Home, Part 1
When you think of home, do you think of a house?
Even though we have lived in this house for just over five years, sometimes it doesn't feel really like home. I think it is because sometimes I still can't believe that we live in a small, dusty town in Texas, just on the edge of nowhere. (Seriously. We are the largest town on Interstate 10 between San Antonio and El Paso. 500 miles!)
In the home we lived in before here, there were many quirks and wonders. We had one bathroom. Our home was part of a two-family home, and we lived on the second and third floor. It was an over-one-hundred-year-old house, and had the original electrical wiring, which meant that the light switches were temperamental and took some coaxing. We had heating vents in the floor (no air conditioning), and in the winter our children would stand or lay on the vent to keep warm. The best vent was at the bottom of the stairs, so you could sit on the second step and have the warmth blow directly on you read or even took a nap (if you were tiny, like Lucy was).
We had a scary dungeon of a basement. It had an unfinished floor and was always, always musty and dark. That's where the washer and dryer were, 3 flights down from the bedrooms! I had to spend a lot of time there.
Certain things about that home were difficult: the sheer number of stairs, the small kitchen, the one bathroom. But it was charming and it was our home. It is where our children grew for six years. Lucy was just a baby when we moved there, and a kindergartner when we left. Walter was in third grade when we arrived there and about to start high school when we left. Those are formative years.
That home is where our children grew.
Even though we have lived in this house for just over five years, sometimes it doesn't feel really like home. I think it is because sometimes I still can't believe that we live in a small, dusty town in Texas, just on the edge of nowhere. (Seriously. We are the largest town on Interstate 10 between San Antonio and El Paso. 500 miles!)
In the home we lived in before here, there were many quirks and wonders. We had one bathroom. Our home was part of a two-family home, and we lived on the second and third floor. It was an over-one-hundred-year-old house, and had the original electrical wiring, which meant that the light switches were temperamental and took some coaxing. We had heating vents in the floor (no air conditioning), and in the winter our children would stand or lay on the vent to keep warm. The best vent was at the bottom of the stairs, so you could sit on the second step and have the warmth blow directly on you read or even took a nap (if you were tiny, like Lucy was).
We had a scary dungeon of a basement. It had an unfinished floor and was always, always musty and dark. That's where the washer and dryer were, 3 flights down from the bedrooms! I had to spend a lot of time there.
Certain things about that home were difficult: the sheer number of stairs, the small kitchen, the one bathroom. But it was charming and it was our home. It is where our children grew for six years. Lucy was just a baby when we moved there, and a kindergartner when we left. Walter was in third grade when we arrived there and about to start high school when we left. Those are formative years.
That home is where our children grew.
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