Descriptive Essay About Home

Family is defined differently for everyone. Family members can live down the street or in another country. Some people have close knit families while others do not. Similarly, home is also defined differently for everyone. Some people might believe that home is just the house they live in, and with each move comes a new home. Others, however, believe that home is where their family is. People use family as a way to define home in slightly different ways. For example, in her essay “On Going Home,” Joan Didion writes about wanting to give her daughter “home” for her birthday. Didion describes her home as being where her family is. In his essay, “Coming Home Again,” Chang-Rae Lee uses his mother as a way of defining his home. In the third

Long Island, New York is my birthplace and my home. I’ve lived here my entire existence of 17 years and I am blessed. I grew up in a 4 bedroom home in a town by the name of Williston Park. My home is a two-story colonial with a large front and back yard. The lush green grass and the variety of plants in the front yard make it aesthetically pleasing. The white siding of the home make it really hard to keep clean. The four windows in the front of the home make it look as if the house is smiling when you go towards it. Most of the homes in my neighborhood are similar in size and basic structure. Many of these homes are occupied by older white couples. Although my town isn't as diverse as the neighboring towns I love my neighborhood. Some of my favorite things to do are having casual conversations with my older neighbor John; going to the many baseball or football fields to play with my friends; go to Roosevelt Field Mall, or go to one of the many restaurants we have, or finally go to a place called Bounce, which is an indoor trampoline park. One of the greatest parts about my neighborhood is the sense of community and how we are able to set our differences aside when people we care about are in need. Growing up on Long Island we don't have as much access to public transportation compared to NYC, so I usually asked my parents for rides or was stuck walking miles to my friend’s house, or wherever else I went. Once I reached the age I really had no choice other than to get my

Hello everyone! Welcome to our first meeting for the production of “A Solid Home”. I am very excited about what we can create together and I want us to be able to get started right away. For this production, our guiding concept is going to be “Death can be livelier than life.”

I guess one might call it naivete, but at first, I simply associated home with the single definition of where an individual lived or as something synonymous to an address. As I progressed into high school, and moved yet once again, I realized that was not the case. Now I believe home is an atmosphere created by the people that are surrounding me. I can be anywhere and feel at home as long as I’m with those people. My home is ever changing and developing as new people come in and out of my life. The unforgettable memories and feelings of comfort and love created by the people surrounding me are the cornerstone of my idea of home.

When some people think of home they think of the place they go to after a long day, or the place they sleep at night. There is so much more to make a home a home, home may not even be a place; home may be a person. My home is my family, my mom in particular though. She is a fighter, a great cook and an even better role model.

Family is what makes a house a home; this statement is undeniably precise. A person could have every material entity in the entire world, but it would mean nothing if he does not have someone to share it with. In other words, home is also semantically related to sharing the happiness, grief, and material things with one’s family. A home gives people a place to care about the people that mean the most to them. It is a place to tell amusing tales, a good story, or make memorable memories with one another. Furthermore, home is more than a place; it is a feeling. It is a feeling of contentment and happiness that they share with the ones they love. Moreover, home is when one knows they are with people that can drive them insane in a second, and the same people can make them happy in a second as well. Home means that no matter what one is going through, no matter how challenging life gets, there will be someone looking out for them.

What is home to you? Is it a place? Is it a person? Take a moment and close your eyes to think of what home is. For most people it maybe a house, a person, family, or any special place that is bonded with a memory. Home to me is where I feel and know I am loved, which is in my home, with my family, and my girlfriend, Alexis.

To me, the word home contains different key essentials. The most important aspect of home for me is that it’s wherever the family is. I live with my mom and dad, and my younger brother and sister. Although part of me

To me home is where you go to get away from the crazy outside world. Home is a place where you feel a sense of belonging and familiarity. Home for me is currently here in Derby, Kansas. For almost 19 years now my home has been where my mother lives. My mom makes wherever we stay at feel like home. I feel the love and security I get throughout the house and it 's just the greatest feeling. It is the first house my parents have owned and it makes it that much more special to me. I am blessed I have a place to go when I want to escape the rest of the world.

Child care quality is a well-documented predictor of children's intellectual and social development. Family childcare providers care such as Heaven’s Little Angels in Hopkinsville, KY provide care for children in the provider’s home during traditional working hour. Parents choose family childcare homes because it offers a home-like setting. Childcare homes usually have a mixed age group with a collection of infants, toddlers and preschoolers; therefore, rendering a more family oriented atmosphere opposed to a traditional classroom atmosphere.

Home is like a finished puzzle, so many pieces included, but they all fit together to make a warming scene. My sister’s house has always been home to me no matter where she lived. A place where I feel accepted and unjudged. My nephews are home to me, they fill me with unconditional love and I return the same. A place that is relaxing and all my anxiety suddenly fades away.

Everyone dreams about buying his or her dream house; I lost my dream house, twice. When my girlfriend Izzy and I began house searching, it was a whirlwind of excitement. This was our first hunt in the real estate market, and we were ready to close in on the perfect first house. Suddenly we were staying up into the late hours of the night, cuddled in bed, endlessly searching for houses on Zillow. Throw pillows, dishes and pictures began to jump off the shelves at us in every store we entered. We anxiously imagined every aspect of what we wanted in our house. The rush of chasing down the ideal house and making it our home was thrilling, yet short lived.

I live in the “middle of nowhere.” The neighbor-less neighborhood is where home is for half of the time as the other half I live in an ever-growing college city, Columbia. I have cultivated a special appreciation for each journey home through the winding Missouri back roads that bring me to the place where my soul rests, so matter how many times I make the drive. The roads may take me to my house, but my home exists far beyond its walls.

Anytime I hear the word home, memories and stories that my home has given me begin to race through my head like a runaway train. Home is a place in the world that will no doubt in my mind relate to me at any point in my life. This haven-like dwelling can be described as an overflowing spring with an abundance of love and support. Throughout my life my mother and father have taught me about roots. Roots in a sense is basically your home, or the foundation of your life such as where you come from and how you were brought up. Along with my parents, my home and the things it withholds has had a part in raising me.

Anytime I hear the word home, memories and stories that my home has given me begin to race through my head like a runaway train. Home is a place in the world that will no doubt in my mind relate to me at any point in my life. This haven-like dwelling can be described as an overflowing spring with an abundance of love and support. Throughout my life, my mother and father have taught me about roots. Roots in a sense are basically your home, or the foundation of your life, such as where you come from and how you were brought up. Along with my parents, my home and the things it withholds has had a part in raising me.