Wednesday, July 18, 2007
My Childhood Home
Owlhaven is doing this great link-up meme about sharing memories of our childhood homes. She describes it this way:
What I want to hear are details that were important to you as a child: your secret hideout under the stairs, the single-paned picture window you licked and froze your tongue to one winter morning, the backyard tree you climbed, the way your mother washed your hair in the kitchen sink every Saturday night, or any other strong indelible memory you have.
On Friday, July 20th, put your post up on your blog. I’ll put a Mr. Linky up on my blog so that you can sign in with the address of your post. If you don’t have a blog, you can leave your story in my comments section on the 20th. Then you can go to visit others who are sharing their own memories. I think that reading each other’s childhood memories of ‘home’ will help us as parents get a better feel for the types of things that make childhood memorable for children.
I thought I'd post mine a couple of days early to help spread the word here.
I moved into my home when I was about six years old. My mom and step-dad still live there now. The house was a typical mid-seventies style house. I remember the light green low shag carpeting, the wood-paneling, the avocado green kitchen, and the gold and orange wallpaper in our bathroom.
Since I was the oldest, I got to pick my room. I chose the smaller room with the smaller closet. Why? It had two windows, each situated towards the corner side of the back left side of the room. I liked that. I remember my red Holly Hobbie bedspread and matching curtains. Sometime later I was allowed to move into the biggest room on the second floor, which had previously been a playroom, which never got used in that fashion. In fact, I really only have a couple of memories of that room. One is playing, "Don't touch the floor." We would crawl and hop along the furniture (including a harvest gold wide-welt corduroy sofa which has been re-covered and is now in my basement!) and swing across doorways on the doorknobs. Once I moved in, I got to paint it. It was peach. I loved it. For some reason, we actually did use the smaller room when it took over as the extra bonus room. I remember using the sofa in there to read and playing Atari: Asteroids, Pac-Man, and Zelda.
I remember doing cartwheels in our big front yard, and playing tennis and kickball in the street and the cul-de-sac. I walked home from elementary school every day, usually alone, thinking imaginary thoughts and wishing I could fly.
I remember that as I grew up, my friends were always made welcome, even if they had to push clean laundry aside so that they could sit on the gray leather sectional sofa. My best friend would just come in without knocking with a "Hi, Mom" to the "mom" with whom she spent the most time with outside of her own.
I remember the pets over all those years: Mindy, Pruff, Doogie, Mork, Dork (cats who were all offspring of Mindy I think, and who came and went to some extent), and the dogs Wendy, Brutus, and Heidi. I even remember the neighbor's dog who Mom let in for fun every now and again.
There were meals eaten in the kitchen, with the ceiling fan turned off by mandate of my step-dad so that the food didn't get cold. There were meals eaten out as a family, and those shared on TV trays in the living room.
The place where I grew up has changed and evolved without me. There are now different pets, different room set-ups and different family habits. But I still carry memories of Home.