childhood home #2

I dug out this photo today after writing about recreating your childhood home at ReadyMade last week. You can read the post here; it is easily one of my most favorites and brought back an abundance of happy moments spent in that little house.

I don’t have many warm and fuzzy memories of the abode pictured above, where we moved after selling the three-bedroom home referenced in the post. Our family stayed only four years after moving in and I relocated to St. Thomas two years before that; this picture was taken on a trip home. I remember the house being huge. Two staircases, a fully finished basement, four ginormous bedrooms, a formal sitting room, a beautiful backyard with a cobblestone alley beyond it. The house wasn’t us. Wasn’t our family. For the most part, Papo raised us with radical socialist values, and I know it pained him to be in that big old house with rooms we didn’t even use. He moved into a small three-bedroom home, started an urban farm in the backyard and the rest is history.

Living in “the mansion” did provide a few great lessons for me, and my dad and I joke that it was a great social experiment. Having lived in this house means I won’t yearn for a similar one later on. The Mister and I decided long ago that we’d be perfectly fine with a small bungalow and when it comes time to buy, that is what we will look for. I don’t think Papo regrets moving us there for the same reason. Sometimes, you do know what you had when it’s gone. And you prefer it that way.

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4 responses to “childhood home #2

  1. I must say, I really like the paint job on that house in this post.

    As soon as I saw that first pic of you in the kitchen with that b/w check floor I squeaked with recognition —“OMG! that’s the same floor as her current kitchen!”

    I sometimes ‘pet’ certain non-breathing entities too. 🙂

    I can totally relate to this subject. My favorite house of all time was the one we lived in until I was (only) in 3rd grade —- so 7/8 years old? —– it’s always been my ‘childhood’ house even though we moved numerous times. I even went back to visit it some 30 years later —even got to go inside —- and the second I did, I burst into tears. It was hard to remain somewhat controlled in front of people I did not know at all, but it was a very strange & powerful feeling being back in that house. Of course things had changed, but some had not. I can still remember the French doors, the black sectional sofa with the really scratchy fabric & my little play room under the big staircase. I would kill to have that sectional sofa again (but sans the scratchy fabric) 🙂

    nice post.

    • The paint job was great. My little sister used to call it the doll house. For all it’s faults, it really is gorgeous to look at.

      How cool that you got to go back and see! I’ve tried a few times but the new owners seem to hold a grudge on us kids for drawing all over the walls! Maybe one day you will find the same sofa… I’m putting good thrifting vibs into the Universe for you!

  2. Fantastic – you are really – re ally – good!! I loved this -= so glad your Dad sent it on to me – Love Aunt JO Ann

  3. Pingback: dovetail lamp + a peek of the dining room | urban casita

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