bethb's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- my house...is a very very very fine house my parents are selling their (our) (my) house. and they told us (myself and two brothers) via email. My brother todd was more supprised that they figured out how to use the cc: part of the email set-up than the actual realization of the imment absence of the house. The house they bought when i was two. the only house that scott and todd ever knew as 'ours'. the house i would swing out in front of on the tree, waiting for friends to drive by. the house with the hill i would sled down-and on a real good day possibly run into the willow tree. The house with the creek with the zip-line across it that we used to catch crawfish in and feed them bologna and then wonder why they'd all die. The creek i fell in (often) and ruined my 'Annie' t-shirt. The one with the sparkley iron-on letters. The house with the closets that connected which made for awesome hide and seek games. the house with the dining room that used to be a log cabin in the 1760's and still has a lot of the original floor boards. And the house with the basement that's not much taller than i am. The house that inspired many a trixie belden-type adventure in my back yard. the house with the creaky stairs and every room at a different level. the house. my house. the very best house in the entire world. the thing that makes me the sickest about this whole ordeal, is that the area has been zoned 'reaserch', so i don't think even another family could move in. i had such a great time growing up. there was a little barn that the previous owner raised chickens in. my dad turned the downstairs into his studio where he would throw pots and upstairs was our play room. i spent many a saturday in the 70's in the studio playing or painting or drawing while my dad would work on ceramics. and when i was old enough, i got to use the electric wheel. never the kick wheel. i never was able to use that. and the radio would play james taylor and steeley dan and carole king. music that i don't much care for, but i always think of it as a 'studio song'. the house where i helped my dad put the roof on the screened-in porch. the house that i know every knook and cranny and bubble and window pane. the house where i lay on the floor wishing i was watching mork and mindy while my mother read 'island of the blue dolphins' to us, and now years later, understanding how right she was. excuse me, i have to go blow my nose. xoxo beth b. 18:04:05 - 2001-03-10 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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