TBT – The House

The House

My mom’s friend Anne painted this picture.  It’s the house I grew up in.  The house is now over 100 years old.  Although my parents sold it over two years ago I still consider it my home.

I grew up in this house.  It has creaky floors, drafty bathrooms and a huge rock in the basement.  It also has so many memories that it’s hard to remember them all.

Like the cow bell.  When my mom and dad were in Austria for their honeymoon they bought a cow bell.  A big ass metal cow bell.  That cow bell lived on the cabinet by the front door of this house.  It had one purpose.  When it was time for us to come home, my mom would stand on the front doorstep and ring that cow bell.  Everybody knew when they heard the cow bell that the Hamilton kids had to go home.  The cow bell had done its job.

Or the living room.  The room where my dad would have his scotch every night after work while he read the paper.  The room where the fire place would  warm us all up after being outside.  The room where we hung our Christmas stocking each Christmas.  The room where I told my parents that I was going to Europe instead of college.  The room that my son learnt how to crawl in.  The room that I used to rock out to Sonny and Cher to.  Ya, that’s right.  Sonny and Cher.

stockings 2

Then there’s the kitchen.  The tiny kitchen that somehow produced enough food for many, many parties, Thanksgivings and birthdays. I can’t remember how old I was when we finally got a dishwasher.  After dinner there were three jobs to do in the kitchen.  Wash, dry or feed the cat.  Accidents happened in that kitchen.  Typically after too much wine.  I learnt how to cook with my mom in that kitchen.  Typically after too much wine.  Wait,did I say that already?

My dad’s study.  The tiny room at the top of the stairs.  Boiling hot in the summer but holy crap what a view he had.  If you climbed out the window you were at the top of fire escape.  When the door was closed we knew to be quiet.  The dreams that were hatched from that tiny room have helped my family be who they are today.  The black rotary phone on the mahogany desk that my dad used to make endless calls getting his business up and running.  Funny how the smallest room in the house may have had the biggest impact.

Perhaps the best part of the house wasn’t even in the house.

The yard.  The tree in the back that my sister fell out of and broke her arm.  The metal pallets that we would put the wading pool on so the water would warm up faster.  The thousands of rocky holes and nooks and crannies where my parents hid foil covered Easter eggs every year for us and then for our kids.  The steep driveway that you had to take a run at to get out of if it snowed.  The cherry tree that we could reach from my sisters bedroom window on a warm summer day.

yard

I wonder sometimes as I write these posts if anybody is even interested in my old house? But then I think that one day I will be old (er) and maybe I won’t be able to remember all the great things about the house.

The Best Thing in Life is going to be reading this years from now and smiling the same way I am smiling today.

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7 thoughts on “TBT – The House

  1. camparigirl March 10, 2016 / 8:51 pm

    I have a drawing of the house my mother grew up in and I cherish it. The house is still in the family but it has fallen into disrepair after a major earthquake a few years ago. Memories of past houses can be very haunting. I still dream of the house I grew up in.

    • bestthingsinlife1964 March 10, 2016 / 9:23 pm

      Whoever bought the house has not lived in it and it is surrounded by weeds. My dad does go back every once in a while and picks flowers and apples. I’ve not been back to see it.

  2. Miriam March 11, 2016 / 9:23 am

    I enjoyed reading this 🙂 It’s so different from the way I have lived- I’ve moved around so much and my parents moved frequently too. We did have a summer cottage that was a constant through my growing up years, but even that was sold when I was a teen. How lucky you are to have a place that was truly *home* for you. Now I’m curious- have you stayed in the same house as an adult? I’m fascinated by the different ways that people live, staying put vs. moving around.

    • bestthingsinlife1964 March 11, 2016 / 2:20 pm

      We’ve lived in this house for 13 years and I would stay here forever. My husband moved a lot as a kid and he would move tomorrow if the opportunity arose. Funny huh?

  3. candidkay March 11, 2016 / 3:01 pm

    Oh, how I wish my mother had a cowbell! She used to yell for me–and her yelling was a bit out of pitch:). More like yodeling. It sounds like some very lovely memories were made in that house. I hope the family there now is making the same:).

    • bestthingsinlife1964 March 11, 2016 / 3:52 pm

      Unfortunately whoever bought it is not living in it and it is sitting empty growing weeds in the beautiful yard. My dad goes back regularly to pick flowers and apples though so not a total loss.

      • candidkay March 11, 2016 / 5:15 pm

        Oh, that is so sad! I know with my childhood home, I was happy then another young family had moved into it. I’ve driven by a couple times and it is really nice to see a playset at the end of the driveway.

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