Essay on Abandoned Farmhouse by Ted Kooser

Inside were curtains, a couch, a stove, and potholders. You are where you live. She was somebody.” (Quindlen, n.d.) Immediately, as a reader, I felt the emotional weight and connected to Quindlen and her homeless friend Ann. Quindlen’s description of the photograph allowed me feel as if I had lost something, even though there was no physical connection.

“On the outskirts of town, within the verge of the peninsula, but not in close vicinity to any other habitation, there was a small thatched cottage. It had been built by an earlier settler, and abandoned because the soil about it was too sterile for cultivation, while its comparative remoteness put it out of the sphere of that social activity which already marked the habits of the emigrants. It stood on the shore, looking across a basin of the sea at the forest-covered hills toward the west.”

American History never seemed interesting to me, especially when I was asked to choose an informative historic sighting. Many sites did not call my attention nor appeared to suit my interest, that is until I researched the The Bennett Place Farmhouse and discovered the history that hides behind this simple farmhouse. Fascinated by my trip, my perspective opened up to a variety of views and ideas about the battles and surrenders that resulted from the Civil War. The history of the site, the valuables and sighting, and my reflection towards the Bennett Place Historic Site all contributed to my understanding of the many surrenders that occurred during the great Civil War .

Treat yourself to a selection of custom built Amish barns designed to your specifications and add additional features and functionality as you wish. You select the size, style, color, materials, roof, floorboards, and everything in between. J&N Structures manufacture the finest quality custom horse barns built by Amish master craftsmen and sold through a network of dealer distributors in the Eastern United States. We are currently in South Carolina, North Carolina, Virgina, Maryland, Delaware, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, New York and the remainder of all New England States.

The farmhouse is symbolic for the amount of power someone has on the farm, and it also governs the relationships between the leaders and the citizens. Throughout the novel, anyone who lived in the farmhouse, ran the farm: first it was Mr. Jones, then it was the pigs. This quote showcases to the reader that the greater authority is centered in the farmhouse. Being secluded from the other animals gives the leaders a sense of superiority because the living quarters in the farmhouse were a lot nicer. The farmhouse is also superior because it is where the pigs break the commandments, alter them, and talk to humans. In the real world, the farmhouse can be compared to the Russian Senate under Joseph Stalin’s control. Although Stalin broke Russian

Rachel Whiteread's “House” from 1993 forces us as the audience to focuses on the feeling and memories of the inside space of a house that we normally forget about, such as the memories or lives that evolves inside them. By using a concrete cast Whiteread is able to creates a solid feeling to this almost abstract space. And by placing this large concrete sculpture in the middle of the redeveloping neighborhood where the house and many others like it once stood automatically creates a connection from this sculpture to lives of the people who once lived inside of it. To analyze this further, this composition makes us remember not just the negative space that’s easily forgotten, but of the poorer neighborhoods similar to the neighborhood where

For those who maybe did not know, Burlington, Vermont is home to an improvisation-based quartet called Phish. In 1983, Phish frontman Trey Anastasio came to the University of Vermont, where he immediately met a percussionist named Jon Fishman. Anastasio and Fishman went on to form a band of four musicians. Within months, they started performing at a multitude local venues, including the storied Nectar’s Bar and Lounge. By the early nineties, Phish’s popularity had skyrocketed. Ever since, the group has become an icon of the Vermont music scene.

Before the drought, the plowed fields were beautiful. The sod, dark brown and rich with moisture lying in neat rows, gave no inclination that one day the land would suffer a drought and the earth would all blow away, abandoning the wheat crops and the farmers who relied on them. The drought came; the land went without a drop of rain for season after season rendering the land a desert. Now in the drought-stricken land, the cramped farmhouse is an isle, surrounded by a sea of rippling dust and dirt. In the kitchen, the sunlight pours in through the shutters; dust and dirt particles visible in the streaks of light appear to cloud the air. The cool pine doors are smooth, almost soft with the years of wear. The

Five miles from the small town of St. Joseph, Michigan in the sloping hills of the beaches lies an ancient, rickety house known as Sunny Hill Cottage. In no sense was it as cheerful as the name implies. The white paint was weathered and peeling in spots, and the windows bore cracked blue shutters. A low moaning sound echoed, perhaps nothing more than the wind blowing down the lopsided chimney. Inside, tropical colors along with spider webs adorned the walls. Outdated furniture filled the five rooms and an aroma of dust permeated the air.

Then we departed on a misty morning and entered on to a sinuous dirt track. After a bumpy ride, we arrived at the antiquated farmhouse. Soon as I step outside, I instantly smelled the summery scent of flowers and a mob of bees humming around the petals. However, the sultry air started to desiccate my skin. Suddenly, I saw an archaic wash-out wooden barn with a discolored metal roof attached on the hillside. Then, Uncle Bob gave me an interminable tour of his hefty farmland. Far beyond the horizon, I saw rows of rice fields which were irrigated from spring water of the neighboring mountains. Also, flocks of chickens freely roamed around the marshland.

The poem “A Northern Suburb” portrays urbanization as the main proponent of the distress that the lower class are facing. One method Davidson uses to communicate this message is by surrounding urbanization with feeding imagery. It is urbanization’s “whetted fangs” (5) that “devour” (6) the rural suburb, which portrays its change on society as consuming. The lower class is being viewed as food, which further strengthens this idea of hunger. The poor now live in small houses that are described as “Ovens” (16), “Ice-chests” (15) and “cupboards” (14). These descriptions lead to an idea of the community as food living in various parts of a kitchen and with urbanization as the head chef. This consumption imagery leads to a view of the lower class

The sounds of feet puttering against the concrete and heavy breathing echoed on a cold, starry night. As he ran, his dark-brown gaze shifted up to see a sign that read in bold “GAMECOCK VILLAGE,” it’s iron neither rusted from the rain nor bleached in the sun. Running into the area, he made his way to a tree and stopped, taking time to breathe again. While listening out for the people who claimed to be his “family,” he took in his surroundings. Each apartment was three stories high, bricks built the lower half and the rest by what seemed to be wood. For each story, three windows accompanied it, and each complex was not as close together as the apartment the people held him in was. Recognizing where he was at, he bolted and looked for a room “with a light on all the time.”

The village was ravaged. From the towering trees that engulfed it, to the simple houses that lived in the midst. Destruction left no soul alive, or so it thought…

We fought like siblings, my mother said. We fought like sissies, my uncle said. We fought like the goddamn Irish, my papa yelled. And we did, my cousins and I fought enough to have scrambled eggs for brains. But we always stopped when the loser started to bleed.

Its walls were once painted in white and blue. Yellow light is coming from some of its windows. In the center of the courtyard, somebody has placed a children’s playground with a faded orange plastic slide, a red brick transformer booth, and several dirty-green garbage containers. Between the house walls and the yard, cars are densely parked. In front of each entrance, there is a shabby blue wooden bench and a purple-bluish concrete litter bins. Each entrance has a blind rusty metal door. Everything in the yard and the house itself is covered by a thin layer of dust and dirt. At the shopping center nearby you can buy potatoes, beer, vodka, a blouse, a bra, a glue, slippers, a towel, a garden figurine, a wiping cloth, a flat-head screwdriver, a cross-head screwdriver, cigarettes, boots, an umbrella, a bathroom curtain, a puzzle, buckwheat, and so on. It’s a late night or an early morning now. A dog is barking. It's