My home is a special place to me. It is not only my happy place‚ but it is also a place where I can also feel other emotions. This house is special to me because it is the first home that my mother and stepfather bought together. Before my stepfather came into my life it was just my mom and I. My mother and I had never lived in a house before. We always lived in either an apartment or a trailer. Moving into a house was something new and exciting for us. I remember standing in the driveway‚ taking
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A late December night Like many other nights; it is late and I am tired‚ leaving the bar after my shift and driving home. It must be close to 4o’clock in the morning now; the roads are covered in snow like a cozy white blanket on a cold black night. I seem to be alone on this two lane highway; my headlights are the only ones shining‚ like two beckons in a lighthouse searching for others in the dark. The roads have just been plowed‚ very little is on the pavement but the snow is falling fast‚ within
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flaky crust in between two tasty sandwich buns and a thick layer of delicious tartar sauce‚ and not to mention the ice cold Coke and over salted French fries. The gym membership I purchased last September which was the only time I went to check the place out has an indoor swimming pool‚ rows of treadmills and elliptical‚ and a huge weightlifting room have left me feeling a bit like a marshmallow and waddling like a penguin when I walk. I have wanted to become an avid reader so I can learn to become
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The United States’ flag which soared high above the building like an eagle overseeing a tundra stands in the heart of this courtyard. Etched in stone on the front wall of the courthouse are the words" Truth‚ Justice‚ and Liberty." This is a place where one should feel truly safe. As I walk inside the cold and quiet building‚ a young woman is talking with the circuit court clerk. She appears with a child-like innocence and a petite figure‚ with blond hair that flowed freely like a lions’ mane
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The most magnificent place I’ve ever been is Puerto Rico. With its breath taking landscapes and the calm serenity of the ocean; Puerto Rico is one of the most relaxing and gorgeous places I’ve ever been. The mixes of several different Latin styles play a huge role in not only the music and dancing of Puerto Rico but‚ also the style of the wardrobe. The best part of Puerto Rico though is the amazing experience and adventures I’ve been on. Puerto Rico has some of the most beautiful landscapes I’ve
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Waterfalls Dunn’s River Waterfalls is one of the best known attractions in Jamaica. Each year‚ thousands of locals and tourists travel to the falls to experience its many pleasures. I enjoyed the waterfall‚ sun‚ food‚ the water activities that took place‚ spending time with family and friends‚ and the local vendors. The water at Dunn’s River Falls was crystal clear‚ fresh‚ and mesmerizing; it was an enchanting event on every visit. The cascading water roared down the layered steps. The water emerged
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green‚ and red bathing suits on and decided to head to the glorious beach. My mom‚ my little sister K.‚ my nephew D.‚ and I all sat in the car and started to drive to a beach. We weren’t sure which one though‚ but we were going to find the perfect place to spend our day. Every single one of us were anxious to cross that bridge that would lead us to where the beaches were. We finally found our perfect to spend the day at‚ I can’t remember the exact name of it‚ but the street it was off of was unique
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Childhood Memories Can Be Positive Reinforcement My favorite childhood place was at my grandparent’s house. My grandparent’s last name was Mountain. Their property had the nick name‚ “The Mountain House‚” I remember wonderful memories of spending time there with my family; eating grandma’s famous potato salad‚ tasting grandpa’s fabulous barbeque ribs‚ and most of all eating those wonderful Mountain family cherries. The sounds and smells are truly alive in my memory. These memories are incredibly
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with a big neon red sign reading Golden Corral. I peered through the back window of my parent’s car looking for an available parking spot‚ but all I could think about at this point was my social anxiety from all the people that must be inside this place. Surprisingly‚ after a few seconds of entering the crowded parking lot we had found a parking spot right at the entrance of Golden Corral. As my mother‚ my father‚ and I walked toward the entrance we noticed two older gentleman standing in front of
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uncomfortably under the customer’s hand. The curtains veiling the front door blew gustily and coughed out a cloud of dust. A large stack of books greeted the keen eyes entering the small crowded shop. It was 8 feet long and had 6 shelves devouring the entire place on the wooden framework. Books sat on the lip of the ledge‚ leaning over as if peering over the end. The torn and tattered exteriors of the fat volumes of paper of every texture imaginable‚ held great literature within their medieval covers. On the
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