Information is almost relatively unlimited with all the resources we have out here today. With the internet especially there is too much to go through but you have to be careful and pick out or be able to find the truth. The information is out and it is endless.

seasons

Good friends are hard to come by and I mean the really goods ones, not just those people you hang out with but then don't call unless you need something, but the ones that don't mind you waking them up in the middle of the night when some thing's wrong. How can you let a good friend go? What if it's for their own good? What if you know not being friends would probably make their future a happy one? How do you say I cant stand to bare the thought that if we remain friends you might regret it? It's that anyone was in the wrong, but maybe just chose something else over me. I'm not talking about a girlfriend or boyfriend brake up or any thing just a great friendship. Maybe you Begin to wonder if this is a season of your life that has come and gone and now transitioning to another. The final leaf has fallen off the tree and the sun sets early. The wind blows a little harder and the temperature is a little cooler, but summer comes back around again...eventually.