Grandparents House Descriptive Essay

Descriptive Essay Of My Grandparents' House

When I was younger, I used to always go to my grandparents house. Even though they haven't lived in their old house in a while, I will always remember it. It is a place I loved and have many memories in. My grandparent's house was my home away from home. They were very hardworking, caring, and strict and the way their house felt reflected their personalities.

The house I will forever have embedded in my mind was located in the rural town of Bovina, Texas. This was the house my father and his twelve brothers and sisters grew up in. Every time we went there, I remember driving up and the first thing I saw was a medium sized dead tree with a rickety tire swing hanging from one of the larger tree limbs. The front yard had splotches of somewhat green grass here and there. The walkway to the front porch was kind of old and some of the cement bricks were broken. As you neared the house you got a better look at the house. The right side of the house, right under all the window sills, there were dying flowers. My grandma loved to tend to her garden but since she was getting up in the years, it became harder and harder for her to do so. The paint on the house was old and weathered and some of the bricks were broken and missing which brought out the real age of the house. There was a weird sound that you heard as you entered the doorway that sounded a little like a car that was about to stall out. I later learned that that was the old leaky swamp cooler on top of the house.

When you got into the house, the smell of Mexican food and cleaning products attacked your nostrils. The living room walls were made of this fake wood-looking stuff. It looked like a typical living room. It had two couches, a chair and a table in the middle of the room. The couches were a dark maroon color and the center table was glass with metal legs that were painted gold. The...

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My Grandfather’s House Essay

741 Words3 Pages

My grandfather’s house is a very special place to be. I lived with my grandfather for many years when I was little. His house always seemed to have something about it that set it apart from all the rest. As you walk into the front door of his house you notice a long, slender stairway that led up into the main hallway of the house. The strong smell of cigarette smoke is quite evident when you reach this point. Yes, my grandfather did smoke. My grandfather's house was always full of laughter and many cheers. Our family used to call it the M.A.R.T.A station. There was always someone over his house visiting whether it was family or friends. My grandfather's door was always open to everyone no matter what. When my grandfather had company,…show more content…

In the summer time my grandfather and whoever happened to be at the house would sit out on the sundeck for hours and talk about anything and everything imaginable; he was known as the neighborhood gossip king. The sundeck was a place for everyone to sit and relax in the warm sunny breeze. My grandfather was a very spontaneous person, he did what he wanted to at the drop of a hat and nobody ever stopped him, and would not let a job go until he was fully satisfied with it. He was always very active in many things like playing sports, gardening, cooking, farming, etc., but always had time for the ones he loved. Living at my grandfather’s house was indeed a lot of fun because he was so easy going with me, our grandfather played games with us, the more physical the better. He allowed me to do all the things that I wanted to do and dreamed about. He was always willing to lend me a hand in anything that I needed. He was a highly giving person to everyone around him and he never asked for anything in return. He always had an ear to ear smile that would brighten up anyone's day if it was not going to well. My grandfather had a very deep, but a fading, kind of scratchy voice that I remember he sung us to sleep when we were little. He would wait with us until we fell deep asleep and in the morning he would wake us with the smell of hot freshly cooked breakfast on the table. My grandfather could cook, he

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