Descriptive Essay : ' The Big City '
Every summer the "four J 's"--my grandmother 's nickname for her granddaughters--along with my little brother, descended on my grandparents ' home, turning their peaceful country existence into instant chaos.
Oh, how we cherished this yearly tradition. While our parents enjoyed an out-of-state trip with friends, we stayed with our grandparents and visited with our two cousins who had come from out-of-state to join in the fun.
As a child there was no place on earth I loved more than Monroe, a peaceful sleepy town in the middle of nowhere. Monroe was so tiny we claimed we could walk the town in forty-five minutes although we never timed it.
Coming from the "big city," I relished their country lifestyle. Grandpa had a huge vegetable garden and a chicken coop where we gathered fresh eggs. One neighbor had horses we could pet and ride, and on the other side of the house, sheep grazed in a lush green field. Ultimately, this atmosphere would set the stage for the setting that I wanted one day.
Country mornings started early, but we never needed an alarm clock. The luscious aroma of sizzling bacon set us in motion. We 'd find Grandma huddled over the stove, fresh eggs, bubbling in the frying pan while she flipped fluffy pancakes on the griddle. And each morning Grandma 's copper tea kettle whistled a cheery "good morning" song,…