Descriptive Essay On The Window In The 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.

The year was 1194. Flames licked the side of the cathedral at Chartres. The famous pilgrimage sight had seen destruction before, and was built and rebuilt several times over, however most times the destruction left a skeleton that could be used as a foundation for the new cathedral. By the time the flames had died down the only thing that remained was the western façade, and a scrap of cloth, said to been worn by the Virgin Mary when she gave birth to Christ. After The fire, work was immediately started on the construction of another cathedral, built in a more daring and modern style than the last. . The west façade would remain, as it was clearly heavens will, the rest of the cathedral

Out in the living room, mom washed over the browns with a tan coating up to the vaulted peak. Down in the basement, the oranges and reds to mark my room as well as the game room with the old television salvaged for the Wii mom painted plain with the color of dry bones. Buyers told us the colors which told our story were too bold.

When they walked through the doors of the haunted house in the graveyard, it had an instantly spooky aroma. The door itself was wooden and starting to rot away and fall from its hinges, although that kind of describes the whole house, falling apart. To the right there was a small staircase with ten or eleven steps leading upstairs and a doorway below them leading downstairs. There was old furniture scattered across the old house but it was all ripped up or broken. To the left of the room was a locked door that was still in perfect condition and was reinforced very well. Despite the attempts of two of the four members of their group of four teenagers, the door remained locked and closed. Going straight through the arch in front of them led to the dining room which is where the bad things began.

Though abandoned, the house was still appealing. It never looked like a haunted house, yet it turns out it was. The once worn out furniture has since been replaced with brand new chairs showing a more modern style. My mom saw the wallpaper and fell in love. She always said it was a cute yet mysterious work of art that pulled the house together. Now I know that the wallpaper was mysterious. Day in and day out, my family worked on our new house until it was in “tip top” shape (as my mom always said). Never once did we have any suspicion of having evil birds trapped in our wall. Not until the fiftieth anniversary of their master’s death for their curse had been

I have grown up a few miles outside of Ottawa KS. there is a population of about 12,000 in town. Though my hometown is small it has one of the oldest continuously running theater called “Plaza Cinema” opened in 1905 (It plays the movies too loud, least for me). There also some rather nice antique shops downtown the one called the “Front Porch” is my favorite.

I went back inside, and I went into my sister’s room to get my bb gun out of her closet. When I looked up I saw a little opening in the roof. I went up there to see if I could find anything cool. When I got in there I noticed a glimmer on the other side. I went over there I noticed that there was, what looked like, a little boarded up window leading to the outside. Though in the two years of me being here I never notice anything such

In the dolls house Nora one of the main characters makes her life miserable by decepting all she knew. Nora makes a crime in which she forges her fathers singinture, lies to her husband Helmer, and betrayed her children. In the end, Nora decides to leave her home and escape from everything to find her true self.

On August 27, 2005, my family left St. Bernard Parish to head to Baton Rouge. The windows

My family and I had just taken the four hour journey from Fayetteville, North Carolina to Fredericksburg, Virginia. I was very excited to see my new home but, my excitement had soon faltered when I finally saw it. It was a medium sized house with yellow aluminum siding, blue shutters, a two-car garage and eleven windows. The only thing that made it different from the rest of the houses that lined the street was its full porch and its color other than that it was completely identical

Another issue I have to reflect on is tax deductions on mortgage interest rates. I think such a deduction would hinder the benefits of owning a home. If tax deduction on mortgage interest was to be removed then the after-tax cost would increase which would reduce housing prices.  The removal of such a tax might entice me to buy a bigger home and then borrow beyond my means. This tax cut could discourage me from becoming a homeowner as well. As I mentioned earlier in this paper, incentives may encourage me to reevaluate my decisions. When a government offers tax credits it can be considered a benefit that will out-weigh the cost.

“Another Patient Jumped Out Of the Window.” I put down the newspaper and uneasily glanced at the patient resting by my side for whose comfort I was responsible. It was the winter of my junior year, my second week working in a state-controlled Chinese hospital. On the first day, without going through any training, I met Yuping, a sixty-year old pancreas cancer victim and also a mother of six. Estranged from her family due to high medical expenditure, none of her children had shown up in days; I filled their roles. I fed her, took her out for some fresh air and tried to chat with her, but she rarely talked. She spent her time staring at the plain ceiling and listening the anxious voices from the hallway. Sitting at her bedside and thinking about that disturbing news headline, I began to experience a sense of desperation. I was sickened by the emotional neglect that Yuping experienced, but no matter how I tried, I could not reach into the heart of this suffering lady. This was the dark side of medicine that I had never seen before. Right then, I questioned myself, ”Do I really want to be a doctor?”

Driving to Long Prairie, on the right side of the road, up a hill with a long, paved driveway will be a house to the left. This house is two-stories with a basement. The first time I saw it, the house had a worn out, light tan vinyl siding with faded, dark red shutters from years of Minnesota weather. At the end of the driveway was a garage that resembled the houses color. To the right of the driveway was a large stone wall that was overrun with wild grape vines. In the middle of the wall was a stairway that leads to an old, rundown playhouse. Also, there was a large, gray brick shed further away. Beyond the house are the woods, littered with pine needles from the rows of trees my grandpa planted when he moved there. The whole area is surrounded by the overpowering smell of pine, and the silence the woods carries; it brings a calming, peaceful sensation to me. As the years have gone on, the house and I have aged, grown, and changed together.

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.

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.