Well, college is hummin’ along pretty well so far.
It’s not as bad as I thought it would be; even though I’m sure it’s going to get a LOT harder!
I figure, once I meet a few people and start really getting into the swing of things, I’ll probably enjoy it.
I guess I failed to mention in my last entry about college that Mom and Dad took me out to a nice restaurant after I passed my 4 and a half hour test.
This is for Grandpa’s benefit mainly but I wanted to show you what I ate.

A big beautiful swordfish steak!
Boy, was it good!
Anyhow, the main reason I’m posting this entry is to display my first official school assignment. This was not homework but something we had to write up in a few minutes right there and then.
I’m going to post this just as i handed it to the teacher. So, you’ll see the same mistakes she will/has, ha. I only had about a half hour… in other words, there wasn’t much time to edit my mistakes. So be critical; let me know where and how I messed up, idk…
:D
(I think I’m going to like my writing class cause it’s basically a 101 on how to blog correctly. I feel like I’m blogging, seriously, fun. :P)
Here we go:
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HOME
To me, “home” is a place where one feels comfortable, loved, and [something else].
I use to live in Cool, CA. Yes, Cool, a little town up in the northern Sierra foothills. The town was no more than 1,000 residents strong; not quite big enough to be called a city but not too small either.
We (as in, my family and I) lived on a seven acre piece of property filled with huge oak trees and golden knee high grass. This is where I grew up; I lived here for 6 years and loved every day of it. Dad bought the property from a bank and was required to improve the value of the house within a certain time period. Right away Dad and I (only being 10) started breaking down walls and pulling up floors. We were remodeling our house. Dad gave me all the scrap wood from the house and told me I could make a tree fort just as long as I didn’t hammer any nails into the tree. Within the first year, my two younger brothers and I scoped out our large piece of land for that ideal oak tree. Taking our hammers in one hand and our boards in the other, we started sculpting a massive tree fort – or so it seemed massive to such small kids. Finally, after about a year’s worth of work, it was complete. The tree fort was 9 to 13 feet off the ground and it consisted of one large 8’ by 8’ main floor, several mini and much higher floors (which resembled bedrooms, in a way), and a “water hose jungle.” This “jungle” was basically half a dozen hoses strung up to the branches and tied to hang in every which way. We could literally pull a “Tarzan” from one side of the huge tree to the other. We had a lot of fun building our tree fort that summer. In a way, that tree fort itself was “home” to me. I spent the better part of my days up there.
The next summer, we bought a trampoline, which was later renamed “the Ring of Death.” We set it up near another enormous oak and again, tied hoses to this tree, too (we had a lot of extra hoses there). The Ring of Death was probably our second favorite place to play. We would climb our oak has high as we would dare and then leap from its branches landing safely on our “Ring of Death.” I know, “landing safely on a Ring of Death” sounds slightly oxymoronic …and crazy …but this is how we perceived “fun.” A favorite game of ours was to see who could make it all the way around the tree. Gripping a trusty hose hanging from the limbs above, we’d fling ourselves off the trampoline, around the tree, and (hopefully) back on the other side of the trampoline, which was a very sporting game since such a feat was rarely accomplished. It required the right amount of momentum to stick the perfect landing.
These are just some of the things that made this place so memorial and so… “home.”
I now live here in TN and I hope to move back to “Home” soon. If not that exact location, than at least the next door down.
When I think of home, I think of my seven acres in CA.
And there you have it. :D