Where I'm From

Here's a poem that I wrote in the 10th Grade for Mrs. Turner's English Class. I was really happy with it. I'm not normally the writing type, but I felt really good about this one. The poem is supposed to be about your family, and while my family doesn't have a lot of "traditions", we do have TONS of weird moments. So, honestly, you'll probably only understand all of this if you're one of the family!

Where I'm From

I am from biscuits made without Bisquick, from Nestle Tollhouse chocolate chips and home-made goodies that fill the kitchen.
I am from the “house before the red-roof inn”, a huge oak tree that stretches into the road, and a random gravel pile that won’t go away.
I am from the tiny creek that is too big to cross, and the rocks that wiggle when you step on them.
I am from far away Thanksgivings and usually dysfunctional, from Nanny Gus and Danny, and Cathy.
I am from hours that are wasted by arguing over unimportant things and a love for nature that was passed from old generations.
From it’s a whole new world for my big girl and you are my sunshine.
I am from the “frozen chosen” Presbyterians, Montreat Youth Conferences, and late Christmas Eve services.
I’m from The Electric City, but opposite ends of the south, from Ken’s eastern North Carolina barbecue and hamburgers every Saturday.
From the “perfectly good boogie board”, the quest to find a new rope, and the joy of finally getting to test it out.
I am from the drawer by the front door that can barely hold the family photos, from the attics that overflow with old furniture and BSA memorabilia.