Day Eleven: Size Matters (In Sentences)
Today’s Prompt: Where did you live when you were 12 years old? Which town, city, and country? Was it a house or an apartment? A boarding school or foster home? An airstream or an RV? Who lived with you?
Toady’s twist: pay attention to your sentence lengths and use short, medium, and long sentences as you compose your response about the home you lived in when you were twelve.
In keeping with my inability to write everyday and keep up with Writing 101’s prompts, I am going out of order. So here is my response to Day 11, which was the prompt a few days ago! 🙂
12 years old. I was the ripe old age of twelve back in 2003, which was the end of six grade and beginning of seventh grade. Wow, that seems like so long ago! Well the house that I lived in at 12, is the exact same house that I lived in when I was a baby, and still to this day my parents live there (and I will too when I move back to the states). It is the only house I have ever known. We live in a 3 bedroom/ 2 bath house in a great neighborhood, in San Jose, in good old California. My roommates are Mom, Dad, my sister and a dog or two; and it has always been that way. Thinking back on the fact that I have lived int he same house my whole life is kind of crazy. All of my childhood memories are held in one house. Granted things have changed over the years to the house and to the inhabitants, but the location has been the same. There is such a huge sense of familiarity and comfort having the same house after all these years. After living abroad, I am very much looking forward to being back in that familiar place. The comforts of home!
One of my favorite things growing up was the swing we had out front on one of the huge trees. I think when I was 12 we still had it; although it might have been towards the end of the life of the swing haha. Towards the end of the swing’s life, the branch it was connected to would dip and drop so much with our weight, and there were days we were convinced that the branch would give out and we would crash and fall and seriously injure or break something. Thankfully, that never happened. We just gave up on our own and retired the swing before it broke on us. I remember my sister and I flying high and feeling like if we swung high enough we’d hit the front windows of the house or be able to launch ourselves into the big, strong branches of the tree. Of course neither of these things happened. But it was fun to imagine all the same.
Sadly…I cannot find a picture of me when I was 12, bummer. Nor can I find a picture of me in the front of my house or any house pictures. Clearly that is not something I tend to take pictures of…so I will leave you with gem!
Where did you live when you were 12? What is one memory you have from when you lived there?