User talk:Davin Bacon

Davin L. Bacon Doctor Owens Honors English 111 16 September 2008 Essay One (Personal Narrative) I have this house to myself now, my entire family use to live here, but slowly over the course of a decade or so, we have all gone our separate ways. I am the only constant, the only one that has stayed here, stubborn as a fact. My father had moved us north in '01, he had always wanted to live up here, and now he was retired and free to go. I was in middle school, and found it difficult to make new friends. Needless I am not a big fan of change. Our new home was at first a dreary, and tired shade of gray, my mother had a it painted yellow, and the shutters were to be green. It has two decks, large one in the front, a smaller one in the rear. My father had bought it off of the former resident's family, he had past away and the kids did not want the house. Dad claims he got a good price for it. At first I thought it too small for our family of six, and now much too large for myself. There are reminders of the old man strewn through out the yard, most prominently his bird houses. One, only about thirty feet from the house, a miniature version of the house, and has a large bees' nest inside. That nest has been there for as long as I can remember. I often wondered when I was younger if the old man has died in the house, and if so, what room. Call it a morbid fascination, but I want to know. Not long after moving up north, two of the kids left for college. A few years later my mother asked for a divorce, I was a sophomore in high school, and felt oddly indifferent about the matter. She said she was unhappy, and had found a house in Cadillac, and a decent job. Her and my youngest sister left shortly there after. For a year or so after that it was just me and my father in that house on Hillbrand. He worked the nights and slept during the days, I keep the opposite hours, and was out of the house for the most part. We saw little of each other. The next spring my parents got back together, I was Sixteen by then, and not wanting to move again, I talked my dad into letting me stay out at Hillbrand house on my own. Within a few weeks a passer by could tell that the house's only resident was a boy of sixteen, or would have thought it vacant. The lawn has rarely been mowed, the drive way never tended too. The house was not to well taken care of either, the refrigerator was empty for the most part, except for bottles of soda. Fast food wrappers were pilled in the waste basket. The house had truly fallen into disrepair. I found myself spending less and less time there. After all I was holding a job, and attending school, that coupled with downtime with friends left me little time to be home. I lived like that for quite sometime, a year or so. I thought myself pretty self sufficient for my age, and took a sort of pride from it. other kids would ask parents for permission, or money for something, but not me, I did as I please. I was—as I saw it then—my own man, at the ripe old age of seventeen. Out there the neighbors held the idea that you can do as you please if it is on your property. And I gather that that is the opinion held in most rural areas of the country. In the fall you here hounds in the distance, chasing game through the beaver pond. A field of ferns keeps a Cedar swap a bay on the edge of the property. Across the road there are patches of old growth that hold out in the stands of pine planted in neat little rows. A large oak overlooks the property, its trunk is marked with the scars left over from the last great fire, I often wonder it's age. The winters are long, out here, and the roads are nearly impassable, In spring blue berries, begin to sprout, by late sumer they bloom. There is a stretch of power lines near by, it makes an en promptitude rifle range, you regularly hear gunfire from there. At night you can see the lights of three city's, fife lake to the west, Manton to the south west, and Kingsley to the north and west. their mercury lights reflect off the clouds and make an artificial Aeros Borealis. A pole barn was erected adjacent to the house. My father had been envious of those that belonged to my uncles, and he was not afraid to let it be know. As soon as he was given the chance, he had one built. It is large, green, and unnecessary. On hot summer days you can hear the metal roof and sides creak as they expand and contract in the sunlight. The Barn was built with astonishing speed, contractors came in, and with the help of my dad and eldest brother, the barn was up in a week a week. Shortly there after it was fitted with electric outlets, and a wood stove to heat it.

Quixotic plea
You are invited to join the discussion at Wikipedia talk:Wikipediholism test. Thanks. —  04:54, 23 May 2015 (UTC)