I guess it's only fitting that I tell about the house that we lived in when I was a little girl. My first home was home for just 15 months; of course I have no memories of that one. But when I was 15 months old we moved into a 2 bedroom brick house just outside of city limits. For mom it was like moving out to the country. She was used to being in the middle of the city.
My sister and I shared a bedroom. I have vague memories of a patterned grey wool carpet in our bedroom. One night we slept on our mattresses on the floor just before we got new carpet in our bedroom. There was a spot on the wall where the paint had chipped off, or been chipped off by one of us girls? It looked like a crocodile's head. When it was time for bed we took the family dog in with us; he always slept with his head toward my sister and I got left with the back end. That was one point of argument; we were full of reasons to argue, like most kids. Supposedly my sister and I even argued in our sleep. I remember many nights turning in my bed so that my head was at the foot of my bed so we could talk. And then we'd get the reminder "go to bed girls!"
When I was really little there were ceiling to floor curtains in the living room. They covered one window, the rest of that wall, around the corner and over to the other window. My sister and I got caught playing in them once. Well, she didn't get caught. But I was stuck in the curtains and couldn't find my way out so I got the lecture on not playing in the curtains.
Our backyard was very well shaded. The driveway was lined with maple trees. The yard was fenced in and just to the rear of the yard there was a huge tulip poplar tree. We were able to play outisde all summer long and not get too tanned thanks to all that shade. Sometimes we played "Little House on the Prairie" dressing up in our long dresses and sunbonnets. The picnic table was our wagon and the reins were attached to a fence pole.
Once in a while my mom would make us a tent in the backyard. She'd put an old sheet over the clothesline and drive clothespins through it to hold the tent down on the ground. We'd put a quilt on the ground and have lunch in our tent. If the weather was rainy and dreary, Mom would pitch a tent in the unfinished basement. She had a clothesline down there too; she used grey tape to anchor the sides there.
For the longest time we had just one full bathroom--with a tub, no shower. I remember dad putting in the shower in the basement but I hated to use it because the basement scared me. My sister was supposed to stay with me but she would get bored fast and head back upstairs. (Hmmm, this sounds like something my girls would do) When my sister started high school my parents finished off the bathroom in the basement and added a bedroom for my sister. Having two bathrooms sure made it easier for us to all get out of the house in the morning.
My parents house always made me feel safe, secure and loved. My parents were very black and white about things and for the most part we could expect that whatever we were asked to do there was my parents way to do it or my parents way to do it. No need to ask questions. Just do it and be done. My parents tell the story about my dad telling my sister "you'll do it, like it or not." She was just a little thing but she looked up at Dad and said "I don't like it." But she did it.
My house and my upbringing fit me. Maybe it wouldn't work for everyone. But it gave me what I needed. I can only hope that my girls will look back on their homeplace and feel the same.
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