Mom’s house…

It was an interesting afternoon. 

Aspen, Matt and the kids were here for the weekend.  As Cam, Ten and I were out in the golf cart, I noticed a young man mowing what used to be Grandma’s front yard.  There have been some very nice renovations to the house where I grew up, but I had lost track of who owned it. 

I had Cam stop (he was driving at the time) and I introduced myself to the young man who was mowing and explained that I had many times mown that very same lawn. As we visited, his wife came over, and I recognized Shelby right away as a hometown girl.

One thing led to another and we soon found ourselves enjoying part of the afternoon touring Mom’s old house, admiring all the changes that had been made.

The house is now owned by Michael and Shelby Roche who live there with their young boys Logan and Jordan.

Peg, Logan and Jordan have your old room.

Every turn, every room, every doorway handed me yet another memory.

Shelby and Michael have done an excellent job and Mom would be really pleased.

Mom would have really  loved that porch!

Some things are recognizably the same in spite of new colors, triggering many memories.

We didn’t take a lot of pics, where would we have stopped?  But I’ll attach a few.  One of them shows something that was decidedly Mom and is, after all these years, and three different owners, still there in its original spot I believe.  Do you see it?

Do you see Mom’s Purple Martin house?

The new windows and doors are really nice, a new fireplace in the southwest corner of the living room would have had Mom sitting beside it, knitting on cool winter evenings.

The wall with the arch is gone.  Living room and dining room are now one big room.  In the southeast corner of the living room, where Aspen remembers Dad always taking a nap in his recliner after lunch, wait for it….there is a recliner.  It was not difficult to picture Dad taking a nap again in that very spot.

The removed walls make much better use of the space.  I remembered the dining room, and how small it really must have been.  Its china cabinet on the north wall and the antique spinning wheel in front of the window.  If I recall, there was also another china display cabinet in that room on the south wall. 

Yet somehow, most of our family was able to be seated around her dining room table for holiday meals. Mom had the full set of Royal Albert Old Country Roses china.  It was a pattern she had picked out while visiting us in Scotland many years before while we were still in the Navy.  She was so proud of that china and being able to set a fancy table.

Mom’s ‘Weldon Ewart’ custom built kitchen cabinets remain. They are now a different color,  but remain recognizable by their shape, and configuration.  Who knew old kitchen cabinets could contain so many memories?  Remember the big food mixer that folded out to a usable counter top height?  I think she and Weldon were way ahead of their time.

The walls of the hallway that had held Dad’s gun cabinets now hold many family pictures.

The bedrooms and bathrooms are still there but now tastefully done in a modern color scheme. 

The bathroom off the kitchen held special memories.  It had also served as a darkroom where Mom and I developed our film and printed pictures.  That process now so easily handled by that device you carry in your pocket; no chemicals needed.

It was interesting listening to who was little bitty Aspen at the time, and realizing all the good memories she also had of Grandma’s house.

Mom’s touch is still evident in her screened in back porch.  I could not help but notice the old “playhouse” remains. I first remember that building as a chicken house. The fenced area in front was the chicken yard where the chickens roamed when outside.

I’ve got more memories of chickens than I can possibly share. But I can’t resist sharing one.  

As a young kid I could never figure out how a chicken whose head my Dad had just chopped off with that hatchet knew where I was standing.  For some reason the chickens with no heads seemed invariably to head right straight for me. That can be somewhat traumatic for a little kid. And then, said chicken might show up in some form or other on the dinner table. I’m sure today I’d be referred for some form of counseling. 

Maybe it’s not too late. 

You learned important things about life early, growing up in a farm family!

I always marveled that a hen still sitting, would sometimes just let you reach under her to get the fresh eggs.  I still remember how warm that was.

Shelby said that Beau and Stika also had chickens there when they owned the house.

But back to the “chicken house.”

“We” never called it the chicken house.  To us it was Fort Apache, maybe a Pony Express Station, or our dug-in position during WW2 where we fought both the Nazis, and in their turn the Japanese. We were sometimes even attacked from the air!  We even parachuted off the roof when the mission required!  It was great to see the building has survived, and It looks to be ready to endure even more fighting. 

Interestingly, all those battles we had out there?  They seemed to always conveniently end about lunch or dinner time,

The “We,” in addition to brothers Bob and Tom usually included Steve Simer and sometimes Steve Seawright. 

Great days those. 

Imagination is a wonderful thing.