Tuesday, February 5, 2019

Warming Up :: Personal Narrative Papers

Warming UpWhy is it always so cold in here? I said, aiming my voice in the direction of my parents.Its only 68, was the consistent response from 1 of them. Thats room temperature. I couldnt understand why they kept the house so cold in the winter, 68 degrees during the day, 66 at night. Its more economical to keep the house at this temperature, my protactinium would allege me. How much money could it cost to heat the house a a couple of(prenominal) degrees more?Even though I was sure our finances would non suffer if we used more heat, I never thought of my family as rich. Rather, by comparing my family with some of my friends families, I thought we were comparatively poor. We never had many luxuries even our house was spartan. A few years ago, my dad and stepmom bought a plot of land in a new member and designed a house. After it was built, it was obvious that we had the plainest house in the cul-de-sac. It was a one-story house with conservative beige siding and absolutely n othing semblance to make it stand out. All the other houses had two stories or nonfunctional rows of brickwork or beautiful gables on the roof. I knew that these kinds of decorations did not come cheap, and I thought that all our neighbors must be very rich to be able to build such fancy houses.If our house was not ornate, it was sure as shooting well kept. My dad or I mowed the yard frequently so the grass wouldnt hold off ragged. Neat flowerbeds encircled the house, giving it the proper, orderly look that convention demanded. Most adults I knew looked down on houses that did not interpret this standard. Its too bad they couldnt fix that siding it would be a nice house otherwise, I would hear while passing a deserted home. Or someone else would say, Cant that family mow their lawn? Look how bad the neighborhood looks because of that one yard.My world was clean and tidy, organized and proper. I had spent all of my 16 years in the same town, raised with a standard of propriety . I knew, in an abstract sense, that there was poverty in the world. Even so, I thought my family was, if not poor, at least poorer than most families. But I rarely thought about poverty or living conditions at all.

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