Where I Am From --- a writing exercise

I came across this writing exercise template, and just for fun, I thought I'd give it a try. I did take some creative license with a few of the prompts. :D

I am from sweet wine, from a white Kitchenaid mixer and salty tortilla chips. I am from a qwerty keyboard and a lifelong love affair with language.

I am from a small house, with a big yard and warm yellow light streaming in my windows at day's end. I am from pots of glossy, sweet basil, mint, lavender and lemon thyme on my back porch.

I am from tall pines, blue granite boulders and dancing aspen trees.

I am from Delft Blue, klompje, shotguns and stubborn, opinionated determination. From Grietje, and Franciscus Jacobus and an Alice who lived in her own wonderland.

I am from even-tempered, curious, anxiety-filled and deeply loyal. From Brer Rabbit, the lives of the saints and the names of the constellations.

I am from the Latin Mass, from incense and holy water, old stone chapels, stained glass and hymns. I am from those who clung to the old ways and refused to change. I am from dissidents. I am from lead-crystal rosary beads on a silver chain.

I'm from the warm sands and crashing surf of the Atlantic, from enormous mosquitoes, miserable humidity and tan lines (I'm a summer baby); I am from an old farm with rats in the barn, and the brick-paved streets of a busy sea port. I am from cool streams, glassy lakes and green meadows dotted with brown-eyed susans. I am from pasque flowers pushing their purple crowns up through the snow.

I am from the remote mountains of the Rockies and the polluted waters of the Passaic River. I am from aged Gouda and fresh fish. I am from green chilis roasting on the grill, tomatoes warm from the sun and creamy Chicken Tetrazzini with a cheesy crumb topping. I am from venison, and quail and blue crabs caught fresh from the sea.

I am from a diminutive, light-hearted baker who helped his Jewish neighbors escape the Nazis, where bombs turned brick houses into dust that stained the snow red. I am from the hard-working, profane, immigrant boilermaker and the dark-eyed beauty with the dreamy expression on her face. 

I am from a treasure trove of history: of sepia portraits of serious-faced people, passenger lists, census records, draft cards, marriage certificates and death certificates. I am from passage on an ocean steamer, fishing the backwater for eels, Ellis Island and starting over in a new world.

I am from flickering reels of old movies, tea-length gowns, delicate lace caps and chambray dresses. I am from olive drab uniforms, waltzing in the living room, a stained jeweler's apron, sweeping crinoline petticoats...and bare feet on the kitchen floor.