How far back can you go with it?
Do you remember your first dwelling?
I don't, and I have a pretty good memory. I've tried hard over the years to pull up something from this place: a room, an event, some colored wallpaper, friendly faces. But I've got nothing. I'm drawing blanks.
I entered the 'blue' at Mercy Hospital at 6:41 AM on a warm July morning. I've always been a morning person, and I blame it all on that early delivery. We lived in an apartment house on Devon Street in the area of Nasons Corner. My only real recollections of this place are contained in a 'baby book' my Mom kept, Baby Days. Some of my vital statistics were that I weighed 7 pounds 14 ounces, was 21 inches long and was delivered by Dr. Ham. I was christened at St. Joseph's Church on August 8 by Father Lappin, and there was a party in my honor at my grandparents' house in Westbrook. Later that month on the 22nd, I took a taxis ride to St. Joseph's Convent to be introduced to about a million nuns. My Dad's aunt was a nun, hence the connection. I could fill you in all kinds of other crap about my first year, but for now this will have to suffice.
Come along with me this week as I venture down memory lane and visit the houses of my youth.
Where all the 'trouble' began.
I love this post today! I wonder how many of us could do the same thing with the houses of our life?
ReplyDeletethe house my parents owned when i was a baby, was then sold to my uncle...we moved when i was really young so my only memories of it are of visiting my uncle, or pictures of me as a baby there...the house i really associate with my childhood was on 353 north pierce street, el cajon, ca ...ha, i remember...lived there from super young till the middle of 5th grade, when we moved across town...i was really upset over that move!
ReplyDeleteOh no I absolutely can't remember my first home.. First one I remember was at age four when we arrived in Central Africa.. that's not too bad actually. Your first home still looks as if someone loves it, well looked after.
ReplyDeletei was fortunate to live in my first abode for 13 yrs so have tons of memories of it. and i had 4 aunts that were nuns. yeah...
ReplyDeleteSounds like a fun ride, I'll happily follow along. I do remember the house I was born into. It's easy, I lived there for 22 years before moving west. I even remember the most garish wall paper one has ever seen. Fortunately, that wall paper was gone by the time I turned 5.
ReplyDeleteLord, I've never even back to my birthplace and have since lived in various places all around the globe. I feel luck if I can just remember my current address. :-)
ReplyDeleteGiven that I lived in my first home through most of my teen years, I remember it well.
ReplyDeleteLuv this house -- I think houses retain 'memories', so part of you is in there. And something of that house is in you. I'd want to go inside, check out all the rooms . . .
ReplyDeleteWhat a pretty house !
ReplyDeleteMy parents are still in my first house! The nuns in our family always scared me a bit - thought they were going to keep me at the convent or something! ;-)
ReplyDeletefun, you're journey to and with your memories. You DO remember alot of good stories!
ReplyDeleteAhhh, those houses are two states and a lifetime away now. My mom kept a baby book for my older brother but had baby exhaustion by the time I came along. Not much documented...
ReplyDeleteSweet looking house.
ReplyDeleteThat's an exceptionally good opening; I won't miss a chapter.
ReplyDeleteI saw my childhood home was recently sold. And it's probably going to be torn down and rebuilt with a bigger home. That's what happens these days...
ReplyDeleteI like this.
ReplyDeleteI can´t really say WHY, not in English nor in Norwegian.
I just LIKE it:)