The fleeting changes that often accompany seasonal transition are especially exasperated in a child’s mind, most notably when the cool crisp winds of fall signal the summer’s end approaching. The lazy routine I had adopted over several months spent frolicking in the cool blue chlorine soaked waters of my family’s bungalow colony pool gave way to changes far beyond the weather and textbooks. As the surrounding foliage changed in anticipation of colder months, so did my family. My mother’s stomach grew larger as she approached the final days of her pregnancy and in the closing hours of my eight’ summer my mother gently awoke me from the uncomfortable sleep of a long car ride to inform of a wonderful surprise. No longer would we be returning …show more content…
I had violent, grass-stained war games with my neighborhood friends, while my mother worked in her small vegetable garden among the honeybees, and watched things grow. An ever-present warming smell of knishes and hot dogs permeated around every inch of my block as the nearby concession pumped a constant flow of fresh food to hungry little leaguers and their families. Looking up, the summer sky looked like an Easter egg God had dipped in blue dye.
Those warm summer nights after long days of camp were greatly anticipated events back then. My cousin and I itched with repressed energy throughout the long bus ride from various tri-state area attractions. We couldn’t wait to get home and see what types of shenanigans we could get into. We couldn’t wait to slide down the steep, blue-carpeted staircase on our bottoms, and then on our stomachs. Most of all, we couldn’t wait to go down to the basement. The basement was better than a toy store. Yes, the old-fashioned milk chute in the kitchen wall was enchanting, and the laundry chute was fun because it was big enough to throw down my sisters stuffed companions, so my cousin could catch them below in the laundry room, as our voices echoed up and down the chute. But the basement was better than all of these, better even than sliding down those stairs on rug-burned bottoms.
It was always deliciously cool down
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.
It was not often that I had a few hours to slip away and return to that beloved spot under my favorite pair of trees. That day I had packed my hammock, a thermos full of jasmine tea, and the book that had been gathering dust on my shelf for months. I hopped in my car and drove the relaxing forty-seven minute journey (I had narrowed it down to the exact minute since I had driven there so many times). I stepped onto that familiar turf wearing my favorite jacket; it was a little more brisk than most would consider to be the perfect autumn afternoon, but I disagreed. The crisp, dry air was refreshing, cleansing. I needed to clear my head.
Summer is the most fun and exciting time of any child’s life. There is no school, no homework, no uncomfortable uniforms, and most importantly no bedtime; but when summer comes to an end every heart breaks and we beg for summer back. In Alice Walker’s “The Flowers” Walker ends her work with the sentence “and the summer was over,” which symbolizes Myop’s childhood as the summer. This short, yet impactful sentence explains how Myop’s once happy childhood is now only a memory she’ll reminisce over and find herself begging to get back.
“Crunch, Crunch!” I heard, as I was tip-toeing like a mouse. My warm heart was thumping rapidly. As I turned the corner I --- “Boo!” My cousin James yelped. I will never let go of day when my family and I got lost in a colossal maze, because of the frightening things we saw and thought about.
Mother loved watching the tree as the rays of the sun would shine through the leaves, giving the world a warm, green glow. It was even more beautiful when it would slowly turn orange and red in the fall and tumble to the ground where a little girl with long brown braids and jean overalls and her mother would rake them up in piles and spend hours laughing and playing. Squirrels darted to and from the hordes of acorns they collected from the trees in the yard, and woodpeckers hammered at old oaks in the woods. When spring came around the yard was a beautiful home to many new baby animals. And spring was a great time for picnics. Mom ‘s heart was stirred as she recollected all the picnics she had shared with her family under
Brad Miller and I recently bought our very first home in Longmont, CO and our mortgage is through Premier/Cherry Creek. We worked with Alicia Alpenfels and I wanted to send an email letting you know how impressed we were with her. She had worked with us over two years ago when we almost bought a condo through the Boulder Affordable Housing program but the transaction fell through due to changes in our situation. When we were in a place to try and buy a home again last year there was no question that we wanted to work with her again. She was extremely kind, and dedicated to helping us get a home. We had numerous offers we put in and she always got our pre-approval letters to us when we needed them. A large part of the reason why the process
You use check lists for lots of things in life – for groceries, for homework, for chores, and in the case of my family it was for life. It was my parents’ way of keeping me safe. “Go down the list” or “Follow the plan” were common phrases in my home growing up. Post 9/11, it was the way to keep our family safe. The racism, the persecution, and the vehement looks were something that continue to plague my memories, but what truly resonates the most was the uneasy feeling I had growing up in the US. Knowing that I was not wanted nor was I welcomed in this country made me especially fearful and despondent growing up. In order to combat this, my parents explained the check list. If you stayed on track, and continued to check things off nothing could ever hurt or harm you. I am unsure if it was for my benefit or for theirs as well, but it kept us safe and gave us peace of mind.
The screams and giggles of joy from us are still audible, although their volumes have been dampened by the soft fabric of our scarves. We played and romped until we couldn’t feel our fingers and we had to trudge inside, catching a final glimpse of the trees, naked and brooding after being stripped by the lacerating winds. Once ridden of our sodden and damp winter gear, we rushed inside to gulp down a steamy cup of hot chocolate, complete with a few marshmallows on the top melting into the frothy, brown liquid. Those nights, we went to bed with warm hearts and
In a world of noise, there are yet many who have no voice, whose cries go unheard. The world looks at them from afar, rarely embracing them. As for me, actually seeing, touching, and living among those with no voice, so near my childhood home, marked an awakening in me that transitioned my idyllic childhood to adulthood.
I, Adnan Sabbag, laid trembling in the safety of my bed on the second floor of my family's small Boston house. My father, Nizar, sat next to me, stroking me in a failed attempt to calm my fears. I have seen many things in my life. Syria. War. Turkey. The United States. And today, a hurricane.
One burning hot summer day, Brianna, my sister, and I decided we should go play outside as usual but that day felt different. I knew that day would be different from the other blasting hot summer days. I slipped into my gray and salmon colored sandals and hopped outside.
Home is the place one spends more time in their life and share special moments with family. Where one expects to live permanently carefree and feel protected under the roof of their house. One day I want to have a home that makes me feel well and where I can be safe and happy. The purpose of this essay is to illustrate the decisions I made about designing my future dream house.
One place that I see every day but don’t put much attention to is my house. The house that I live in is near by a park and a gas station. My house is small and cozy is made of steel frames, the anterior part of the house has a beige and pink color that combine a beautiful shade. The inside of my house has many portraits of family members and drawings. I have a total of two bathrooms and four rooms a kitchen and two living rooms. We have a living room that’s used for grown-ups and the other one is used for the children. The kitchen table and chairs are made of wood, in the ceiling there is big chandelier. The walls of my house are painted in different colors that are green, beige and pink. I like that every room has its own different color, it’s not boring it brings life and shade.
We are moving once again. The new place is barely down the street, but we have to move again. This is the fifth time in six years that I have moved from one apartment to another. Im glad we are finally moving out of the old apartment, because the guy below us constantly banged on his ceiling when I walked from one room to another. Its been awhile since I have had a place to call home, a place I can grow fond of. I have hope that one day we will live in a house and not have to worry about cranky neighbors or stairs to climb before I reach my front door.
I was making some Tea and all of a sudden I hear someone outside so I move from where i'm making the tea and I peek through the window and I see a nice young good looking boy about the right age and I am making sure he is good to work with. I am waiting for him to knock on my door but real quick I make sure everything is just right. I run upstairs and check that all the bedrooms are closed except the perfect one for him so I make the bed and make it look neat then I check out the window and I see him he is stepping up so I think why not just open the door so I do.