Katie's Promise: A Rescue Farm For Horses

This is my dream home. The house is a two-story house, made of brick with vinyl siding on the front. It has a large front porch, and a nicely made wooden swing. The front door is a broad door made of wood. The columns on the porch are decorated with stone around the bases. There are lovely flower planters, hanging from the overhang on the porch. In the middle of the porch are two outside chairs with and iron table in between them.

My great grandfather lived in rural Middle Tennessee and was a carpenter and a farmer. He built a house that looks a lot like Rock Spring . He moved from Virginia to Middle Tennessee and his house still stands. It is loved and cared for with the same devotion and respect as Rock Spring Farm. He is buried in the family cemetary not far from his house.

What was once a working family farm is now a 16-acre historic park. In 1899, the Boone family purchased the farm. Over the years, the land served as a homestead, a place to raise livestock (cows, chickens, horses and hogs) and was used to harvest walnuts and grow tomato crops. In 1997, instead of selling the property to developers, owner Ruth Boone gifted the property to the City of San Ramon for use as a municipal park. Today, you can visit the park and get a feel for what rural and agricultural life was once like in the San Ramon

It was January 2013. I suppose I had known this would come. After Dad had started coming home later each night, more exhausted and drained than usual, I began to realize that our current residence might not be as permanent as I had wanted. We had relocated here, to the outskirts of Humboldt, Tennessee, four and a half short years before, to have enough acreage for our horse Clyde to stay at home. Our previous location in the city had not allowed for that, and stable boarding expenses were piling up. In the country, we could go riding any time we wanted, without having to make a long drive to the stables. We began to like this, and fell into a routine. Dad had now had his job for eight years, and I expected everything to stay the same as it had been. I was in for a surprise.

HWH Foundation started out as passion embedded within Veronika’s mind, yet to be transformed into a reality as she observed and assisted her father who was a teacher that taught differently abled children on various occasion at their home. During these various interactions with these children, especially those who were extremely special Veronika slowly began to develop a passion of assisting them. She later became a horse trainer and worked in a circus as equestrian for a number of years travelling to different countries. In 2004, Veronika visited Tobago as a tourist and fell in love with the people on the island and she even met her husband in that same

Since I was five, I have had a passion for horses and interacting with them. When I was younger, my parents gave me an array of dolls and horse figurines to entertain myself. I always used to ignore the dolls and play with horse figurines. Luckily, my older sister loved dolls so she just sneakily stole the dolls away from me one by one while I played with my horse figurines for hours. I have always admired the strength, beauty and power of horses. My interest in horses has caused me to search through websites and books for new ways to connect with them and finally after hours of searching; I finally found my calling.

I was abruptly reminded of early school days when an alarm went off which told everyone to pack up and leave because we were going to be driving another 5 hours to the now abandoned ranch that my great grandfather once owned. It was summer now even though it was colder than it would have been at home in Santa Cruz in the high elevation. We got in the car to find that the windows had frosted over during the night, we resorted to using my parents credit cards to scrape off the frozen water. We pulled out of the hotel parking lot the and continued on our journey North to the place my mom knew like no one else did. As we drove I wondered what it would be like there, according to my mom he spent his life time savings to buy a horse ranch, would it be a giant property with a mansion that should have belonged to a pro athlete, or a rundown house with overgrown gardens and thick woods surrounding it. When we got there I found out that option number two was spot on in that everything was overgrown and untamed. The house was a antique white with modern windows and on other features such as the chimney which was made of clean stainless steel metal. The house was

My childhood home was a gorgeous two story Victorian in the small rural town of LeRoy, Illinois. The 100 year old house had an empty basement cellar and an attic that over time had become home to a family of squirrels each winter. In its early days, the building was split up into two separate apartments. When the back half of the house caught fire in the 1970’s, the building was renovated and made into one home. The yard was vast and cavernous, surrounded by trees that swayed in the wind like a dancer gliding across a stage. A number of these trees were excellent for climbing as a kid. Two sets of french doors led to the family room from the deck where light seeped into the house and through the windows. In the dining room stood

Ever since I was a child I knew that I wanted to work with animals. Horses, in particular, have always fascinated me. After much begging, pleading, years of convincing, and always working hard to save up money, I convinced my parents to allow me to buy a horse. To me, Indie was the most beautiful quarter horse I could have ever dreamed of getting. Since our purchase of Indie, we have acquired another horse, Sherman, and a pony, Tucker. Although the horses have always been hard work, they were worth every sweaty hot summer evening of mucking out the stalls and frigid winter mornings of carrying water to the trough in order to avoid freezing our hoses. After all, I used to dream of being a veterinarian and helping all kinds of animals in some way.

The subject grew up in Laconia, NH which is a suburb and houses are extremely dispersed. The house was a 4 bedroom single family with a lot of yard space for recreational activities. It was painted in yellow with white windows and doors. For his dad, he

My grandparent's house in Italy is also wonderful. They live just twenty minutes away from the town. They live way up on this mountain with only four other houses up there. To get to their house you have to take a windy dirt road while going through a ton of trees. Normally at night instead of deer crossing, there are chinchillas which are basically wild pigs crossing. Their house has two parts to it a guest house and their house. The houses are made of gray stone and covered with green moss. To get to the entrance you have to go through almost like a tunnel of flowers. Inside it is old but also modern at the same time. The original part of the house is over 600 years old. Outside they have a garden full of different vegetables, and five acres of grape vines and olive trees. They also have a rose garden full of beautiful red, pink, and violet roses.

I love historical homes. This past spring, my mom and I went to the Biltmore Estate in Asheville, North Carolina. Normally, I know a fair deal about the building and it's owner before going but the Dunbar house was quite different. I had no knowledge going in other than what I had

The house was bought in tribute to my grandmother that passed away on new years eve in 2003. My uncle had her ashes placed in a memorial and placed in the ocean behind the house. The memorial was situated behind the home to the west, so the sun always set over her. The memorial was tied to a purple buoy with a wreath. On new years eve, every year, we would spread flowers on her ashes. We would talk to her and then celebrate her life in the most relaxing place. My uncle always envisioned a place where everyone could get together and have the time of their lives, and it was a success.

My family and my extended family gather at my grandparent’s house. Since my father’s side of the family, who live in Colorado, considered him to be dead them for marrying my mother, we only visit my mother’s side of the family. They live on a large farm in Vietnam. The house is really old but it still has its own sweet little charm to it. The old building uses to be painted in vibrant eighties colors, such as teal, salmon pink, dark blue and a bit of green, but most of the house is painted with a manila color. It used to have checkerboard tiles covering the all of the floor but it was later replaced with plain, beige ones. The house has a couple of bedrooms, a large kitchen that doubles as the living room and dining room, a large, dusty attic, and lots of dark mahogany furniture. In front of the house,

Our little slice of heaven was bought when I was purchased by my dad when I was 6 years old, and he thought it would be the perfect place to build my mom’s dream house. From magazine cut-outs to episodes of home remodeling shows from TLC, my mom had already planned her beautiful abode. My dad drew the blueprints and hired workers to assist him in the construction, along with my six brothers. Together, as a family, we built a home grander than any that my mom had seen on TLC, one that was tailored to our needs, built on the love of the Osbornes. For five years, that foundation of love thrived, until the night it all came crashing down.