Up at my grandparents cabin in Mio‚ Michigan‚ it is usually pretty calm and relaxing… Unless me and my brother are riding the ATVs of course. We ride up and down the dirt driveway‚ through the trails leading to the neighbors houses‚ and around our small private pond. I really enjoy going fast on “my” ATV (it is really my grandpa’s‚ but he doesn’t use it and my brother has his own). One day while I was up at my cabin around 2012‚ I was taking a break from riding‚ my brother asked me if I wanted to
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figurative language‚ contrast imagery‚ parallel sentences‚ concrete details‚ sensory details and many more different rhetorical terms throughout the essay. The author begins to tell describe her past childhood as a kid growing up in the house of her grandparents. It all begins in her brothers eighteenth birthday in which her brother tells the author when was the last time she had cloud pictures. Meaning when was the last time the author had any pictures of imagination that she once had as a child. In return
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There is a little controversy about the discipline that children tend to display these days versus when their parents and grandparents were growing up and I think that O’Connor was showing or describing a little bit of that when she introduced the children into her story‚ “A Good Man Is Hard to Find.” While reading the story I was immediately drawn to the grandmother because of course she seems to be the main character in her story‚ “A Good Man Is Hard to Find.” Then as I read on I became
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reminds me of a Christmas ginger bread house. Grandma’s house was a favorite place of mine to spend summer break‚ when running through a water sprinkler‚ playing games with the neighborhood kids or riding my bike were the most important events of my day. Pulling in the driveway you could not overlook the over sized garage that sat back to the right of the house. The garage had an oily musty smell that would make you sick if inhaled for too long. To enter the house you had to go through a squeaky screen
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Effects of a Stroke I remember the day like it was yesterday‚ my grandma had experienced a stroke. I remember my dad calling my grandparents’ house to speak with my grandpa‚ but when my grandma answered with a confused tone my dad knew something wasn’t quite right. She was unable to speak clear and could not respond to a question with a logical answer. After my dad had realized my grandma had a stroke he immediately called an ambulance and rushed to her house to make sure she was okay. When
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There’s no other place in the world where I feel the most at home than being at Long Beach Island. There you can smell the fresh‚ salty air of the ocean as the warm breeze brushes across your face. It is a place where the sand‚ sometimes chilled by the water or boiling hot up in the sand dunes‚ fiddles its way through your toes one by one sending chills down your spine with every step. Off in the distance you can hear the chiming of bells as the ice cream men call children of all ages to cool themselves
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The 1960s was a time of optimism and rebellion‚ but not for everyone. I interviewed my Grandparents Roberta (Copeland) Bradley and James Bradley‚ in order to see the 60s from both a man’s and a woman’s perspective. Before conducting the interview‚ I didn’t know much about the 1960s‚ I knew the bold points like civil rights‚ Cuban missile crisis‚ feminine movement and Vietnam. I learned most of my information through reading the chapters of my history book. Reading the textbook helped me know the
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“Next Stop‚ Edgewater Park.” the bus driver said as I gathered my luggage together and got ready to get off at my stop. This wasn’t the first time I rode the bus to my grandparents’ house‚ but this ride seemed peculiarly longer. As we arrived at the stop I felt anxious because I haven’t seen my grandparents in about two years on my 12th birthday. I stepped off the bus and pulled out the note my mom gave me before getting on the bus. The not read‚ “Hope you made it safely‚ once you walk to the parking
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are a friendly people‚ known for our resilience‚ love of adventure and good food‚ vibrant music and the pulsating Bhangra dance‚ apart from our ability to work hard and adapt to new situations and immerse in new environments‚ making them ours. My grandparents‚ paternal and maternal‚ moved to Delhi during the mass migration of 1947‚ when India and Pakistan became two sovereign nations. My grandfathers‚ both qualified engineers‚ etched new lives in what for them was then a foreign land‚ and pursued successful
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Do you just sit down sometimes and wonder about the lives of some of your friends and family? Questions racing through your brain‚ wondering if you even know any of the answers to these simply questions. If you ever wanted to know about my life‚ I would just simply say ask because I am like an open book. By ask me you would be surprised because usually when people assume‚ about 99 percent of the time‚ they would get me all wrong. When people see me walk through the door‚ they often assume that I
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