Descriptive Essay About My House

Everyone has a “dream house”, they just rely on your opinions and beliefs. You can have a modern dream house, or maybe a vintage dream house. You can also either live in the woods, in the city, or even right by the beach! You can be by yourself, or you can have lots and lots of roommates. You can have lots of neighbors, or maybe even none at all! You could live off of a mountain, or maybe on a paved street.

It’s a beautiful day in the shelter of New York and there were a lot of people, I said to myself. I was hoping that someone soon will adopt me, then a girl came near me looked at me I wanted to get her attention, so I danced she laughed. She walked away and came back with a big man, who got me out me of the cage put me in a big box I got worried because I couldn’t see anything everything was pitch black.

Any person in the right mind wouldn’t like living the life that I’m living. But I guess I’m not in the right mind, considering I love my life. My mom died when I was five from cancer. I don’t remember her much, but judging from stories my dad told me, she seemed very nice. And from the pictures I’ve seen I know she was beautiful, I’m talking super model looks. She must not have been any kind of model, though or else we would have had a lot more money. In case you didn’t know, I’m Alexa (preferably Alex) and I have cancer as well. Leukemia. I can tell my dad worries about me. If I died he’d be all alone, but I don’t plan on doing that anytime soon. Speaking of,

On a dry hot day in the middle of August, I was awaken to mother’s happy voice saying, “We ‘re here guys!” My excited family and I had just arrived at our two-story brick house at a beautiful resort called “Ding Ding Castle” in Orlando, Florida. My mom, Aunt Wanda, Uncle TJ, cousin Cameron, friend Ronald, Grandmother Doris, Granddad Carlton, sister Kenzie, cousin Kaylan, and I were all planning on staying one long week together. When I got out of the car, I immediately smelled the fresh air and smoke from someone having a barbeque nearby and could taste the fresh grass that had just been finely cut. The bright yellow sun was beaming down on us, making me sweat instantly. I looked around and saw the rows of houses next to each other and noticed that each one had its own personal swimming pool in the back. There were tall palm trees in each yard and every house had new and shiny cars in the driveway. Our house was two stories high and was made of bright red bricks that made it stand out from all of the other houses. The house was surrounded with light green grass and had a porch with dark blue chairs sitting in a row. It was definitely one of the biggest and prettiest houses I had ever seen

The house that I’ve grown up in is very unique, my parents built it by hand. With no help from anyone besides some family and friends. My dad and his ex wife started building it before they got divorced, and there was only 2 floors because then it was only a home for a family of 4. When my mom and dad got married they had to build more onto it because the family of 4 turned into a family of 6. Plus both of my parents would help anyone that needed it, and so they became foster parents. All my siblings and their children call where I live “The Farm” because our house sits on around 450 acres land, that have anywhere from horse and cows grazing on it at almost all times year, to baling hay during the summer months. There is always something going on at The Farm.

Many newlyweds usually buy a house or pay to have one built so they can start having children immediately. These houses often contain multiple floors that often contain a final floor called a basement. The many uses of a basement include a bedroom for members of the family, an area to have family time, or a man cave. The Meyer family built a house before the turn of the century a couple minutes away from Main Street St. Charles. The house contained a lower level basement that has proven extremely useful and important to me during my lifetime. From times doing homework to the meals I took down there to consume, the Meyer basement has been a focal point in my life. The five senses are vital to help describe my basement as can be seen by the setup of the few pieces of furniture, the taste of the numerous meals I have delighted myself with, in addition to the many sounds protruding from multiple devices.

The day was definitely not perfect. The trees stood up tall, but with no leaves. The day was cold, with clouds and no sun. And of course, there was a van, parked in my driveway, waiting for me to hop in and take me to a new home.

“Wow” My mom said, glancing to the side of the road and behind a large grey building. “It seems so barren now.” she said, shifting her eyes back onto the road, her hair fluffing up as she shakes her head. “I can’t believe they’re chopping down so many trees.” sadness bubbled up in her voice as the traffic light turned green and my mom drove the car forward. Looking back, I see the the empty plot of land, a place that used to be packed with trees, trees that had been there for hundreds of years. My head turns back forward, the desolate yard of stumps fading off behind us as we continue on home. The thoughts still roam around in my head. How many trees does it take before they stop? One more? Ten more? A hundred more? Or will the only reason to stop be the extinction of them as a whole?

Ordinarily, traveling to the “middle of nowhere” is just that—going nowhere. However, to me it means the neighbor-less neighborhood, called backcountry. I live in the “middle of nowhere” for half of the time; 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. Though the roads may take me to one of my houses, my home exists far beyond its walls.

When you step into my room, the first thing you will notice is the golden afternoon sunlight fluttering in and dancing around because of the large sycamore trees outside my window. The window is fairly large, as my house is a Cape Cod style home. The reason for the window being so large is that it is one of the primary dormer windows on the second floor that front the street. The window is also set in alcove that is approximately two feet deep, and is framed with white wooden shutters on both sides. I have always been a very optimistic and happy person, and this large window letting in the golden light of nature is a fantastic representation of my personality.

My home, my home sweet home the place where I’m in peace and escape from the busy and crazy world. I moved into this house when I was about 6 or 7 and I have countless of wonderful memories that happened here but also some pretty crummy ones. My house isn't very big, but it isn't small it’s the perfect size for just me and my mom. The walls of my house are close to a vanilla color, but have become a bit dirty over the years and the ceiling of it has some water damage because of the few times it rains here. It’s also very noisy throughout the day and night because of the busy road right behind us. There are so many cars that go by every day and sometimes they wake me up at at the wee hours of the morning. It's usually a massive truck that comes down the road at the same time every night honking it’s horn that trembles and shakes the walls of our house. It’s also a lot of people acting up and speeding or racing down the road. What I really do love about my house is the view we get when you step into the backyard. There's a huge desert and then we have a perfect view of the mountain where the tram is at. I love going out there at night because it's very quiet at times and you can see all the stars and the lights of the city.

According to Dictionary.com, a house is a building in which people live, but a house is not that simple. Each room in a house serves a unique purpose, and that purpose can vary from household to household. A family’s use of their home can shape personalities and form the aspirations of its members. For me, my home is a place where I have made so many memories and built strong relationships with my family.

Clink! Bang! Crash! The my closet is overflowing once again. My small house is maybe a little too small. I walked to the kitchen to get something to eat. I see the kitchen closet is overflowing with pots and pans, again. The kitchen has a polished wooden floor easy to slip on if you're wearing socks. Our kitchen is small, but big enough to put items on the shining counter. I looked out to our backyard, I spot some fluffy looking white bunnies hopping along, eating the carrots I left out for them. I dragged my body down the long hallway to my mother and father's room. I complain, “This house doesn't have enough space!” My parents look at each other with a depressed look and sigh, “ We need to find a new house.”

The first thing I noticed when looking at the house built at the end of the cul-de-sac on Calle Redonda, was it’s large stones. Ninety percent of the house was covered with them. I stood at the beginning of the driveway and  caught sight of little sprouts of weeds bursting through the cracks between each stone. The further I walked up the driveway closer to the garage, the more pink and sparkly toys I passed by. Pieces of pink chalk, size four children's fluffy shoes, sometimes even princess dresses were all left in the driveway. When I reached the garage door I noticed the weathering on the wood from the sunny days of summer. I could distinguish discoloring on the two metal handles on the sides of the garage doors.

On a cold lonely winter night, Jessica's parents were putting her down as always. Jessica had already been depressed due to her best friend dieing in a car wreck a month ago. Jessica's parents had never been proud of her no matter what she had done. Jessica had finally had enough of being criticized, so she decided that tonight was the night that she is going to run away. 2 a.m came slowly and Jessica snuck out of her window with just a few things to help her survive, as well as her painting materials. She then went walking towards the Taiga forest. The Taiga forest was a cold, snowy forest that extends across from Europe, North America, and Asia. The Taiga has wet summers and long cold winters.