Monday, March 29, 2010

1528 Coal Ave S.W. 1950's

I've been having some really strange dreams lately. The kind that stay with you most of the day. Most all of the dreams have to do with the house I grew up in. I don't have any idea why I am dreaming about 1528 Coal SW, telephone number Chapel 31551 but I am.

Maybe it's cuz I am older than dirt, maybe because I am watching the grands grow up and realize that childhood is such a fleeting thing, maybe because there is a message but I don't know.

We moved into that house when I was 3. Tiny little bugger of a place but bigger than the house we had just moved from. My earliest memory of childhood is how the faucets worked in the bathroom. The handles were those X shaped things and they worked backwards to the way all others work. You know the phrase righty tighty, lefty loosey...well backwards to that. I can remember getting in trouble for letting the water run, run and run.

The phone was in a little alcove in the wall at the end of the hall. Big, black, 50's bakelite plastic thing with a cloth covered cord. I would watch it while it rang thinking that it was going to jiggle the receiver like on the Tom and Jerry cartoons. I always felt sorry for Tom. My grands laughed at me when I told them that. I also cried when Tweetie would get the best of Sylvester. My sister, 13 years older than me was so embarrassed one time when she took me to the picture show (yep that's what folks from Tenn. call it), that she took me out of the theater during the cartoon because I had had a good cry over the poor puddy tat.

I've told you before how my Brother would pay me to annoy my Sister. She was easily frustrated and I musta been really good at it too. Poor puddy tat.

I have such vivid memories of my childhood, whereas Sweet Man has little or no memory of being a kid. I wonder why that is? Shelley also has limited memory of being little. How about you? Vivid, plain or none existant?

Here are the things I remember most vividly......The huge weeping willow in the backyard (place to get the switch to get whipped with), the apple tree in the corner where I would sit and talk to the little girl (with one green eye and one blue eye and half her hair blond and half her hair brown) that lived behind us (she and I ran away one time together), the crawl space under the house where I kept all my really secret treasures. The jig jog alcove in my closet where I was sure no one would ever find my diary. The front hall closet which, when my Mom and Dad would go out smelled like the fur coat my Mom had, I know cuz that's where I hid from my sister. The sweet william flowers on the back patio that attracted the Monarch butterflies I would watch, catch and make a wish on. The bbq grill my Daddy Jack built on one of his only visits to NM. One side was for storing wood, the other side was a dog house for my cocker spaniel named Lady (one of four Lady's we had). My tuxedo kitty named Boots who loved to sit and watch our parakeet Skipper. And my Mom's pink and turquoise kitchen with a dishwasher that had a window in the top of it so you could sit on the counter and watch the water spray inside.

Terrible thing is...someday that's probably where dementiaI will have me full time, back in the past and I'm already there some days. If it weren't funny I'd be scared. At this point it just frustrates me that I can't sketch it....my childhood. I would love to be able to show someone else what is inside my head.....maybe not, that too is scary.

5 comments:

  1. I have incredibly memories of childhood - My mom always lamented how her childhood was miserable and High School was the worst 4 years of her life and I always thought I had the greatest time and loved HS. I had the best friends and a great house and neighborhood to run around in.

    I laughed at the willow tree switches. My grandmother would make us go out to the forsythia bush and pick our switch - now you didn't want to pick to small because you would have to go back out [the agony] or too big because that sucker would hurt, right? Funnily enough she never hit us but it took us years to figure out the mind game she played. [and I don't mean it is funny you got switched - just my memory cracks me up and my Grandma was quite the astute woman]

    I remember the pink/turq. kitchens but have never seen a dishwasher like that. I told the kidlets about it and they both said "I want one!" To tell the truth - me too - how cool is THAT!

    Love the memories. Thanks for sharing.

    vert. word: Buked - [sorry if this is gross, but] vomitting while on a bicycle - heehee ;)

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  2. Oh yes, I remember many, many things about my childhood - mostly everyday rather minor incidents like catching bees in an old fruit jar with holes in the lid so they would live. Us kids would put clover in for them to eat and toothpicks dipped in honey. Funny that I never once got stung. We had visions of having a bee circus at some point but never got them trained quite right.

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  3. Hi Linda, I want to let you know that I have given you the sunshine award - you can pick it up to pass on at my blog.

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  4. Funny, my mother and I were talking about our family yesterday. I have so many memories, like the time when we were camping outside of Cloudcroft, NM, and my dad always took his morning constitution in the tent with our little port-a-potty. I was taking my little brother, then about a year old, walking up the hill when I heard, "G-d-d-m--t, s-h-t!!" The potty had collapsed and of course there was "sludge" on the floor of our tent, the kids side of course, and my mother and I were howling at the memory...btw, we told my Dad he was to sleep on our side from now on!!

    I have memories of the 3 houses we lived in...soo many memories and I hope my old age takes me back to our little house on Arizona Street...had wonderful little friends there.

    In 1980, right before my grandmother passed away at 93, I went over to my aunts to help her a bit with my "Machita." She was pretty much gone after all the strokes she had, but there were moments of lucidity, sort of. She asked me to take her to the bathroom and I held her up to walk just a few feet from her bedroom. She insisted I put her coat on and take the broom stick. I had no idea what she was going on about. She became very irritated with me so I got the coat and put it on her shoulders and asked my aunt's maid to get me the broom stick. I took her to the bathroom and she asked me to check for spiders and other creepy-crawlies...then it hit me, she thought she was back home in her little town of Pitiquito, Sonora, Mexico and was going to the outhouse...God bless her!

    Well, I have more that I can write, but no matter, got to get my day started.

    Love ya mucho, B&G,
    G

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  5. Memories, that is all we really have Linda. Good or bad they stay with us forever. I too remember our house at 196 Cunningham Avenue and lots of stories to tell. In fact I do believe I wrote about it once about a year and a half or so ago. Who knows I forgot already. Tee Hee! Take care. I'm trying to catch up on my favorite blogs because I haven't had the time to stop at all of them. Take care.

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