Childhood Memories of Dad :: Descriptive Writing Examples

Cold winters, hot summers, pokey gravel, darkness, inconvenient tools and deterioration of the old hotrods. All of this came to an abrupt hault when a father and son's dream became a reality. A place of our own to operate without distractions. A place to bring our thoughts together and mechanically reconstruct cars and repair them within our own limits. This place that my dad and I started building would be known as "The Shop" or a.k.a. "Hopshop." This shop is the last project that my dad started and I was going to finish it. It all started by excavating the ground that would one-day support this shop. The shop plans had been previously made and were followed exactly. After the concrete was poured and steel beams were secured, it was ready to put the metal siding on. Within the concrete is our handprints and names, which makes it even more special to me. This sturdy architecture was unable to be finished because of the lack of expenses, after my dad's death. After that cold lonely winter, leading to the on coming year flew by very swiftly. I finally overcame my fear and decided that it was time to step up and find the will to complete the project. It took some time and money, but finally it was completed. It included automatic garage doors, sophisticated lighting system, a pellet stove for the cold winters and an air conditioner for the scorching summer. I moved all of our air tools, craftsman wrenches, sockets, vises, grinders, and the vehicles. In addition to the shop, there are things within the shop that have stories to them, making it what it is, such as the toolbox, Mustang, and Bronco. The Mustang was my dad's and it has been his since it was first manufactured. We were going to restore it to its original look that was established from my dad's artistic ability. Designing it with gloss black and flames coming from both fender wells. It had 20 inch racing slicks with a 4:11 positive track pushing 400 horses with its 302 boss engine. I remember how it used to smell, like hot dust leather and it used to suck me back in the seat almost giving me whiplash. We called The "Stang." It has been wrecked but only has a minor dent in its front right fender. The engine is now in my dad's 79 Ford but the