Thursday, January 9, 2020

The Backyard Of My Father s Rickety House Essay - 1238 Words

There used to be a small town in the backyard of my father’s rickety house. It wasn t constructed by carpenters or designed by architects. This primitive village was built by children with overactive imaginations and an abundance of time. In fact, I was the one, who came up with the idea to build it. During the summer of 2010, my two stepsisters and I had exhausted all of our summer activity options. Everyday, we were in the pool or riding our shiny bikes up and down the gravel driveway. Even though I only visited my father for a week at most, I couldn t help, but feel like these activities were becoming repetitive and unenjoyable. Commonly, this would cause anyone to search for something else more interesting to spend their time on. I found that â€Å"something† to be an untouched wooded area on the side of my father’s property. No one usually went near there due to the glass and the creatures living under the leaves. Whenever it would rain, snakes would emerge from those woods to play in the puddles near our house. Needless to say, it took a few years for a group of girls to work up the courage to explore the snake’s natural habitat. Before my step sisters and I started to clear the forest, we had to ask for permission to use our parent’s yard tools. Sadly, I had sent my step sister Kelsey to ask because I was too afraid that my step mother would say â€Å"no†. In short, my step parent was a tall, blond woman in her early twenties, who mostly laid around on the couchShow MoreRelatedDescriptive Essay About My Memories1824 Words   |  8 PagesEven though we only lived in Philadelphia a short while, this is the house where I have the most memories. I remember living right across from the school, the red door, and most importantly the people who lived there and around us. One of my favorite things about living here was that my family was only about a 15-minute drive away. I loved being around them and I even â€Å"ran away† to one of their houses once. Now, I miss out on birthday parties, reunions, and just regular old Sunday dinners after church

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