Descriptive Portrait: My Grandmother When I picture my grandmother‚ I envision shiny grey hair‚ bright blue eyes‚ and the softest hands I have every felt. She is 94 years old and has 12 children. Virginia Irene Dill has raised many children‚ and that makes her the strongest person I know. When I walk through the door of her 75 year old home‚ I think of all the pain and joy my grandmother went through there. After so many years‚ our time together was not quite the same as it used to be since ten
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to my expectation. The more I expect the more I loses hope. From the first time I move into the dormitory‚ I get limit and be eager to move out. My life in the dormitory is just like a nightmare. Before 8:10 a.m.‚ the first class in the morning‚ I had already felt powerless due to the dormitory rules. In the bright new day‚ I used to jog a couple hours to stat my day. However‚ this hobby had been stop because of the dormitory was not able to open the door before 6:00 a.m. I could understand
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cousins‚ relatives we don’t even know of; we call each other weird names like Pollo‚ Prieto‚ and Gordo; but mainly‚ we always find a reason to get drunk. Whether it be for a baptism‚ a wedding‚ a child’s birthday‚ parties don’t end until three in the morning. When my family gets together‚ either it ends either terribly or with rancheras playing and my drunk uncles doing the Mexican grito. For my cousin’s quinceañera my family decided to go all out‚ since it would be the first of many quinceañera’s my
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branches and get tugged on by thorny vines. The untrailed path I forge to the top of this mountain is steep and difficult‚ but worth the work to be a new explorer on the fresh‚ dewridden ground of this lonely mountain on this brisk morning. The trek up this hill is not easy‚ thorny blackberry bushes and fallen trees impede progress. Slightly evening out now‚ the ground is painted with large and misshapen boulders slightly crystallized with eversothin
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Monday Morning Leadership The three most important parts of this book to me where: 1.) “Be A Driver-Until you accept total responsibility- no matter what- you will not be able to put plans in place to accomplish your goals” (p. 25). I never really thought about being a driver and not a passenger being compared to accomplishing your goals‚ but I can really see how the two would be compared. It makes sense‚ the passenger is usually looking out the window‚ playing their phones‚ and being distract
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privilege to select their preferred courses with the relevant time that they wish to have. However; The existence of evening classes is unavailable‚ which builds a major issue that encounters several obstacles. There is a huge difference between having morning classes and evening
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It was a typical spring day; flowers stand tall‚ soaking in the sun’s warm rays as they swing in the gentle yet crisp breeze. A song composed of chirping birds slightly overpower the sound of traffic as it is still early in the morning. Macy Jones awoke after a well rested night. Her facial expressions indicate happiness however‚ a way of reality hit‚ quickly transforming the slight smile into a deep frown. Macy Jones is not pretty‚ nor does she feel loved. She often wished her dull brown hair be
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Tips for Drafting an Essay ( The Narrative/Descriptive Essay) 1. Begin brainstorming‚ clustering‚ and/or free writing to help you find or narrow a topic. 2. I actually like a free writing because I like to see words on a page. This is the actual beginning of a draft. Use free writing to help you figure out how much you have to say about your topic. Feel free to take parts of the free writing and elaborate on parts of your story. a. Example: if you are writing a physical story (racing in a car
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for a few scorching hours before nap time. These minor moments in my existence remain most worthwhile. For somebody on the outside looking in these might not appear like much more than just awaking‚ nourishing‚ and training my canines over my morning cup of coffee. On the other hand when you are the individual experiencing it‚ these remedial responsibilities can appear like so much
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and listened to the cold rain drops beat against my window and the blustery wind whistling outside. I was so sleepy that every yawn made my eyes fill with tears‚ but I was determined to wait up for Santa this year. Peering through my window‚ the morning sun began to rise‚ I jumped up remembering my parents saying that I had been especially good that year. I ran and leaped on my parent’s bed and shook them both so hard. I was so anxious to see what Santa had brought but it seemed like the clock
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