Danielle Langlie

Descriptive Essay
College Prep English
Period 1

My summer started with moving out of a faded daffodil colored Victorian I had

considered home for 8 years. This three floor giant had been home to my parents, two sisters, my

brother, his girlfriend, my best friend, my best friend’s brother’s girlfriend, five different dogs,

sixteen different cats, and a guinea pig over our eight years there. It was well loved. By the end

of spring 2015 it was just my parents, younger sister, Valentine, my sister’s dog, and myself. The

giant house, with just too many rooms and extra space, had decayed past the point that we had

time or patience to take care of. We were blessed with caring and family-like neighbors when we

moved in but they had moved out in the last year or so, foreshadowing our own exit. Our lives

there were coming to end before we even knew it.

Our home hasn't changed much, with it’s ebony shutters and ivy that still slowly climbs

it’s way up the siding. The height of the ivy is one of the only hints of aging. Our elderly

Victorian was built in 1906. The older house looks somehow fitting in the neighborhood,

surprisingly in between a slightly newer blue gray family home and a textured tan house topped

with a deep green metal roof with ivy to match. Looking down my home street at these three

houses was like looking at a grandmother, her daughter, and her granddaughter. Three different

generations of home, all in their own intimate states of disarray. The Victorian looked juxtaposed

in that specific lot, in between its two younger counterparts, showing just how different but

important it is. You see a lot of these little families of homes in La Crosse - modern mixed with

hundreds of years old but not generally in the same block like ours.
 Our house has a mighty ash tree out front. The trunk sits to the right of our house with its

outstretched fingers reaching to all corners of our small front yard. Every fall her little leaves

would go from a bright grassy color and fade until they matched the color of our daffodil siding.

Following suit of the other trees in the neighborhood, she would shed thousands of tiny leaves,

leaving a bedding of yellow on the dying grass below. Our tree truly is very big but that day, she

looked dwarfed next to the large white and orange abomination that is a U-Haul, which was

parked on the grass backed-up to our front stairs. I had been at work all day, and as I pulled up I

was sent into an immediate state of nostalgia. The last time I had seen this was September of

2007, when I first moved to La Crosse.

The face of the house is decorated with a big bay window, which shows our living room

to the rest of the world as they drive by - a small snapshot of the lives living there. I could see

my reflection on that rather hot summer day. Looking past the reflection, into the dim room, I

could see my mom, little sister, and former neighbor Howard hard at work. They had

transformed our mountain of boxes into a small hill. Rounding the corner where our house and

front porch meet I was greeted with an open door. Our front door is off white, with a beautifully

cut inlay of glass. They had gotten most of the work done while I was at work so I only needed

to help with a few boxes and my bedroom furniture.

After an hour of frantic loading and countless checks to make sure we have everything,

my mom peeled out of the driveway towards our new home. I followed behind her in her car

with my little sister by my side and Howard in his car behind us. I distinctly remember looking

over and seeing silent tears rolling down my sister's face. My face was already warm with silent

tears and she knew that. This house was our second home but I have more memories there than
anywhere else. Even though our time there has come to an end, the memories made there will

remain, as the house has for over a hundred years.