My Home Paragraph

There is a place where not far from my hometown, which, since my childhood, still holds the secrets to life. It was a place where we were free. Free to do whatever we wanted to do, say whatever we wanted to say, it was our place, our river. It was a simple place, no paved or asphalt roads for the commotion of busy traffic, no tall buildings to block out the sunlight, no sense of time to feel rushed or anxious, no effects from the outside world. It was a beach on the coast of Lake Sakakawea called “Little Egypt.”

In the poem, Home by Pauline Kaldas, upon moving to Boston, the speaker expresses her longing for her hometown. She misses the atmosphere, the crowdedness, and the food that Cairo, her indigenous hometown possesses. The poem conveys that no matter where one goes to, it will never feel as sound and as delightful as home.

Family is defined differently for everyone. Family members can live down the street or in another country. Some people have close knit families while others do not. Similarly, home is also defined differently for everyone. Some people might believe that home is just the house they live in, and with each move comes a new home. Others, however, believe that home is where their family is. People use family as a way to define home in slightly different ways. For example, in her essay “On Going Home,” Joan Didion writes about wanting to give her daughter “home” for her birthday. Didion describes her home as being where her family is. In his essay, “Coming Home Again,” Chang-Rae Lee uses his mother as a way of defining his home. In the third

Outside the kitchen door, blooming wildflowers circle a mini pond where several birds drink from the lap of a stone Buddha. In the rear of the yard, secluded by a lush willow tree, is the guest house. He opens the door and we walk inside. Where, right off, the sight of lavender flowers in a vase on the night table and their scent please me. As does the bright and spacious room with a skylight right above the wood framed bed.

As a child, our home was a place anyone was welcomed in, thus as the saying goes, “Mi casa es su casa.” While my parents were married, we lived in a one story blue colored house with 3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, 3 living rooms, 1 dining room, an attic, garage, porch, pool and backyard. Upon entry into the house from the front door you stared into a long hallway. Immediately to the left was 1 of 3 living rooms, where we occasionally ate Dominos thin crust pizza in the late hours of the day and watched TV and movies as a family. We had a 7-piece oak entertainment center with a built in aquarium, where we kept Ceaser our

“There’s no place like home.” That is exactly what Diane Ackerman wants you to remember about her essay, The Round Walls of Home. Through many arguments, tones, and rhetorical strategies Diane Ackerman’s essay is about how our five senses can help us remember different events that have happened in our past. Historical Context and Author Information This essay is out of Diane Ackerman’s book A Natural History of the Senses written in 1990.

‘’subrban area where grass and trees simu late the country.This dream home is a permanet seat,not rented but owened.It is a center where a man and his wife grow graciously old,warmed by the radiance of well-washed children and grandchildren.’’

Analysis The author paints a picture in the readers’ mind of a nice and beautiful day in the village. Seeing this beautiful setting might cause to reader to expect happy and exciting events to follow.

“What if I don’t like the new house we live in?” I had been living in Taiwan for all my life. My old way of life would soon change. I could still remember the house moving to that new country, America. When I got here, I noticed the flowers, fresh and vibrant, blooming in a distance. I can almost taste the sugary sweet incense in my mouth. I can smell the aroma stemming from the rich atmosphere consisting of beautiful and wild flowers. All the houses had rough roofs compared to all the massive skyscrapers and apartments in Taiwan. The living condition, full of carbon dioxide, is the kind of air quality you get in my hometown. The best part in my homeland, small and dense, is that there tons of people to socialized with. In the neighborhood here, I saw people walking their dogs, playful and energetic, chasing each other. Plain white houses, big and rustic, had narrow and quiet chimneys. The climate, dry and cold, blows down the

This quote from the story “Rikki-Tikki-Tavi” shows that the setting of the story is in India . In the movie, you can see that the family lives in India because of the terrain that surrounds the house and also by the looks of the garden. The family lives in a bungalow which is a one to one and a half story house that has a large front porch. In the movie, you can see the bungalow and how it looks. In both the book and the movie, the family has a large garden in which many animals live (movie). Especially, in the movie, you can see that the bungalow and the surrounding garden are all beautiful and that the family really loves living in such a beautiful place. In the book, the picture of the bungalow shows that it is a beautiful place to live in (Kipling 145). A difference between the setting in the book and the movie is that in the book it describes the garden, around the bungalow, as having flowers and a lot of beautiful trees and flowers. On the other hand, the movie shows that the garden has a lot of bamboo and not many flowers and not a lot of color.

Tranquil gusts kissed my skin; the sweet sensation of a breeze and the rustle of the trees’ leaves sung me a lullaby. As I lie, back to my trampoline and limbs sprawled, my mind would undergo a sort of cleansing, ridding me of my troubles. My home held my childhood; it possessed memories that had accumulated from day one, intertwining and condensing them to forge a place that would bear peace and serenity. I never contemplated departure, even when it was apparent my parents sought for a better place to reside, for no place could replace my home. Alas, my assumptions were proven to be erroneous.

This cottage is my families go to summer vacation spot, and will always remain that way. The cottage is one big story book where we are either adding pages with each trip or discovering new ones with the things we find. The fun we always have here is taken for granted way too often. This place is where I grew up during the summer I have learned an enormous amount of things here that will carry on throughout my life. The family, work, fun, all the things ever done right here in these walls have made the strong connection I have with this cottage. As I grow older I have realized my time here will become limited, but hanging on to these memories I have created will always keep this place alive in my heart. Childhood experiences like the ones I have grown up with make people who they

The homes of Lemont reflect the village’s rich history. In little historic downtown walking through the streets people always admiring houses, which

What is home? If one looks in a dictionary the answer would come out to be, “The place where one lives permanently, especially as a member of a family or household.” However, for anyone who has had an actual home, they would know that such a term goes much beyond its concrete description. It is an impassioned aspect filled with values and foundation of nurturing. A home is not just an abode built to live in; in fact, that is just a definition of a house. Home is a place where one not only feels comfortable, but a place they look forward to opportunely live in every day. A home is built not by bricks or wood, but with the bond of family. A home is a place that reminds a person of countless memories and values when he walks through a

When one thinks about their “home”, they get a comfortable feeling, happiness, tranquility, etc. Now, the feeling that I get when I’m at home is stress, an unknown place, sadness in which causes me to want to escape and live in a fantasy world in my mind. My house isn’t a home to be in or live in at all due to the sour relationship my stepfather has towards me, the confinement and misery, and finally the treatment I receive at home. First, my stepfather and I have a sour relationship due to his fault because he treats me like trash and always talk bad things about me behind my back to my mother or siblings. However, when my mother is home he does not say a word or treat me like dirt but recently my mother has noticed that all he does is talk about me and how I’m no good and he tries to persuade my siblings to hate me. But let’s get one thing straight, even if my siblings resent me which they don’t but if they did, they would know the whole truth about their father and who he really is, for he is the devil. I’m not as a simile, I’m saying it because it is the truth. My stepfather might look like an angel and a person who would seem like they could not hurt a fly but, if he has the chance he will do it behind your back. He made me feel like I lived in hell, in a confinement and misery for he didn’t allow me to text, have friends or even hang out with them. Lastly, he said I couldn’t have a boyfriend and the time he figured I was talking to a guy he went all crazy and