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Tell us about the home where you lived when you were twelve. Which town, city, or country? Was it a house or an apartment? A boarding school or foster home? An airstream or an RV? Who lived there with you?

Today’s twist: pay attention to your sentence lengths and use short, medium, and long sentences as you compose your response about the home you lived in when you were twelve.

4 Hudson Avenue

It wasn’t a very big house to start with – just two bedrooms, kitchen, one bathroom, living room and lounge. And a tiny little verandah. But it grew over the years. Granny and Grampa’s flat was added to one side, a connecting door into our house giving them access to the only bathroom in the house. I can still see Grampa’s walking stick advertising his presence in the bathroom. My brother and I shared a bedroom for many years until the last set of additions were done and the tiny verandah became his room with a door into the new dining room and the original front door hidden behind his cupboard. Bizarrely, that door opened into what was to be my parent’s room. I’ve often wondered how he felt about that. (Making mental note to ask him next time I see him).

Probably the best part of the additions was the new lounge. It wasn’t big, it was HUGE!  So too, was the fireplace they had built. The fireplace had to be knocked down and reduced when Mom found she and her whole cub pack could fit into it and the builders had forgotten to build a flue. And how big was that lounge? Big enough for Dad to bring in a motor bike and work on it there after Mom moved out. Big enough for band practice with our friends and my brother’s drum kit. Big enough to have movie evenings with hired reel films watched on a sheet hung from the window. It was home.

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