House on Mango Street Blog Post: How I Can Relate

I do not know if I can necessarily relate to the girl that in the stories, but more to the bellwork that we had. I have strong memories of the house that I lived in before I moved to Arizona. We used to live in Oswego, Illinois, but we had lived in other house before this one. I remember this house mostly because it was where I grew up for the most part. It seemed like a castle to me at that age, and compared to what we live in now, it defiantely was. It was a two story, red bricked house with green grass and plants all around. We had a big backyard with a patio and a plastic green turtle sandbox. My room was huge and pink, and my brothers blue. Our play room got turned into a bright yellow bedroom for my little sister. Me and my brother used to play outside with the neighbors all day, and watch cartoons on the couch with our parents on Saturdays. Since the house was two stories there was two flights of stairs, so we used to throw army guys with parachutes off the landings of the stairs. The house had floor vents, and its silly but I miss those vents. So I guess I can relate more to her being named after someone because both my middle and first name are someone in the family's. My first name, Alexis, is after my dad's great grandfather, I think. His name was Alexander, so they shortened it to Alexis. My middle name, well there are many people in my family on both sides with the name Carolyn, but I'd like to think that it is after my grandma, on my mom's side. So I am both different and able to relate.