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Descriptive Essay On My House

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There is one thing that is common in most small, rural Southern towns; appliances on the porch. From deep-freezers to washing machines, if there’s not room in the house you can guarantee there is room on the porch and an extension cord long enough to plug it in. No one thinks it’s unusual as everyone in the neighborhood does it. That’s especially true for the humble, one-stop-light town I was brought up in. The house I lived in my entire childhood had a deep-freezer on the back porch; my second cousin, who lived next door, had a wringer washing machine on her front porch. That washing machine would lead to an incident involving a shotgun, scissors, a trip to the ER and a lifetime of jokes.
One beautiful late summer day, I was at my cousin’s house. We were both 10 years-old so we often roamed our countrified neighborhood together. We’d ride bikes up and down the road, explore the woods behind our houses and go swimming in the local swimming hole; affectionately called the Cold Hole by the locals. However, this day, we were at her house enjoying the temperate weather and glasses of chilled sweet tea while waiting for dinnertime.
My cousin’s mom (my first cousin) was in love with this old wringer washing machine. She used it all the time and refused to buy anything newer. We had been cautioned several times to stay away from the wringers, as it could “eat” our fingers or hands. Unlike most 10-year-olds, we listened to this rule. Except for today.
Now I couldn’t tell you what
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