Descriptive Essay About My House

I would illustrate my mother's as a gorgeous, splendid, delicate, exquisite, delightful, well-educated woman., she gave birth to a delectable young lady , she was the first woman I impression at when I opened my eyes, didn’t get no rest for weeks when I had awakened up at midnight crying, she fed me when I was hungry, she changed my diaper when I had an accident, watched me laugh every time I cultivate at her appearance, she watches when I first began to walk, when I took my first footsteps, she observes when I had my first consultation. She was always there when

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

First of all, my house would be in the woods, away from everyone else. I would also live in a modern looking log cabin. It has always been a dream of mine to live in a log cabin. I also want to live in a modern house, so if you mix the two together, that would just be perfect for me. I think that if you live in the woods, which is secluded from everyone else, with a few friends, life would be perfect. My house would be a two story, modern looking log cabin with lights all around the outside so it would look beautiful at night.

The house that I’ve grew up in is very unique, my parents built it by hand, 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 in it at almost all times to baling hay during the summer months. There is always something going on at The Farm.

The sound of the cuckoo clock saying,"Ticktock, seven-thirty o'clock, time to get up, time to get up, seven-thirty o'clock!" Repeating in my mind. The early morning sun was already well risen, and the spring grass shone like it had its own gentle glow from within. The breeze from the open window felt

Whenever I hear the word home, I immediately think about a small town about an hour northeast of Madison. I was born and raised in this small town and hope to return to or near it after college. Even though I live in Madison now, home to me is Beaver Dam, Wisconsin. My idea about what home is has changed over time due to different life events, such as hard times and going to college to continue my education. The one thing that hasn’t changed though is the place that I consider my home.

I would characterizes my mom as a beautiful, gorgeous, delightful, well-educated women. She gave birth to a stunning young women, she was the first face I recognize when I opened my eyes, she didn’t receive no hibernation for months when I awakened up in the midnights crying, change my diaper, watched as I smile when I cherish at her appearance, she watched when I first began to walk, when I took my firs footsteps, she observe when I had my first dialogue. She was always there when I needed her especially when I will be in the hospitalized. When I was depressed she was always there to accomplish my chuckle. When I needed strength she was the only one I could have a discussion about how I feel with her other than my father. She was an intelligent, appreciate, worship, romantic, considerate, and independent mother who I always

“Ok, your Father is in the living room watching football, and I am required go to work, so see you guys later,” Mom said.

I would describe my mother as a gorgeous, splendid, delicate, exquisite, and delightful, woman. She gave birth to me as a young lady. She was the first person that I saw and in my opinion, she was the best mother in the whole universe .First of all, my mother didn’t get very much sleep when I awakened in the middle of the night crying. Second of all, she changed my diapers whenever I wet myself, and watched me laugh every time that I smiled at her appearances. Third of all, she watched me when I first began to walk. Of course, she was

Thirty minutes later, as my parents were pulling out of the driveway, and I waved bye to them as I jumped up and down. “Bye!” I hollered as they left. “See you soon!”

I would characterize my mother's as a marvelous, gorgeous, splendid, delicate, exquisite, delightful, well-educated woman., she gave birth to adorable young woman, she was the first woman I glimpse at when I opened my eyes, didn’t receive no slumber for weeks when I had awakened up at midnight crying, she changed my diaper, watched me laugh every time I cultivate at her appearance, she watches when I first began to walk, when I took my first footsteps, she observes when I had my first consultation. She was always there when I needed her, especially when I will be in the hospitalized. When I was pessimistic she was always there to accomplish me chuckle. When I needed to recommendation she will be the only one I could have a conference about how I feel with her other than my father. She was a knowledgeable, appreciate, brilliant, romantic, Considerate and well- informed mother who I always appreciate that was on my side, she would accomplish anything for myself and my brother and give us the excellent intelligence that made us the women

Living in a city can make you forget the outside world. You forget about the green grass, the trees, the chirping birds, the animals, and so many other things the world has to offer. We also forget the people who came before us, who did so much for us, who built everything we have today. We’re so busy doing stuff that is unimportant, that we forget about the stuff that is. Getting a house in Connecticut, made me realize all these things. It made me more in touch with nature and history. I got my country house about 8 years ago, and I think it changed me for the better.

When I was young, I would often dream of becoming a crewmate on a seaworthy vessel, battling high, intimidating and ferocious tides. Apart with having the maneuvering ability to go through tight nooks and crannies to explore uncharted waters. Part of this was due to my imagination, but a large influence was given by my house, which seemed like a fine boat itself. Surrounded by unconstructed houses which seemed like unmapped area, and numerous resemblances to pirate ships such as a flag flying off the balcony, my childhood home was the perfect place for a blooming imagination to run wild.

Down the street and around the crescent, by the dented stop sign, the third house on the left, the one with the loose brick by the chimney. The one with the black doors and the black roof and the dark bricks and the windows with a white trim- it looks like a distorted face staring at the empty space ahead. That’s my house. The one with the misshapen, nearly dead tree, that taps and scratches at the window when the wind blows, like a spirit warning me to escape while I still can. That’s my house. The house that gives people the chills when they walk by, the one people cross the street to avoid, and the one little children run by and tell stories about. The feeling we get can only be compared to the feeling we have when we drive by a graveyard. Sadness. Eeriness. Yes, that’s my house.

The street I live on has a lot of houses on it and mine just happens to be one of them. Each house has its own driveway, each unique in its own way. Most of them are paved driveways, but mine happens to be made from hard pack. I can picture the driveway when it was built, still in the same place and still being made of rocks.