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Our House

May 14, 2012

Blame Our House, not my house, for the rise of Shannen Doherty.

I hope this won’t disappoint you.

Because this is not a post about Chad Allen.  Or even Wilford Brimley for that matter.

This is actually about our house — my family’s house.  And about my childhood house too.

Maybe you’ve heard I’m sentimental?

I once wrote a post entirely on baloney sandwiches.  Which I haven’t eaten since 1989.  There.  See?

And you don’t even know the half of it.

Take for example, our house.  Our beloved house.  We bought it soon after we were married.  My husband was in grad school and waiting tables.  I was working as a legislative aide, making $21,000 a year.

We fell in love with our house right away.  You just know, you know?

And ten years, five promotions, four three pets and two kids later, here we are.  Still.

We’ve tweaked this and that.  We’ve remodeled, built in and added on.  We’ve even talked about adding up — but then we’d be insane.  But speaking of insane, we’ve also added an above-ground storm shelter — for the woman with tornado-induced PTSD.

We love our house.  We love the midcentury fireplace and the Dick Van Dyke Show flavor.  We love the tree-lined yard and the neighbors who talk over fences.

But we don’t love the quirky oven and the stove burners that fold out from the wall.  And we don’t love the thought of tearing them out and spending two months eating from a microwave.

Our house is only one and a half bath, meaning we share a bathroom with booger-encrusted children.  There’s no basement either, so no place for hoarding unsightly crap.  (Which is what basements are for.  Crap.)

Our house also smells like old people.  No matter how many candles we burn.  And, worse, we don’t even notice it smells like old people — until we come home after a long vacation.

But yet it always still feels good to come home.

We’ve thought about moving out and moving on.  We don’t have to sell the house, we tell ourselves.  We can keep it and rent it out — a win-win!

But then there’s the thought of someone trashing our wood floors or some snot-nosed brat writing “fart” on the wall — and it stops us right in our tracks.

Do not let this child live in your home. [Image source:]

Because, damnit, if anyone is going to trash our wood floors, it’ll be us!  And if any snot-nosed brat is going to write “fart” on the wall, it’ll be ours!

Damn straight.

Maybe all of this house nonsense has to do with the emotional baggage I still lug around.

Long, long ago, this house broke my heart.

It might’ve been my first love.  And I don’t think I ever got over it.

My family moved in when I was three, about the moment I learned to ride a tricycle.  We moved out when I was nine, about the moment I learned that life can suck.

Here is the house where I learned to ride a two-wheeler.

Here is the house where my brother learned to ride a 10-speed.

I lost my first tooth here.  (Well, not right here.)  Which I’m happy to show you right here.

And right here again.  (My hands are next to my face to remind you to look at my mouth.)

I made my first best friend here.  She lived one house away.  We’d play and fight and play and fight, with many walks back and forth through the neighbors’ yard in between playing and fighting.  And biting.  (The biting was all her.)

Here is the house where we took shelter on the night a tornado touched down.  Here is where the tornado hit.  Here is my mom.  (Hi, Mom.)

And here is where we rebuilded and, later, repainted it blue.

Here is where I had my ceremonial send-off before my first day of school.

And here is where family gathered — family I haven’t seen in years.

And I haven’t even mentioned all the memories from the inside of the house.

So when I think about moving from our house today, I don’t think so much about leaving walls and a fireplace or even the quirky stove I resent.  I think about leaving us, the lives we’ve created here the past ten years.

Oh, I don’t know.  Maybe we need to find a bigger house.  Maybe I’ll change my mind soon.  Maybe I’ll get over it, you know, all this nostalgia gobbledygook.  Maybe I need to find a hobby, a thing to fill this sentimental spot in my heart.

Maybe I need to take up scrapbooking?

And, hey, I need a basement for that crap.

70 Comments leave one →
  1. May 14, 2012 6:27 am

    Houses absorb everything in our hearts – our hopes, our fears, our joy and our sorrow. They are like warehouses for all this intangible stuff, that isn’t easily transferred by box and truck to new places. I moved a lot as a kid, but from 6 to 12 I lived in one house and for the rest of my life this house has shown up in my dreams. Sometimes I find new things in the old house, like secret rooms and once a train that ran along the ceiling of one room on a suspended track. Even now about a century later I still dream about this particular house. I think our souls just get rooted.

    • May 15, 2012 3:36 pm

      Pure poetry! You should’ve written this post, Lori-Ann. Very nicely put. And interesting that you brought up that you still dream about your childhood home and find new rooms and objects in there. I dream about my old house, along with my grandparents’ old house. Strangely, most of my dreams are set in a time and place from way back.

  2. May 14, 2012 6:38 am

    Ah this sounded like one of those final voice-over morals from the Wonder Years (which is the highest form of compliments in my book by the way – I loved – LOVED – the Wonder Years!).

    I know what you mean though. When I was 18 (I think) my father finally moved out of the appartement we had lived for ever, where I had day-dreamed about teenage heartbreaks – forged my fathers signature on my math test – cried, laughed, sulked, sang very loud and very false in a high pitched semi-soprano (the usual) and where my mother had passed away in the bathtub.

    Weirdly it was a relief know they were going to remodel the entire appartement and tear everything out. I really wouldn’t have wanted someone else using that bathroom. Somehow it would have seemed sacriligious – like reading mickey mouse during sunday mass (although maybe worse, because I did the mickey mouse reading a lot!).

    Thanks for letting us inside(well not too much inside I guess), outside and around your house :)

    • May 15, 2012 3:38 pm

      Thanks, Special K. What a compliment that is!

      I didn’t realize your mother passed away in your home. That brings about another layer to your emotional connection there. I don’t know how I’d feel about leaving all of that.

      “…teenage heartbreaks…” Maybe this is why I don’t miss my old home from the later childhood years.

      • May 16, 2012 3:06 pm

        Yeah it was akward. I know it was a necessary step for my father to make though (he should have moved out years ago – he’s been much happier since).

        And somehow, now, I feel like it was a healthy step for me to. I mean I had already moved out long ago (around when I was 16), but still his move made it final.

        I’m not sure it’s healthy living with ghosts, you know.

        But like I said, I’m really glad they tore everything out. I think it’s kind of like breaking up with a boyfriend (weird comparison I know): You know you need to move on, but you don’t really want to see them with the next Jane-Doe on their arm any time soon.

        Ah well, houses are a funny thing: So many stories. Good thing they can’t blab them to anyone ;)

      • May 18, 2012 6:13 am

        Breaking up, indeed. At least my house and I will always have Paris.

        I’m glad your dad’s move was for the best for everyone.

  3. May 14, 2012 6:47 am

    My husband and I lived in our first house for five years, knowing it wasn’t our “forever” house. We didn’t fix it up. We didn’t dare do anything to it. But both kids were born there and there were a lot of memories there. When we decided we were indeed staying here for the long haul, we bought a bigger house with a bigger yard, more storage space, a perfect street for riding bikes. When I walked in one last time to my son’s room, I broke apart. But that same day, going forward in our new house, it was exciting all the same. We’ve been here six years now and we’ve made some great memories. Home is where you make it. And it’s anywhere the four of us are together. You’ll know if or when the time is right.

    • May 15, 2012 3:42 pm

      Great perspective. We didn’t think this would be our forever home either. What happened? It does contain a special something, a warm aura I can’t put my finger on. Other people note it too. And then, we intend to have it paid off in a year or two. I’d love to upgrade but then we’d have to go back to having a mortgage again. But oh what I’d give for a bathroom of my own! And a basement! And walk-in closets! I’m convinced however that we’ll never have a backyard as pretty as this one.

  4. May 14, 2012 6:49 am

    “We’ve even talked about adding up — but then we’d be insane.”—Oh no. Why is adding up insane? Kiefer and I have been looking at houses for months and can’t seem to find one we really like, and last night he said, “Maybe we should add another level to this one?” Now I’m afraid. Very, very afraid.

    • May 15, 2012 3:45 pm

      Yes, very insane. Don’t do it. Nooooo! We live in a ’50s ranch neighborhood and an architect added up to a house down the street from us. It looks so completely blow-your-mind funkadelic awesome. Another ranch house in the neighborhood added up and it looks like obnoxious Extreme Home Makeover house with Ty Pennington emceeing it in a sleeveless flannel shirt and everything. Just avoid buying a house to begin with and I think you’ll be better off.

  5. May 14, 2012 6:54 am

    We’re in the process of looking at houses and it sucks with a capital UCK. We are very attached to our house, but it’s location leaves much to be desired. We moved in eight years ago and still haven’t completed painting the hallway. I think that’s what’s keeping us from actively searching…we have to finish that hallway. Maybe I could cover it with pages from a scrapbook?

    • May 15, 2012 3:53 pm

      I love those unfinished home renovation projects. I think we’ve had the ugly wall paper in our laundry room partially ripped up for the past four years. There’s probably lead paint seeping out into my clean towels at this very moment.

      Good luck with your house search. I say aim low and buy a camper. Then park it in the lot of your choice. Location-location-location.

  6. May 14, 2012 7:43 am

    My husband and I are still living in our first home, a tiny cottage. It’s got one bedroom and one bathroom. We’re going to have to move soon because eventually, my daughter will want her own bedroom. But we don’t want to. Our cottage is adorable! And sweet! And we planted so many gardens! I will miss this little house when we leave.

    • May 15, 2012 3:56 pm

      I feel that way about our house! It’s adorable and I still want to pinch its cheeks and tell it how cute it is. *Sigh.* When you plant things, it makes it even harder to leave. We just put in a rain garden last year and I’ll be damned if I don’t see this thing grow.

  7. May 14, 2012 8:28 am

    I feel the same way about my childhood home – thank heaven for photos. Yours are great.

    I think, that with dilemmas like these, scales eventually tip, when they are ready to do so…when/if it’s time to move on, you’ll know. And I think moving when you’re a kid (like you seem to have done) does create some good memory landmarks and helps you mark time…

    • May 15, 2012 3:58 pm

      Very interesting — I love that idea of our houses (and events) being memory landmarks to help mark time as a kid.

  8. May 14, 2012 8:30 am

    We moved out of our first house four years ago. There were four of us in 900 square feet, and Squish was on the way. I love my new house, but the middle one still waxes all poetical-like over the old one. Even though he had to share a room with his sister and we only had one closet in the entire place. The yard was to die for. And when you’re a kid, that’s all you want out of life.

    • May 15, 2012 4:01 pm

      Oh, Squish! I love how having kids throws all kinds of crazy dilemmas in your way. Our yard right now is like a park. It’s perfect. I know we’ll never find a better than this yard. My kids can spend hours looking for bugs under the rocks. And if you’re committed to getting your kids outside, I guess you can see a nice yard as a deal-maker.

  9. beck16 permalink
    May 14, 2012 9:29 am

    when i was 4 my parents moved to jackson street, where i grew up. that house holds all of my childhood memories. the fireplace that cuddled me every christmas eve where i’d fall asleep waiting for santa. my parents bedroom where i spent alot of weekends laughing at billy bobs drive in. the living room with the white couch that i’d plop down on after swimming all day at the public pool. the backyard that held my swingset and later my trampoline. they sold the house when i was 31. i cried for days. i didn’t tell them tho, because i’m sure it was just as hard for them, if not harder. i still refuse to drive down that street when i’m in town.

    • May 15, 2012 4:04 pm

      Aw, what great memories! And the “cried for days” part makes me think perhaps it was better my parents didn’t hold on to our old house any longer. I can’t imagine losing a place you’d lived in nearly your entire life!

  10. May 14, 2012 10:14 am

    As grown-up, rational adults, it’s so important to remember those feelings. Because that’s how our kids feel about the place THEY grow up. To them it’s not an investment, it’s not a granite-countered kitchen, it’s not more bathrooms – it’s the home of their childhood for all of their lives.

    Lovely, Angie!

    • May 15, 2012 4:06 pm

      Thanks, Peg. Very nice thoughts. Although, I still better get that granite-countered kitchen. The only problem is that I need to find somewhere to live then for two months so I don’t have to eat from a microwave. Maybe we can move in with you for a while?

  11. Emily Liston permalink
    May 14, 2012 10:30 am

    You are definitely on to something…we have moved 3 times in 8 years. In all three houses, I’ve had a super long list of s#*t I wanted to change. And hated. And then after we moved, I’d get all misty eyed about the places, and my husband is like, “what the…I thought you hated it there” and I’m like, “oh but we did this and this and blah blah blah.” and he really doesn’t seem to get it. Glad that you (and your readers) seem to get it exactly. :)

    • May 15, 2012 4:07 pm

      Thanks, Emily. You’re turning me around here. I was getting on to the “move on and move out” page and now I’m back to “stay put forever”.

  12. Tony permalink
    May 14, 2012 10:42 am

    Have you seen our house today? I’ll do a google search and see if I can get you photo…

    • May 15, 2012 4:08 pm

      I can’t believe how huge the trees are! The yard looks amazing. I would miss not having all those open alfalfa fields that used to surround it. Those were the best entertainment as a kid.

  13. May 14, 2012 12:56 pm

    We are about to put our house on the market (it’s the house we raised teenagers in, so family house number two). It was hard selling family house number one, and this post is reminding me of how hard it will be to close the door one last time on family house number two. But then I think we’ll have photos and memories and lots of money to travel with. :-)

    • May 15, 2012 4:12 pm

      I think having extra money would be a good reason to sell! This is what’s hard for us about selling. We hope to have our mortgage paid off in two years and it’ll be hard to start a new mortgage. Maybe we can all just buy RVs and travel together? I think they make those things with walk-in closets, granite counter-tops and wet bars now. It’d be an upgrade for me.

  14. Emily permalink
    May 14, 2012 1:01 pm

    1. Better for a kid to write “fart” on the wall than a certain other four-letter word that starts with F……..and better pencil than permanent marker–that was pencil, right?

    2. Angie, are you moving?

    • May 15, 2012 4:14 pm

      1. I’m partial to “fart” myself.
      2. Who the hell knows. I don’t even know what I’m making for dinner tonight.

  15. May 14, 2012 1:20 pm

    Oh, this was great (very happy it wasn’t all about Wilford…) Loved every single picture you posted. I giggled at your description of your best friend, fighting and biting and running between houses etc. I had the same kind of relationship with my best friend! Oh, childhood, so magical!

    I grew up in my great-grandma’s old house and I lived there for the better part of 25 years. To say it had memories is putting it mildly. I still dream about it constantly. You’ll love this story: L.L. Bean’s bought the house after my dad died and MOVED it. (we lived right next door to their retail store and now the retail store sits where my house was) They took the roof off and moved it on a giant truck through town and carried it all the way to another town 40 minutes away where it still stands. Can you say bizarre watching your childhood bedroom trucking on down Main street? Someday I want to revisit it, but I’m afraid I won’t recognize it anymore.

    • May 15, 2012 8:38 pm

      Yes, what’s a young friendship without the biting?

      I remember your story about L.L Bean! I didn’t know all the details though, I didn’t know it was uprooted and taken to another location. That is wild. Cannot imagine my childhood home becoming something else entirely. That blows my mind. What do they use it for, office space? I hope. I think if I were to imagine my childhood home as made into actual retail space, with people sifting through racks of fleece jackets where I once ate breakfast and such, that would just feel wrong.

  16. May 14, 2012 1:52 pm

    oh, i felt this was about my grandparent’s house. It was the coolest house with so many memories. held some of the best halloween parties for the grandkids, as well as easter egg hunts and my grandpa dressing up as santa. whenever my husband and i go back that way we drive past it… like maineiac said, i still dream about that place, too.

    great post!

    • May 15, 2012 8:42 pm

      Thanks, Simple Life. Your grandparents hosted Halloween parties? How cool were they! I still dream about my grandparents’ house as well. It was also a pretty great house, with a big brick fireplace and a crazy spiral staircase up to an ever-intriguing loft. Someone bought it and remodeled it, and it’s now an urban contemporary house. I’ve only heard it described to me and would love to see it sometime.

  17. May 14, 2012 5:17 pm

    I don’t know how you do it, but you make me want to look through old photographs. Which is weird because I try not to remember any of that stuff. Maybe it’s cuz of Mother’s Day. Once again, salute to your mother the shutterbug.
    Good stuff.

    • May 15, 2012 8:44 pm

      Aw, Les, that’s about the best compliment you could ever give me — that you actually want to think back to the past for a moment, even if it’s to remember back to the days where you were writing for Hustler magazine and living high on the fat hog of life. I think you better dig for those photos. Well, not the Hustler ones.

  18. Davis permalink
    May 14, 2012 9:53 pm

    You’ve touched a nerve with your readers–especially this one. Our house of 40 years is now on the market–so I know whereof you write. Don’t get me started . . .
    (I would have liked, however, a little more mention of Wilford Brimely who had that great scene near the end of “Absence of Malice.”)

    • May 15, 2012 8:47 pm

      Oh, wow! Really? 40 years? How do your kids feel about that? I hope you all are planning a giant shindig before you leave, let your house go out in style.

      I can’t imagine Wilford Brimley as anything but a crotchedy grandpa, nor would I want to.

  19. Jesse m permalink
    May 14, 2012 10:23 pm

    Awww! Memories!! I see my old house in the background too!!! I saw your old house a few years back when I took a sentimental drive through the old neighborhood, I think they fenced in your back yard! I find that offensive! Ha.

    • May 15, 2012 8:48 pm

      Yep, there’s your house alright. I can almost see Turkey trolling along in the background, keeping watch over her flock.

      Fence? What a travesty. No one had fences there when we were kids. That is offensive.

  20. Teresa Cleveland Wendel permalink
    May 14, 2012 10:36 pm

    I love that you’ll admit that your house smells like old people, and that if anyone is going to write fart on the wall, it damn well better be your kid.

    • May 15, 2012 8:51 pm

      My neighbor recently corrected me that my house smells like an old house and not old people. So less rest home smell and more musty wood smell. Way better.

  21. russelllindsey permalink
    May 15, 2012 8:40 am

    Reblogged this on Ramblings of a Misguided Blonde and commented:
    I’m not sure how Angie Z. is able to strike up such vivid nostalgic memories week after week. I’m so grateful I grew up in the same house most of my childhood, ages 3-18. I deeply love that house and would be very upset if my parents ever sold it to someone outside our family.

    • May 15, 2012 8:58 pm

      Thanks, Lindsey. In order to keep all these nostalgic memories in my noggin, I’ve had to dump virtually every bit of important matter that I’ve learned over the past three decades. It’s just the price you have to pay in order to remember all eight kids’ names from Eight is Enough.

      The fact that your parents still live in your childhood home is a rarity!

      • russelllindsey permalink
        May 15, 2012 9:10 pm

        It is a rarity. It helps that it is right near their business, a campground and canoe livery, which was a huge, huge part of my childhood. My brother is going to take over the business someday, so I doubt my parents are going to go anywhere. My other childhood home was actually on the site of their other campground. My grandpa originally bought the land back in the 60s.

        I love that house, the land, and the business.

        By the way, I completely agree about the memory thing. I know all kinds of random trivia about the Beatles, but easy forget anything of any real value ;)


      • May 15, 2012 9:15 pm

        Wow, to live on a campground! Sounds amazing.

      • russelllindsey permalink
        May 15, 2012 9:15 pm

        I had an amazing childhood, eb

      • russelllindsey permalink
        May 15, 2012 9:17 pm

        I definitely had an amazing childhood Angie. I grew up working with my parents and grandparents – my Dad’s Mom and Step-Dad. My greatest dream is to write a series of books on my childhood. It was that much fun – and that unique.


    • May 16, 2012 5:48 am

      Lindsey, I think you should write about growing up on a campsite. That`s just amazing. What a great childhood. I am sure others would enjoy living it vicariously through a book or even a blog. Did you save alot of photos from that time?

  22. May 15, 2012 4:12 pm

    Good giggly wiggly, can I relate to this story? Yes, I can.
    First, Rob and I are in the same house we bought when we married. Rob is not a man of change, and I am lazy. I am glad we like our house so much, because i doubt we will ever move.
    Second, I still miss the house I lived in from age 6 until age 15. Angie, it was tje best house ever, down to the shag carpet that my sister and I used to rake. Seriously. It was our bedroom. Oh AND it had a basement.. for crap!

    • May 15, 2012 9:03 pm

      At first I thought you were referring to Uncle Wiggly, which happens to be on my top ten favorite childhood board game. But anyway. Moving on . . .

      I hate packing and I hate moving. I’ve moved more times in my life than I can count so staying put in our house another 10 years sounds appealing to me too.

      I recall the shag carpet in my great aunt’s house was practically a toy in and of itself. Hooray for shag carpet! “Oh AND it had a basement…” Okay, now you’re just making stuff up. Shag carpet and a basement. This can’t be real.

      • May 15, 2012 9:28 pm

        Oh my gosh!!! We had the Uncle Wiggly game, Angie! And, I kid you not – it was one of my favorites. Holy smokes, is that game still around? I want to share it with my boys. (Sorry boys)

        Do you really exist, Angie? The gems you have and expose make me question your existence. Seriously… Uncle Wiggle? Who else knew about that game?! I swear I thought we were the only ones to have it. Wow.

        Oh, we had a pool, too. In ground pool. My brother broke his foot on the diving board in 5 places. True. I should write about it.

      • May 15, 2012 11:09 pm

        Why did I know that you would probably have Uncle Wiggly? I loved that game. And I had frickin’ nightmares about that creepy Skeezicks dude. I love that Uncle Wiggly was suffering from rheumatoid arthritis. What in the world kind of rest home game was this?

        You had a pool? And I’m the one who is not real? You had a pool? Next you’re going to tell me you had a backyard trampoline next to the pool. Then I’ll have to be retroactively envious of you.

  23. May 15, 2012 6:12 pm

    There are houses and then there are homes. It sounds like you have a home. When my husband and I first wed we were renting. They wouldn’t let us buy the house we were in so we set off on our hunt. We found a nice place but it didn’t have that permanent feel of home because there wasn’t enough room for the family we would grow into. We are in our home now and it’s hard to image moving. We went up north to look at homes when his company was moving. Nothing felt right. Instead he became unemployed for a time and we stayed right where we are at.

    You’ll know what to do and when to do it when the time is right.

    • May 15, 2012 9:08 pm

      Thanks, Debra. I’m glad you two found a house that feels like home. It’s almost as hard as choosing a spouse, for crying out loud. I can’t think of any inanimate object that I’ve ever put such emotion into purchasing.

  24. May 16, 2012 12:07 am

    Great post… I love it ;) I’m playing catch up right now, otherwise I would’ve stopped by sooner… I thought you were going to write about the Madness song LOL

    • May 18, 2012 6:18 am

      I’ve actually been singing this song in my head since I wrote this post. Great, now it’ll be stuck in my head for another two days. Thanks a lot. ;)

      • May 18, 2012 12:38 pm

        You’re welcome. Here, try this instead…

      • May 18, 2012 10:06 pm

        Fantastic! Never even heard/seen this. Have you seen the movie The Trip by the way? Great flick that came out last year. Two English blokes take a trip together, a la Trains, Planes and Automobiles. Anyway, they do impressions throughout the whole movie, particularly of Michael Caine, the best part of all. They keep arguing the proper way to talk him as he’s aged and his voice has deepened and he’s drank brandy, etc.

      • May 18, 2012 10:49 pm

        Nope… but if you watch the Young Ones I’ll promise to watch that :D

  25. May 16, 2012 8:00 am

    I loved seeing the pictures of your childhood house! You moved around the time you realized “life could suck,” ha! What do your kids think about the idea of moving?

    My in-laws sold their house last year, and my hub and his sister were pretty torn up about it, because they’d lived their almost their whole lives. I tried to convince them home is where the heart is (okay, I didn’t actually say that. This isn’t the last five minutes of “Full House”), but I do think it’s really hard to leave a home (not a house) behind!

    • May 18, 2012 6:17 am

      Home is where the heart is? Full House? You have a dog named Uncle Jesse, Jules. I think we both know you meant for this to be the last five minutes of Full House. But that’s why we love you.

  26. May 16, 2012 7:52 pm

    Awwww…I’m slightly jealous because at least you were able to stay put in one house long enough to build such great memories. As a Navy Brat, I unfortunately didn’t have that luxury :/ What a truly bittersweet moment! I hope you’re leaving something permanent in the home that will tell your “story” for any new owners that are taking over…like your handprints in the cement…your names scratched in the wood…writing “fart” in permanent marker on the ceiling… ;)

    My husband and I are still in our first house purchased together. It’s been 5 years now…Our “starter house” as we like to call it. We’ve had lots of conversations about moving to another one since our boys are getting older, we need more space, and I just want the experience of something new…but it’s true that sentiment keeps us from wanting to leave our house. Too many good memories, so for now “expansion” is the word..

    P.S. Chad Allen! Totally forgot about him til you mentioned his name! Hahaha!

    • May 18, 2012 6:23 am

      I will have to wait until my kids can actually spell the word “fart”. I’ll have to work with them on that. Yes, I wouldn’t want us to ever leave this house without putting our mark on it. Handprints in the cement is maybe a better way to go?

      I’m glad you understand how hard it is to leave a house.

      P.S. Yes, Chad Allen. Never forget him. Although, he apparently bats for the other team now. Too bad for us.

  27. July 4, 2012 8:55 am

    I didnt know a house could leave such feelings with a person. You should definitely start scrpbooking because you have some amazing pics!

    • July 5, 2012 8:24 pm

      I’m not very crafty so I’d love it if my mom would scrapbook for me. She is the keeper of most of our family photos. Believe it or not, this doesn’t even scratch the surface of our family archives! Thanks for reading!

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