My Grandfather 's House For The Weekend Essay

It is the summer of 1970 in Northern Ohio. The Hadley family is the wealthiest family out of all the families that populates the city of Toledo. They all live in a subdivision called Old Timbers Valley with mother, Lydia, father, George, and Peter and Wendy. The Darling family lives in a sky blue house on top of clouds, the Tremaine family lives in the old, enchanted house, and Old Man Geppetto lives in an Old-Italian village home. Unlike the others, the Hadley’s house is future realistic, full of technology. From lights turning on and off as one walks, stoves making food, sinks washing dishes, a nursey that illuminates the children’s imagination, and so many more laborless enhancements. The children’s nursey is called the Veldt, which can

My father worked at the local mill, while my mother stayed home to take care of the four oldest siblings. My parents didn’t have much money, with only one income and four children. Although they couldn’t yet afford a television, they did have a radio. What it must have been like to sit around the radio, listening to live shows, and bringing to life, in the children’s young minds, the characters that were portrayed. I asked my oldest sister, who was born in the mid 1940’s, what life was like when she was young, what our parents, and our neighbors wanted, what they dreamed of owning. At first she named the typical wants, like cars, houses, healthy kids. But then she smiled, her stare became fixed on a distant time and I could see her mind drifting back to her childhood. “We wanted a washing machine. One of our neighbors owned one and boy was it nice!” she finally said. “We had a house and a car, and Daddy had a decent job at the mill. We didn’t own our house but we had a place to stay. You gotta remember, we still had more than most of our friends” (Townsend). I know this to be true. She is the oldest of seven children born to my parents, and she knew all the ups and downs that our family endured. My parent’s dream was simple - working to make ends meet. She also knew when our family’s American Dream changed, how my parent’s contentment of having a roof over their head was no longer enough, that they also wanted and got a

Mercifully, today I am able to savor the captivating, eclectic aspects of their culture daily. "Oh, Caitlin," my grandmother disappointingly groans, "I anticipate you to flip on the light switch using your own volition. You might as well utilize this resource when you 're reading because back in Vietnam - " Pause. Yes, she is about to channel her inner raconteur, recounting the hardship of not having access to electricity and the hazardous candles of long-ago. Continue. "Okay, grandma," I swiftly interrupt to comply with her expectations and ceasing her hand motions, "I 'll turn on the lights." "Excellent," she mutters under her breath, folding her arms, "because you 're fortunate. Did you know that? My father would 've vehemently scowled at me for working in the dark. I used to complete my assignments under the dim moonlight after ambulating many kilometers from school to home." The penultimate and last sentence jabs me in the esophagus, for her excruciating burden delivered sympathy to my heart valves. Suddenly, I begin to analyze her persistent references to her youth, and I realize the immense differences in our childhoods. Today, my cellular device can rapidly transmit a message with an immediate response whereas a handwritten letter could astray in the sluggish postal service of the 40 's. Let alone, I could toss my revolting laundry into a colossal, whirling machine! Unlike an opaque cauldron brewing with soapy, scorching water that 's stirred and

I am standing outside the Wolcott House and it is 30 degrees out. A cold breeze runs through my coat. The Wolcott House is a late Federal early Greek Revival style home built around 1830. The home remained in the Wolcott’s family possession until 1959 when it was then turned over to the public. It was built in Maumee during the pioneer days; the home is a magnificent white two story, fourteen-room mansion. The house overlooks the Maumee River, a perfect location for James Wolcott. He was a shipbuilder, architect, politician and judge, it was crucial for him to have easy access to the river. It has been documented that this historical home is haunted. There have been visions and the feeling of super natural presence in the rooms of the home. I try to imagine myself back in time, in the late nineteenth century. Instead of the roar of cars, I would hear the boats on the Maumee River. The sound of wood being chopped would be heard in the distance, one of the Wolcott children doing some of their daily chores. The Wolcott boys, all five of them, would be responsible for supplying the wood and kindling for the fireplaces.

In Kansas City, a teenager, Sarah, had a family with many problems. She lived in a house “with no heat. No water. No lights. She read by flashlight” (Adler 1), until her grandfather took Sarah and her brother in.

Everything happens when the Great Depression hit Canada in 1930s. Despite Grandad immigrated to Canada with a dream of a country manor, his agoraphobia makes his goal hopeless. As Grandad became unemployed, he spent his whole day listening to radio which was his greatest hobby. Nevertheless, things grow worse as the power company cuts off their electricity for non-payment. This motivates Grandad’s electrical revolution to begin, which is cheating against the company to get back the power on. Although his plans seem to work, everything comes to a naught when the lineman from the power company discovers the wire spreading to their house. They end up even ruining their neighbors’

It was a quite a normal fall day out here in Louisiana. The year was 1930, my daughter and I had been out working in the barnyard. “Lauren, work faster the guest will be here soon for Thanksgiving dinner.” I exclaimed to Lauren as she was cleaning the pigsty. Soon we were to have our family and friends come to visit us for Thanksgiving. I don’t necessarily like having guest, since they’re always a lot of cleaning do. Actually, cleaning wasn’t the problem since we lived in a very small house out in the country. The problem was food was very scarce for us, so we worked extremely hard. You see, out here in Louisiana it wasn’t easy to be wealthy so half of the town was what you would call ‘poor’.We can’t provide them with a lot of food,

The village of Ludlow, Pennsylvania may look like any other abandoned, small town America, but there is one thing that remains from its glory days, Olmsted Manor. This victorian mansion appears to belong in New York or Boston but it is the middle of wilderness Pennsylvania. In the cold, misty hills of Appalachia, this magnificent home was built by one of the founders of Long Island Light and Power who was one of the pioneers of electricity. Here is a hamlet is which full of my relatives and back woods people. I visit the Olmsted manor each fall on my way to the Penn State football game, were I visit my grandfather’s relatives with my Grandpa, Dad and sister. This manor was built in 1917 and includes a servant’s wing, extensive gardens and attic bowling alley where we bowl during each visit. My great grandfather worked as a watchman in George Olmsted’s tannery mill and my grandfather worked as a gardener at the manor in order to pay for his scouting camp each summer. My great grandparents were from Slovakia and immigrated through Ellis Island to this tiny village with its orange, rust

For a moment, I was transported back to my grandmother’s house in Small Town, Tennessee. I could smell the fresh Earth and hear all of the different livestock, fowl and outside dogs that guarded the animals, just as they did the house, from any predators. I recalled being a little girl dancing like no one watched, dreaming up inventions,

Mr. D. H. has a fascinating memory about his childhood, although he doesn’t remember his time as a toddler. One of the very first statements he made to me about his childhood was, “When I grew up, life as a child was a whole lot different than it is now” (D.H., personal communication, September 26, 2016). He was born in Troy, Ohio but the majority of his family stayed in Cleveland, including his grandmother, his aunt and uncle. Mr. H. began to reminiscence about a trip my uncle had taken him on, a couple years ago, “My son took me back to Troy and we found the house I use to live in. It looked so big when I was a kid, running down the big hills and the yard and stuff, but when I went there wasn’t no big hill

“The House I Live In,” a movie that explains the war on drugs from multiple perspectives from addict to enforcement and lawmaker between.

Against odds appearing as though they could never get conquered, I’d managed to climb out of an inescapable hole. Upon reaching the halfway point of a six-week Summer 2012 crash course in Intermediate Spanish, my grade stood at an awful 74% (or a solid C). A big opportunity for redemption soon arrived in the form of an assignment to give a four-to-six-minute presentation in Spanish about someone who has affected my life in a profound and powerful way. Using notes taken during a visit one weekend to Grandpa’s house, I gave a speech Professor Almonte thought was bueno enough to merit an ‘A’ grade. Feeling my confidence bolstered, I tackled the remaining tasks with a renewed dedication and completed what was back then my greatest academic turnaround

The fleeting changes that often accompany seasonal transition are especially exasperated in a child’s mind, most notably when the cool crisp winds of fall signal the summer’s end approaching. The lazy routine I had adopted over several months spent frolicking in the cool blue chlorine soaked waters of my family’s bungalow colony pool gave way to changes far beyond the weather and textbooks. As the surrounding foliage changed in anticipation of colder months, so did my family. My mother’s stomach grew larger as she approached the final days of her pregnancy and in the closing hours of my eight’ summer my mother gently awoke me from the uncomfortable sleep of a long car ride to inform of a wonderful surprise. No longer would we be returning

Home is the place one spends more time in their life and share special moments with family. Where one expects to live permanently carefree and feel protected under the roof of their house. One day I want to have a home that makes me feel well and where I can be safe and happy. The purpose of this essay is to illustrate the decisions I made about designing my future dream house.

One place that I see every day but don’t put much attention to is my house. The house that I live in is near by a park and a gas station. My house is small and cozy is made of steel frames, the anterior part of the house has a beige and pink color that combine a beautiful shade. The inside of my house has many portraits of family members and drawings. I have a total of two bathrooms and four rooms a kitchen and two living rooms. We have a living room that’s used for grown-ups and the other one is used for the children. The kitchen table and chairs are made of wood, in the ceiling there is big chandelier. The walls of my house are painted in different colors that are green, beige and pink. I like that every room has its own different color, it’s not boring it brings life and shade.