Hometown Monday...

Today is more like House Monday. As a kid, the house you live in can be one of the most magical places on the planet or one of those places you would rather forget about. Gratefully mine leaned toward the more magical end of things. In light of that fact I decided to write about a house I lived in when I was about five years old in Quartz Hill. I can't tell you how or why I remember this house the way I do. Maybe because it's one of the first houses I really ever remember or something special happened there that I can't quite put a finger on. At any rate this house was a two-story house off of 60th St. West and Avenue M-something or other. It was the corner house at the bottom of a culdesac. We had mostly dirt for a backyard yet somehow we managed to have plum trees that occasionally gave us eatable fruit. My dad at that time was really into rock climbing, so being the crafty man that he was and still is, constructed a 20 foot rock wall on the side of the house. It was really quite impressive the way it fit snugly between the space between our house and our neighbors fence. I remember we used to hang out in the backyard seeing how high me or my sister could climb, which usually wasn't more than a few hand holds high. For some reason I was always intrigued by two story houses and staircases. Maybe Home Alone was on my mind and I always envisioned myself sledding down and out the door. Even though if I ever would have tried that I would have ended up as a hole in the wall. I remember blue wall paper covered the majority of the walls inside. My sister and I have a funny picture of us against the wall near the kitchen, her holding the cat and me holding the dog. My family loves animals. As long as I remember we have always had some kind of critter running around the house, be it mammal, reptile or bird. I think at this particular time we just had a cat and a dog, I think the rat came into the picture a little while later. The living had a high vaulted ceiling and we had one of those old school big screen TV's. Dancing to some music video was a regular occurrence in that space when my sister and I were both still very young. There was always hide and seek, my favorite spot being the closet underneath the stairs that seemed to run like a dungeon corridor into the recesses of the house. We kept most of our blankets and sleeping bags in this particular place. If you were good enough hider and could get in touch with your chameleon side you could hide yourself so good in there the other person would eventually have to give up. Lots of giggles and fun for the one hiding and lots of frustration and annoyance for the seeker.

I think I spent the shortest time at this house than I did many of my other ones but this one has always just stuck with me and I always find myself being drawn back to thinking about it at the most random of times. I'm sure every one of you have a special house that wonderful things happened in or around that will always be your safe and happy place for those special quiet moments when no one else is around.

"Home is a place you grow up wanting to leave, and grow old wanting to get back to." ~John Ed Pearce