Shel's Cabin-Personal Narrative

She sat on the couch watching PBS and indulging in succulent grapes. Flickering across the screen, was an aardvark and his best friend, a bunny, named Buster; some may recognize this description of the amazing show called Arthur and you are the fortunate who have seen it. She was waiting for him to arrive home just like every other night. Her mom was in the kitchen and the smell of chocolate chip cookies wafted from the open kitchen. Where was he?, she wondered, growing impatient like all eight year olds do. Soon car lights broke the darkness of the night and the dog collar was heard running towards the door. He walked in. Her dad always worked late, but when he was finally home, she ran to the man dressed in business attire and was lifted

I made my way to my aunt’s house. Her home smelled of fresh cut pine, and she offered me a cup of coffee with a cinnamon stick in it. I accepted, and we went to the kitchen table and discussed our week. As she talked, I looked out her kitchen table. A small oak grew in the front yard. Snow capped the birdfeeder beside her bird bath.

Embers flew from the campfire, and into the starry night sky; meanwhile, the campers, Jackie, Carl, and Jim, sat close to it for warmth. “Now who's ready for a campfire story?” said Jackie. “You can sometimes go a little overboard, so Carl is taking the wheel.” Carl continued, “Once upon a time” Jim screams, and Carl rolls his eyes at Jim, “May I proceed,” He responds rhetorically. By the time Carl finishes the scary story, Jim has already dashed into the tent, startling his dog, a basset hound named Roxy. Carl along with Jackie look at each other in regretful worry, as they walk towards Jim's tent.

The next morning a young boy woke up startled by his mother shaking him and telling him to get up. She said they were leaving and Ben didn’t know why they were leaving, but he trusted his mother. He got up and followed his parents to where everyone else was standing. Ben wondered why everyone was wanting to leave. He thought about all the fun times he had had there with all of his friends. Running around, playing tag, and swimming

“Jackie, you can sometimes go a little overboard, so Carl is taking the wheel.” Carl continues. “Once upon a time” Jim screams. He rolls his eyes at Jim, “May I proceed,” He responds rhetorically. By the time Carl finishes the scary story, Jim has already dashed into the tent, startling his dog, a basset hound named Roxy. Carl and Jackie look at each other in regretful worry, walking towards Jim's tent. Opening the tents flap reveals Jim smothering his face into his pillow, crying. “Oh, I didn't mean to scare you with my story, Jim” apologized Carl.“It's just a story, Jim, there's nothing to be afraid of.” sneered Jackie, resting her hand on his shoulder. “Jackie! You know I don't like scary stories!” He cried, muffled by his pillow. “Hey, listen Jim, you can't

“Alisha wake up, we are here,” I whispered. When she didn’t wake up, I continued to pester her. “Come on, get up!” When I started to annoy her, she pushed me and told me to go away. As we all cleared out of the minivan, I was greeted by Judy, grandpa’s Scottish terrier. As I was petting her black fur, she was barking and jumping on my legs. When she ran over to Callie to receive a belly rub, I said hi to grandpa and gave him a hug. After getting settled in, my sisters and I decided to go to sleep because it was late and we’d have to help unpack the rest of our belongings in the

I hurried out to take the pup back to the nest, trying not to cause anymore trouble. I took the pup back to the nest and played with his soft fur with he rested in my lap. Time rushed by, and I spent most of my time in the barn with my brown and white pup. I don't think I could ever thank George or Slim enough for the pup. Slim walked in and he said the pup could get hurt if I pet it more, so I went to the bunkhouse. On my way to the bunkhouse, Carlson and I met up, and we entered the bunkhouse together. I went directly to my bed, I was very tired from all the barley bucking I did today. When I went to the bunkhouse, Curley and every man except George, Candy and me left to see a fight. They believed that Curley’s wife was with Slim, but he was in the barn, and she wasn’t in there. I got up from the bunk, and went to sit with George at the table. George brought up Andy Cushman, haven’t heard that name in a long time, but I remember, “his old lady used to make hotcakes”(56). I got distracted and started drumming out a song I heard not so long ago on the table. I really want to move to our own place an’ live offa the fatta the

It was a hot, summer morning in late June when I heard barking outside my door. It was my dog, lucky, trying to wake me up. I got up and went downstairs.

The sun was kissing the horizon; the day was just beginning, and the sweet sounds of the birds morning sound had awakened me. I was sitting in the same spot I do day after day, happy and well rested. I awoke from my peaceful slumber with a large, clanging chime that echoed off the walls and the roof. The sounds of footsteps stomped down the stairs, and there, as always, was Todd. And as he always does, he shuffled his way to the kitchen and turned on the coffee. Finally, as the aroma of burnt coffee grounds filled the air, a new day had begun.

It was an ordinary day in new york, People going to work, birds chirping to indicate that fall had just sprung. A normal tuesday, the sun rising, another ordinary school day at central queens junior high, but not for Robert. Robert had snuck out of school, and he had found out that a couple of his friends were sick. He invited them over and one of his best friends, Alex came over. Robert and Alex played down at the park where they had met up with one of Alex’s friends, Jacob. They hung out until it was time to go back over to Robert 's house, when his new acquaintance Jacob said,

By the time lunch came, we all hiked back to my car to eat the lunches that I packed for everyone. As everyone joked around, I sat back and looked at the scene before me. I realized how fortunate I was to be playing hockey on this beautiful day, with the perfect temperature and the sun being out. After the quick lunch, we all raced back through the crisp air, yelling and cheering. As the sun started setting people started clearing off the ice. Time went on, and the cluster of people around the warm and bright fire increased. Around one of the fires all of my friends and I sat and told stories of the summer. I glanced at the shadows bouncing off of the snow, and then to the clear sky that held thousands of bright stars. During the walk back to my car I could faintly hear the unique sounds of the wolves music bouncing through the air, and smiled. As I got home I thought about the events of the day and knew that I made many memories that I would tell for years to come. I drifted into sleep thinking about the next year and all of the new stories to

It was a beautiful summer day.The sweet smell of sunflowers blooming through our backyard was similar to the smell of honey. There were so many different types of birds and insects flying around me that I never even knew existed. With water balloons flying around my sister and I, we heard a holler from my mom, “Let’s go, we need to go to Costco!” at the sound of my mom’s voice mentioning Costco my sister and I dropped our water balloons, cleaned the mess as fast as we could. We ran inside, as fast as a race car driver, gulping down the glass of milk my mom neatly placed on the table. With white mustaches we stood next my mom’s silver toyota camry, ready to go. As my mom finished the last of the dishes, we strapped on our seat belts over the booster seat and went to our favorite store.

It was a trip I thought would be the same as any other trip, fun and memorable, which Onion Creek was, but it was more, it was a walk into a new culture. Onion creek held an aspect in their lifestyle which my culture was lacking, I discovered my phone wasn’t needed throughout the weekend, only my outspoken personality, because that’s what Onion creek preserved, the love and compassion of one another’s company. This is why I couldn’t make into words what my thoughts were, it was too much to fathom, so I simply came out

The Whiting Homestead in St. Johns, Arizona, has brought our family together for nearly one-hundred years. On July 19th, 1919 a land patent was issued to my great- great grandfather, for one-hundred and sixty acres of land in the White Mountains. He was able to claim this land after three years of walking countless miles from his home, to stay there every night to claim the land. This place has brought me so many cherished memories, and I have always loved everything about going up to the White Mountains and staying in our grandparents’ cabin. We called it the “Brown Cabin,” because it was painted a dull, cocoa brown color. It was a quaint little cabin with a kitchen area, and separated by a door, was a big room where family members would crowd

November 15th was the day. My little brother, Jeff, was craving for some pumpkin pie, and as usual, my parents being biased, forced me to go fetch up some of that mouth-watering pumpkin pie. I really didn’t want to go, but I had to. I forced Jeff to go with me, not knowing the danger I’ll get him into. I took my dog, Mickey, with me so I could feel safe on the street during the night. In the neighborhood I live, when the sun sets, dangerous people lurk the streets.