Above is a picture of the house I mostly grew up in. We had other houses before this, but this one, that little green house was where I spent what I think of as my most formative time, from about age 8 or 9 onwards. Until pseudo-maturity.
That's where I morphed into the bag of tricks I am today.
Actually, they [whoever "they" are] say that long before age 8 we sort of "are" who we end up being, and so I guess I was already who I am prior to The Green House on Argyle Street.
I got the picture from Google Maps.
Someone else lives there now -- both of my parents are long since deceased, and today I live almost on the other side of the country. But I sooooooo remember that house!
High up on the inside of the main hallway closet I once wrote, in pencil, "I was here, Nov. ?, 1972." I forget the exact day. Almost 40 years ago. I know it is still there because when my mother finally moved out, my siblings looked up there and saw it, and sent me the picture. It's written on the INSIDE wall because I used to climb up there and hide from the world. [I had issues -- still have some!] In other words, it will never be painted over, it's so hidden.
See that roof there?
I used to LIVE on that roof, scrambling about. I still am not sure why I loved that roof so much -- I would get to it by climbing up the clothesline pole out back. I would look like such a crazy oaf if I climbed up there today, even if I had a special repair task to do, much less for recreational purposes.
I remember when I was taller than that one big tree out front, on the lawn.
I remember how amazed I was when we moved there from the small town we had come from.
This was the Big City!
Back then my simplified criteria of what constituted a "city" was "Does it have billboards?"
And this one did!
My younger sister and I would go just across the street [at the big high school]… on weekends in the summer and they would play Disney movies in the auditorium.
Maybe I am just too high on coffee here [and I do have quite the buzz going] but I miss being that young, sometimes.
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What great memories! I know what you mean by missing being that young. I don't want to be a kid again, but I do miss the innocence and often care-freeness of being a kid.
ReplyDeleteOf all the homes I ever lived in when I was young, I dream of only one – and in great detail. Some places leave their mark on us forever.
ReplyDeleteStefanie -- yeah, you're right, I totally don't want to be a kid again, but the memories, oh they are sweet.
ReplyDeleteBeth -- this house here in the picture is the one where I had the most fun for sure. The significance of territory is....... significant.
I spent the first 17 years of my life in one house -- and I remember it so intensely, with the same kind of nostalgia that you're sharing with us here. It's amazing how that childhood place can be so vital to our memory.
ReplyDeleteps- Pepys' comment was really me! I forgot my dh was signed in ;) Oops, hahaha
ReplyDelete