Descriptive Essay On My New 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 one 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.

In my lifetime, I have lived in 4 different homes. None of them can even compare to the very first home I lived in, in my hometown of Allentown, Pennsylvania. It was a quaint duplex home that was on a tranquil street underneath a towering maple tree. Nothing will ever be able to replace its permanent spot in my heart.

At the age of 4 or 5 we moved down the road from my grandmother, in a nice 2 bedroom brick house, one bath, where I am currently living now. It was only my mom, dad & I living there for about 10 years, then my mom ended up getting pregnant & had another child. It caused the house to become a little cramped up as my sister got older. More

In conclusion, the story “Neighbors” is a well written piece of fiction that gives a look into the minds of some of the everyday people you may know. The Millers shared a common thought that was on the weird side of things, “maybe they won’t come back, she said. He opened his arms and she moved into them.”(73) The reality check is when they can’t get back in to either apartment and they just have each other, which is all that really matters in

This house was the best as a child it had a long drive way and big field of green grass and cows. I grew a big connection to my childhood house like roots to a tree. It was a little down the road from Mt.Peak and I would always going hiking because it was enjoying for me to be with nature. I remember elementary school and seeing the same faces in some of my classes tell this day. I met my best friend in kindergarten and I’m still really good friends. Growing up in a small town there was always the same faces and same people working at the local grocery store, it takes around a minute to walk through town, most of the time you can take a bike to your friend’s house, walking to school wasn’t that hard because it’s not far and of course the same old smell of

Hearing this, my parents came and spent time with the neighbors, slowly getting used to our new friends. They instantly became friends with our families and made

This is my neighborhood memoir, I'm going to be telling you about stories and times from my life that occured at my home, I hope you enjoy.

Neighbors, is a short story written by the poet and writer Raymond Carver; it made its first appearance in 1971 and it was published in the collection “Will You Please Be Quiet, Please? This delightful story is in brief about a married couple. Bill Miller, a bookkeeper and Arlene Miller, a secretary who was always engaged with her work. In this reading the author Raymond Carver offers to all his readers a moral lesson. With an indescribable and clear technique, he compares the lifestyle of the Millers and the Stones, a couple that was always traveling and enjoying their marriage.

The summer going into 8th, it was both a joyful and unhappy summer. Unfortunately, my grandpa died in at the very end of my 7th grade year, only a few days before school got out. My grandma and grandpa lived in a large house in Spring Lake only a few blocks away from the beach, and when my grandpa passed it was just my grandma living there by herself. Coincidentally, my neighbors who lived right behind us were selling their house and moving to South Carolina. We talked to my neighbors before anyone else looked at the house because we knew that the situation could not be more perfect. Our neighbors were friendly but we were never really that close to them because they were older and quiet, but we knew that the house would be a perfect spot for my grandma to live so we can help her out. Our family knew that our grandma needed out help and she did not want to live alone, this move was great for everyone. It was settled and in about a month my grandma would be my new neighbor.

Initially, we wandered around inside the house for a while, talking with our numerous other family members. Eventually, we made it outside to the backyard that was decorated nicely and there were people buzzing everywhere. Soon, we stepped outside and

So we arrived to the house. The house was old enough to tell that it was not expensive,by the way the house had overgrown vines and weeds climbing up the side of the it. My father told my four older brothers to help him unpack the furniture, he told my sisters and I to go inside and pick out our rooms. My twelve year old sister picked the room right next to mine and my sixteen year old sister picked the one that faced the street.

Mom and I had moved six blocks away from the house I grew up in. By the time we had fully moved into the rental house. While living there my brother ended up moving back in with us due to a break up as well.

When I was young, around 4 years old, I moved into a small house with my mother and father. This house wasn’t anything special but it was home. It had a small yard that was surrounded with a white fence on one side and the back, then the garage on the other. If you looked at the area from above you will see 4 squares combined to create a larger square with the house in the bottom left, yard in the top left, garage in the top right and driveway in the bottom right. Part of the yard was taken up with a small deck and a little play set with swings and monkey bars. I loved the monkey bars they were my favorite thing to play on. The house itself was only one floor with a basement that I have no memory of. Maybe it was off limits, maybe it was dangerous,

After the family reunion, we drove back to our new duplex apartment. Now the unpacking days had begun. Our little duplex had three rooms which were all connected by the hallway; my sister and I got the bigger of the rooms that was not the master. My little brother got the tiny room while my parents got the masters bedroom with a bathroom. The living room was fairly big, that is, till all of our furniture filled the room. The kitchen was connected to the living room and also the dining room. Along with rest of the apartment, the kitchen was also small with a sink, refrigerator, cabinets, and pantry on one side then the stove, counter, and small closet which stored the washer and dryer. The neighborhood was in a small rural town next to a ball park. One of the things that I had to get used to was seeing and hearing nothing at night, except for trains, compared to the noises of the busy sounds of cars coming to and from the city at the bottom of the hill as well as the brightly lit orange street lamps that flooded into my room at night.

During 5th grade year of 2016, almost once every week my parents would go and look for a house. I would remind them everyday that the house we have is great and there is no need to find another. In that house I have lived there at least eight years, which is most of my life so far. Till this day it has always been my favorite house, and the perfect house. I have made so many memories there it is impossible to count. I loved it.