Revision goal: less listing and more description.        

Every Thanksgiving I go to see my grandparents in St. Helena, California. It is really close to Napa Valley. It is beautiful there, with all of the different colored leaves and the mountains in the distance. Whenever I go there, I have nothing but great memories. From penny boarding down the steep hills with my sister, Bailey, to helping cook the giant Thanksgiving meal, it’s always great.

        My favorite memory from St. Helena is playing inside the house with pogo sticks, skateboards and soccer balls when I was little. Whenever my sister and I are bored, we usually play around in guest house, which is where we stay. It is one really big room with a couch, a tv, a bathroom, two bedrooms and an attic. We always play in the big room, and make up really fun games to pass time. We love to hop around on pogo sticks, ride around on skateboards and play mini soccer. I also teach Bailey how to play soccer and wiffle ball on the lawn. I love it in St. Helena.

THE END

Revisions:

Every Thanksgiving I go to see my grandparents in St. Helena, California. It is really close to Napa Valley, which is about an hour and a half drive away from San Francisco. It is beautiful there, with all of the different colored leaves, beautiful old buildings and grape vines at the vineyards. Whenever I go there, I have nothing but great memories. From penny boarding down the steep, rolling hills with my sister, Bailey, to helping cook the giant Thanksgiving meal of stuffing, artichokes, beets, gravy, mashed potatoes, salad, cranberry sauce all kinds of deserts and of course, turkey. It’s always so lively and entertaining watching football, and hearing everybody having an enjoyable time.

        My favorite memory from St. Helena besides the giant Thanksgiving dinner is morning tennis lessons. For the past couple years, my sister and I wake up early and have a quick breakfast before we leave to go to the Meadowood club. I race to the car and hop in eager to play tennis. As the leaves become a blur, Bailey, my sister and I start arguing about who will go first and who will go second when we split the lesson. “I should go last!”

“I should go last!”

“Why should you go last?” I told Bailey.

”Because I should!” she replied.

“Well Doug likes me to hit your balls as a warm up.”

“That is fair, let Wyatt go last Bailey.” My mom said.

“Ugh. Fine,” Bailey snapped.

When we arrive, I run to the instructor, Doug. I quickly say that Bailey is going first. I jog to the adjacent side of the let from Bailey. She has quickly surpassed my expectations after a few lessons, so she hits the ball over the net quite a bit, which keeps me running around, returning her an (advantage) court hit to the deuce side. “Last few swings, ok?” Doug tells Bailey.

“Ok.” she says.

When she strokes her last ball, Bailey sprints around the court picking up balls with a thing that is basicly a cart that has an opening in the front and a basket. When you roll over the balls, they go into the big funnel and into the basket. Finally. My turn. Doug and I work on full court rallies, and I serve to him. “Ugh! I missed the easy ball again!” I am not doing too well. I throw the ball into the air and swing my racket hard. Doug easily returns it and we go on for about 15 hits each. I am not that good at serving. The trip was amazing, and I cannot wait to go back next year.

      THE END

Wyatt’s Revisions:

You had a lot more descriptive language and added a lot about the tennis lesson, which I did not even know before. I think that it was more of a story then a list (like you stated), You did a really good job.