Descriptive Essay On The House

I am reporter Jacob Busby and today is a a monumental day in the world of sports. Today is Sunday, February third 2013, also known as Superbowl XLVII. The New Orleans Super dome is filled with purple and red jerseys ready to support the Baltimore ravens and the San Francisco 49ers. I am ready for some football.

Driving to Long Prairie, on the right side of the road, up a hill with a long, paved driveway will be a house to the left. This house is two-stories with a basement. The first time I saw it, the house had a worn out, light tan vinyl siding with faded, dark red shutters from years of Minnesota weather. At the end of the driveway was a garage that resembled the houses color. To the right of the driveway was a large stone wall that was overrun with wild grape vines. In the middle of the wall was a stairway that leads to an old, rundown playhouse. Also, there was a large, gray brick shed further away. Beyond the house are the woods, littered with pine needles from the rows of trees my grandpa planted when he moved there. The whole area is surrounded by the overpowering smell of pine, and the silence the woods carries; it brings a calming, peaceful sensation to me. As the years have gone on, the house and I have aged, grown, and changed together.

When we stepped in it became darker and altogether quieter, except for the rustle of squirrels and calls of birds. Walking along, I saw little chipmunks run by, and I wondered if this neighborhood sized piece of forest was the size of a city to them. A few minutes later, we got to a bridge that goes over a small creek. Judging by the size of the creek walls, I could tell that the creek used to be the width of a medium sized river at one point. Not only that, but parts of soil that had once contained tree roots had been washed away, leaving the half a tree’s roots hanging over the creek.

Birth control has been legal in the US since 1972. It is, for the most part, easily accessible to American women currently. Such accessibility is not the case in third world countries. Despite the United Nations declaring birth control to be a “universal human right”, 222 million women in developing countries remain without Family Planning methods (“ThinkProgress”). Less fortunate countries have difficulty providing birth control because of costs and social disapproval. Even in countries with limited access to birth control, women choose not to use it due to misconceptions stemmed from lack of education. However, all women deserve access to birth control no matter what country they reside in. Not only could it benefit women’s health, but it could save lives.

Another issue I have to reflect on is tax deductions on mortgage interest rates. I think such a deduction would hinder the benefits of owning a home. If tax deduction on mortgage interest was to be removed then the after-tax cost would increase which would reduce housing prices.  The removal of such a tax might entice me to buy a bigger home and then borrow beyond my means. This tax cut could discourage me from becoming a homeowner as well. As I mentioned earlier in this paper, incentives may encourage me to reevaluate my decisions. When a government offers tax credits it can be considered a benefit that will out-weigh the cost.

Once there was a man named Jordan was looking for a big house to move in. He wants move in a big house so he can live in the house with his five dogs. The dogs are all boy dogs. There names are Jojo, Max, Toby, Mike, and coco. So he looks very good so he can move in the perfect house, and he did find the perfect house. But as perfect the house looks he doesn’t know what other bad things are coming his way. He is so happy to move in this perfect house with an amazing view and a big backyard so his dogs can run all they want. But also there is a creepy forest where no one can hear you scream for your life. Jordan does have neighbors but they are miles away. He liked that because he could have his own privacy and a big place to

Thus, components like a mast or bridge girder can be analysed more comprehensively with compartively with lesser degrees of freedom.

flower print shirts with black dress pants. She has hair that is as thick as a mop but yet still black and silky, with beautiful hazel brown eyes.

All five of us kids stand impatiently, surrounding the dirty, white side door attached to the garage of Grandma and Grandpa Pinegar’s home in Orem, Utah. An automatic lock is screwed to the door. We all take turns punching in the code into the lock. The buttons have an orange glow to them, but is only visible in the dark. Little black numbers were once printed on the circular buttons, but have now peeled away as a result of the constant rubbing and pressing on them. The door has always been a pain to get open. The lock constantly jams itself, which requires the code to be entered multiple times. As we sit and wait for Mom to open the door, I admire the familiar place. Grandma and Grandpa’s three story house is layered in red, rough bricks. Five white columns hold up a lengthy carpeted deck, as well as the extended roof. Windows can be seen in all stories of the house, giving the house a wide open feel. The neatly cut grass, planted in the front lawn, is parted by a sidewalk that leads up to a couple of stairs and then to a dark brown door. A flagpole is surrounded by a flower bed in the front lawn. Our handprints mark the cement where the flagpole stands. Finally, Mom gets the door unlocked, it groans - sounding like an old blowhorn - as rusty gears turn inside to unfasten. Sara, my younger sister, takes hold of the scratched up metal doorknob, twists it to the side, pushes the door open, and runs in. Leading the rest of us with her.

It was a fresh afternoon when I accompanied my best friend to visit my grandparents in countryside – Ben Tre, where is well-known as a tranquil place. Those days, I live with my beloved cousin; she was a girl of tender-hearted, tolerant and lenient aspects. At her will, she ushered me and my friend to observe how developed our countryside is.

Arkansas, Only about a hour, maybe two hours long drive away from home. Over the course of the day we meet new and different people, eat good food, and give gifts. Everyone is overly affectionate and helps out in the kitchen. Squeezing around twenty people in the tiny house is a tight smoosh, even if our family is almost half of that group. The house itself may not be that tiny but we’re all gathered in just the kitchen and living room, making it seem like a smaller space. At times, a few people stroll out the glass door, onto the patio and into the back yard, yet even then it feels just a tad crowded, especially since we were around people we’d never met. From long road trips to the ice cream punch to eating way too many rice krispie treats in one sitting, every part of that day went smoothly, giving off a joyful, pleasant vibe. Joyful is a great feeling to have around Christmas time. The best part? It was all captured in one sweet picture.

Many newlyweds usually buy a house or pay to have one built so they can start having children immediately. These houses often contain multiple floors that often contain a final floor called a basement. The many uses of a basement include a bedroom for members of the family, an area to have family time, or a man cave. The Meyer family built a house before the turn of the century a couple minutes away from Main Street St. Charles. The house contained a lower level basement that has proven extremely useful and important to me during my lifetime. From times doing homework to the meals I took down there to consume, the Meyer basement has been a focal point in my life. The five senses are vital to help describe my basement as can be seen by the setup of the few pieces of furniture, the taste of the numerous meals I have delighted myself with, in addition to the many sounds protruding from multiple devices.

When I was walking home from school I saw a house. This was no ordinary house I said to my friend. He agreed because the house was so eerie. When we walked by it something moved and a box fell. When we saw that, we booked it and ran down the street to my house. When we got inside we decided to go have a look inside. When we asked my mom if we could she said NO. We were still planning on going inside anyways. So the next day we are going to go inside and stay the night there. We told my mom that I was staying the Night at Hunters house. Hunter told his Dad that he was staying the night at my house.

The back door of the moving truck slammed shut, making me slightly jump gasping in surprise. I turned in my seat and look at the house, I've lived my whole life in. Gloomily I stare remembering all the happy and sad times I've had here.

The nipping cold hits my face as I stroll through the woods looking for the cabin that I grew up in. When I trudge through the crunchy snow it makes a sound like it is October with the crisp fallen leaves underneath my feet. Up ahead I soon spot the cabin made out of walnut wood. It looks so magnificent sitting up on top of the hill with the sun beaming its glistening rays from behind on each side. As I enter through the wooden gate surrounding the house I recall all the memories of Christmases before that were made in this house. I remember the good smells and sounds from years past and hope that they come back this year.