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My Grandama's House
I remember watching my grandma sitting in that white old chair outside of her house. She was having that usual morning cigarette. Her face was full of wrinkles; she always had this weird expression like if she was angry about something. In winter vacations, we always visited her. She welcomed us with tons of food, literally tons. She made three or four different types of cakes, spaghetti, pizza, turkey; we all knew that going to grandma’s home meant leaving with some extra pounds from there. I love my grandma but ought!, I didn’t like going to her house. Her house was pretty small, one floor, three rooms, a tv rooms, dining room, and the kitchen, I really like the aspect of the house it was really cool and retro, but the cats and that smell of cigar all over the house was horrible. First of all I don’t like cats, I hate them with all my heart, I think I hate them because I’m allergic to them. Second of all that smell, oh! That smell, it was just terrible, I didn’t mind she smoked you know, if she wanted to smoke that’s okay with me it’s her life let her do whatever she want, but the cigarette smell was everywhere you went, every part of the house had that nasty smell. Just remembering that smell is discounting. Even though I did not like some things I loved spending time with my grandma, she is a very intelligent and wise person. You could ask her about anything and she would always had an answer. I remember a time when she bought fireworks; we almost blew the house apart. It was very funny, I laugh every time I remember that moment. I love my grandma, every time I see her I feel like a get a little bit wiser, we tend to talk a lot. One of our favorite hobbies is just sitting in her backyard talking about life, and sometimes we just sit there and read.
