This is the house I grew up in and it’s currently for sale. The house looks different than when I lived in it. We didn’t have so many flowers. Holy cow. But it still looks like my house. My old bedroom is behind the arch closest to the garage. There were Spanish style shutters inside the bedroom windows – which was a really interesting concept for a 7 or 8 year old. We eventually took them down. 
I lived there during the majority of my growing up years. My “formative years,” I guess. My best friend lived across the street and then moved next door (and gained a pool. bonus). I had several other friends that lived in the neighborhood. The street used to dead end and we always played in that field as kids. My best friend’s stinky older brother and his friend used to pick on us and throw things at us in that field. There was one tree that had a tire swing on it that we loved (and was the best tree to use as our “fort”). Oh, and one time I found a porno mag in that field. Was that ever elucidating! Eeek. (My mom found me with it and I’m sure she must have completely freaked out).
Then, in my early teens, my friends and I would sneak out of my bedroom window during sleep-overs to go tee-pee friends’ houses. Or just go meet with boys. It was innocent stuff though, thank goodness, because I got caught every time. (The darn screens on the windows were SCREWED IN and do you know how hard it is to screw them back in in the dark?) (When I got older I didn’t have to sneak out AND I learned how to not get caught when I was being ornery. But that’s a different story.)
So many memories at this house. My dad mowing the lawn every Saturday morning. Our big half Golden/half Bernard dog Shawna who we got when I was two and died when we lived there. My first ten-speed bike. My best friend and I sitting out there on the grass under the stars in 1987ish listening to our radio and crying because our parents wouldn’t let us go to the Bon Jovi concert (we were about 12 or 13). Watching the neighborhood teenagers with envy and wondering when I would be that old. Then, when I was that old, my first formal date coming to pick me up here in his ’73 Mustang fastback. I loved that car and I loved the dress I wore that night.

My old house is for sale. Somebody with kids should buy it and love it. Then their kids can have precious memories of living there like I do.

4 thoughts on “Flashback Friday – my old house

  1. I just happened to see this, totally put me in tears, and not because its 5:50am and tired. There are so many memories…some I totally forgot about until you wrote them. I miss our "fort" That was the best, wasn't it? Except for the time I fell out of it. I was humilated. There were boys there. I think Nathan. What about the time were my dad caught us sneaking a friend into my room, well duh, he needed a place to sleep for the night! Ah, the wonderful tee pee house nights. I guess kids don't do that anymore, but how much fun it was. Your mom making some delicious treats. Cookies, so forth. I so miss all that! I'm so greatful of the childhood I had. I would never trade it for the world. I still rememeber the day, just moved to Hanford, not knowing anyone and missing my friends, when I looked out my dining room window to see a girl my age, riding past my house, looking in. There she would come again, riding past. There it would turn out to be my best friend, one who I spent numerous hours upon hours with. One who knew my deepest darkest secrets. One who I am so thankful for. Like I said, I wouldn't change it for the world. Love you Stef!

  2. Awww!! Who's crying now? I remember Nathan! And Ryan Pharr lived behind the field on Aspen – remember that? Do you remember when we BOTH had broken arms in Mr. King's class? I loved our neighborhood. We had so much fun. Love you too!!

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