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- Go to Where I grew up...Not a very good Picture I am afraid.
There's nothing like the house where we grow up. I remember as a child, I always wondered what it would be like to move to another house. Maybe one where my bedroom could be on the second or third floor. It would be an experience, I told myself!
Now when I think back to it all, I wish I still lived in my home. When we moved, I wasn't at home at that time. Mom got a new boyfriend and everyone moved to his house since they were due to get married.
That all turned out terribly, but I felt like something had been truly lost. Wrenched from me, especially since I never got to say good-bye.
I've been to New York a few times, but never have I asked to be driven past our old house. I think we passed it once, before the people living there destroyed it. I've heard that it's just not the house it used to be, and that is very, very sad.
I'd rather remember it as it was when I was still too young to believe that anything could ever change.
posted by
Sirenayla
on June 18, 2014 at 5:35 PM
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Re:
I won't ever go back now Jim. There is no one living in it and it will be starting to fall into disrepair. I prefer now to know it when it was alive with love and warmth.
posted by
Kabu
on June 17, 2014 at 5:30 PM
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Goodness I bet it was hot under the tin,but bit I suppose that was the attic.
I love flat land, I hate losing land, but one has to be able to care for it and
here the insurance is high to protect oneself from tree falls or other unforeseen
happenings . I bet it is a very desirable building now, have you ever been back to look.
posted by
C_C_T
on June 17, 2014 at 11:01 AM
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I found it very interesting to read about the house you grew up in.
posted by
FormerStudentIntern
on June 17, 2014 at 10:16 AM
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A lovely life to see in any event love.
posted by
BC-A
on June 17, 2014 at 7:59 AM
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Strange to make those comparisons, isn't it? When my parents retired and moved to Florida, they sold my childhood home, and it would be over 10 years before I would even ride by and look at it. The thought of others living in my house was just too much. Eventually I bit the bullet and took another look, and now the spell has been broken. Life goes on. However, we can still hold on to the memories . . . 
posted by
JimmyA
on June 17, 2014 at 7:16 AM
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It's a lovely house, in the land down under. Love the part of the story
about the doors, having to work to get the key to function in the front door. Nice to read you've found your true home now. Reading you this morning sweetens my day. ☺
posted by
Pat_B
on June 17, 2014 at 3:38 AM
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That is still the way of the country folk - we use the back doors instead of the front, and chat in the kitchen more than the living room. 
posted by
adnohr
on June 17, 2014 at 1:00 AM
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Kabuiepie-:)~A great day
Welcome home love, of course I built what you asked for.
posted by
WileyJohn
on June 16, 2014 at 9:29 PM
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I can remember living in five different houses until I was five. Then from age five until I married I lived in the same house. That is the one I call home, even though it burned down years ago.
posted by
TAPS.
on June 16, 2014 at 9:25 PM
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sweet
i think i would start collecting photos of all the houses in grew up in. its a nice memory to have.
posted by
freeflyinbird
on June 16, 2014 at 9:12 PM
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I suppose those tall gables helped keep it cooler.
posted by
Ciel
on June 16, 2014 at 8:44 PM
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Kabu
It may not have had a basement, but it certainly looks like a fine, spacious house! And not everything appears to be flat - it looks like it's on a hill...
posted by
Nautikos
on June 16, 2014 at 8:24 PM
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Lovely memories you have of your childhood home Grandmummy. I could see the house just fine.
posted by
lovelyladymonk
on June 16, 2014 at 6:26 PM
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