Tonight I wanted to post another one of my assignments that I was given in college. I’ve been missing home like crazy again lately as its been over 6 months since I’ve laid eyes on all that is old and familiar so I thought this was a fitting post for tonight.


The place where I live

If you drive by today you will see a BC box style house with an addition on it. Two gravel driveways flank the house on either side. Preceding the front of the house is a ditch. Many summers were spent on homemade rafts or wading through the ditch in our bare feet searching for clear jelly sacks full of frog eggs and the frogs that made them.  Beyond the ditch is an expanse of grass that is kept green with sprinklers in the summertime.  A second story sundeck wraps around the right side of the house toward the backyard.  A couple of big trees dot theyard in front and along the right side of the house across the driveway. The big window of our living room is front and center framed in with creamy yellow siding.  It is an eye into a part of our life on a dark night.  On most nights my dad will be in his lazy boy, a glass of his own homemade red wine in his hand.  My mother will be reading her book.  Perhaps my brother or I are with them in the living room, perhaps not.  During any time of the day you can always make out the numerous flowering plants that my mother has lined up on the window sill for as long as I can remember.  On the far right side of our house, rows of my dad’s grapevines grow, protected by trimmed evergreen trees. The vines give our property a sort of romantic look.  A large stained wooden fence, built by my dad, partially blocks your view into the backyard.  If you could see past it you would see a large backyard equipped with a circular trampoline and a fire pit that is well used during evenings in the summer.  Their is so much more to see but what you see is so different from what I see.

When I look at the place where I live I see my family adn the only place I’ve ever lived. I see the memories. I see the house and barns my father built. I see a front yard that I sprinted across many times in search of hiding spot during a game of kick the can. I see the place where I first got stung by a bee. I see the endless hours I spent on the trampoline with my sister and my best friend learnign to do flips and handsprings. I see the shady places under the nut trees where my siblings and I used to sit and eat nuts or complain about having to pick them up.  I see the spot where I first rode a two-wheeler bike.  I see the trees I climbed and snow forts that I’ve built.  I see the spot where I got my first kiss. I see a sundeck where many summer evenings have been spent in great conversation or gazing in awe as the lightening hit the mountains and the thunder rolled ominously above our heads.  The doors on the outside lead into a house that is so full of memories and warmth, of love and laughter, of fights, disagreements, and tears.  If you took a look you would only see couches, carpet, and tidy rooms, You might even be able to look at my house and think about all you could do ith it. You might be able to picture a future but for me it is my past and it is my present.  It is a place taht is deeply embedded inside my soul.


The end.


Some things have changed physically on the property but it remains home. As I re-wrote that assignment I’m pretty sure I thought of a million more things I could say. I was thinking about the time I scribbled my initials in some paint on the underside of the railing by the computer room when my mom and me were painting the dining room yellow one summer. I was thinking about when I was really little and I can remember watching my mom folding laundry at the dining room table with the sun shining in. I’ve always loved the way our yard looked when it would rain really good, the sky would be a combination of dark and light clouds and then a rainbow would appear and the sun would come out and make everything look drenched and sparkly somehow. I was thinking about how familiar it used to be to look at the sight of my Dad walking down the driveway coming  in from the barns, his hat perched on his head. I treasure the memories I have so much and knowing my parents will read this I just want to say thanks for such a great childhood and giving me more then you probably even think you did. Hope to lay eyes on the old familiar soon!