Imitation Practice: Model 6
Passage 6 “On summer, along about 1904, my father rented a camp on a lake in Maine and took us all there for the month of August. We all got ringworm from some kittens and had to rub Pond’s Extract on our arms and legs night and morning and my father rolled over in a canoe with all his clothes on; but outside of that the vacation was a success and from then on none of us ever thought there was any place in the world like that lake in Maine.”
by E.B. White, “Once More to the Lake”
I was young, maybe about twelve, when I swore I would never own a mini van. I was in the seventh grade getting picked up from Fairfield Jr. High School and it rained and I needed a ride so my mother pulled up in the red boat decked out in a clown costume; but rather than sabotage my love for Halloween the only thing that could ever console me was my heightened repulsion towards mini vans.
The most awkward, well apart from blind dates, social encounter is getting a hair cut at the hole in the wall salon at the bottom of State Street. There you are forced to sit for two or so hours and engage in unnatural conversation with a lady about your age with blue and pink hair who has nothing nice to say about my going to BYU and going to Africa in the summer where I won’t take any hair product; but come to think of it the dentist might be a little worse.
When I was 17, or maybe I was 18, my parents were going through the second round of child custody disputes that lead me to Dr. Hale. Not that I needed any more psychological damage after getting kicked out and writing an affidavit and switching schools and losing friends and breaking up with my boyfriend; And I couldn’t help but laugh when I read the picturesque motivational poster on the wall, thinking that if life was that simple then I was definitely in the wrong psychiatrists office.
Around August 1904 my family rented a camp on a lake in Maine. We got sick and tipped the canoe, but the vacation was a success and there was nothing comparable.
August 1904. We rented a camp on a lake in Maine, all caught ringworm, rolled a canoe, and despite the success none of us ever thought there was anything like Maine.
Oh Maine! There isn’t a place like you in the world! Do you remember that August, along 1904, when we rented that camp on the lake? Can you recall the ringworms and the time the canoe tipped over dad with all of his clothes still on? To this day I think none of us have ever thought there is anything like you.
Inversion of Parts:
There isn’t a place like Maine in the world. We once had a successful vacation there; despite my father rolling over a canoe with all his clothes on and the ringworm we got from the kittens when we rented a camp there for the month of August. It was a good summer, along 1904 I believe.
Sure Maine is nice if you like rubbing Pond’s Extract on your arms and legs night and morning from the ringworm you’ll catch from the kittens, or if you are a big fan of tipping canoes with all of your clothes on. Yeah if you are okay with that then consider yourself over qualified for a one months camping trip on the lake in August. There isn’t a place like it in the world.
I really enjoyed this form, especially the second sentence that is a bunch of concrete details strung together with ands and no commas. I think I botched it up in a few spots, but I like saying a lot and setting the scene without having to separate it out.