Being somewhat sentimental, I think I am going to enjoy
sharing a few memories with Retired not tired Memory Monday.
Come join in with your own memories each week to encourage
the writing of them, then link your memories to share with everyone.
Today's first is My First Home.
However, having just got in on this, I have decided to include the first memory as well.
My First MemoryOnly yesterday my sister and I were discussing this. My first memory is from the street where we lived when I was almost 3. I remember the inside of our house, but don't remember the colors. I remember the day they brought my baby sister home that I cried and threw a hissy fit. Oh, color me sad that day. :-) (I love my sister very much.) Whether I had missed my Mom while she was at the hospital or whether jealousy provoked the tears, I'm not sure. Also my memories from this street were trips to the little store on the corner with my Mom, and sitting on the counter while the young lady in the store painted my toenails. One last memory was that of a toddler on the street carrying a very heavy, smelly load in his diaper and walking around oblivious to it! Strange memory. :-)
I don't have any pics of that house of my first memory, but I do have a pic of my Mom, my sister and me in front of the car in front of the house.
My First HomeI recently posted a couple of photos of my first home. Because of my husband's new job, we were moving from San Antonio to the Dallas area, and had only a couple of weekends in early October to find a new home. After trekking through many houses, and confusion reigning from different floor plans and house styles, we just happened to walk into a newly built house where the builder was sitting inside. We struck up a conversation with him and learned that he was a retired engineer from Texas Instruments and this was the first home he had undertaken to build. Henry Lane had put great care into the building of the home for another couple, but the deal had just fallen through for them. I was soooooo very excited that this might be the one for us, even though the price range was a little more than we had planned on spending.
It was 1973 and the colors were warm yellows and orange, the thick shag carpet was pale yellow and tan. The family room with a wood burning fireplace was huge (to me) with its cathedral ceiling and beams, portrait paneling and French doors. The wonderful kitchen with copper tone appliances and walnut cabinets just felt like home, even empty. When he told us he would put in a fence for us, we made a deal.
Looks like I'm getting ready to bake something in my nice yellow kitchen!! :-)
Isn't it funny how desirable colors evolve over the years?
I would not want a yellow and orange kitchen now!
Having grown up in very small houses, I had never dreamed I would live in such a spacious house. To think of two people living in a house just under 2,000 square feet was unbelievable. It was home for 30 years and I could go on and on about the sweet memories made there. I was so thankful to be able to keep this home after my husband passed away. When I later remarried, it was a relief to me that DH was fine with living there until I was ready to move on.
After we did move away, I cried and cried for months and I still have a sentimental attachment to that house. I'm very happy and content where we live now, but there is just something about that first house that feels as though it still belongs to me. So every now and again, I have to drive by when I'm in the neighborhood to "see how it's getting along" and if the present owners are taking care of it.
See the little house with the chimney and the rock building beside it? The rock building is a garage with a tiny apartment above it. That is where I was born, so TECHNICALLY, that is my first home! And the little wooden house there was where my Granny and Grandad lived. Someday I will have to tell the very sad story about the end of this little house and how grateful I am for the way God works in our lives.
|With my Aunt Nancy and her dog|
|My Dad, Mom and me.|