Friday, December 16, 2005
startling photo from my uncle in galesburg
The big white barn-shaped house. Summer weekends and Holiday visits. A familiar smell. A blend of chicken, that perfume with the swan on it, cleanliness and old furniture. The big red white and blue oval rug woven from scraps.
The dark little tv room with a big rocking chair and a drafty window that always seem to have snow outside it.
The cold linoleum hallway upstairs. The bedroom my brother and I stayed in, with two twin beds, a crucifix with palm, and the clown music boxes on the dresser. The one small bathroom with Dove soap and a backscrubber.
The upstairs closet with a mystery door in the back, which I found out later led to an old staircase that went down to the kitchen and let out where the refrigerator was. I always wanted to open that door, but never did.
There was one of those outside storm door entrances to the cellar. The doors went down from the porch to the backyard like a ramp. And we had to run down them over and over again. Maybe I got too big for that game, or maybe the old wooden doors got too old for that game, but one day I fell through them.
My dad gave me a tour of the basement once. It was stone and old and had ancient shelving with who knows what on it. He explained the coal room, a small room with ashes all over the floor.
There was the telephone stand which always had coloring books and crayons in it. There were always pears just for me. And cranberry relish at thanksgiving because I didn't like the stuff from the can. And the fig cookies!!!
The fig cookies are still around.
But the big white barn-shaped house with the creaky floors and mystery passageway? The place where my dad grew up?
The dark little tv room with a big rocking chair and a drafty window that always seem to have snow outside it.
The cold linoleum hallway upstairs. The bedroom my brother and I stayed in, with two twin beds, a crucifix with palm, and the clown music boxes on the dresser. The one small bathroom with Dove soap and a backscrubber.
The upstairs closet with a mystery door in the back, which I found out later led to an old staircase that went down to the kitchen and let out where the refrigerator was. I always wanted to open that door, but never did.
There was one of those outside storm door entrances to the cellar. The doors went down from the porch to the backyard like a ramp. And we had to run down them over and over again. Maybe I got too big for that game, or maybe the old wooden doors got too old for that game, but one day I fell through them.
My dad gave me a tour of the basement once. It was stone and old and had ancient shelving with who knows what on it. He explained the coal room, a small room with ashes all over the floor.
There was the telephone stand which always had coloring books and crayons in it. There were always pears just for me. And cranberry relish at thanksgiving because I didn't like the stuff from the can. And the fig cookies!!!
The fig cookies are still around.
But the big white barn-shaped house with the creaky floors and mystery passageway? The place where my dad grew up?
# posted by ironstef @ 8:19 AM 
