I was laying in bed Saturday morning, exhausted but exhilarated after a full day of moving on Friday, looking at my 10 foot ceiling and noticed I have three smoke alarms in my bedroom. I reckon two are leftovers from previous tenants and one is fairly new. I realized my little house has footprints of other people wandering around its rooms and gardens.
Some of the footprints go up the south exterior wall where two satellite dishes now perch. The newbie is at the roof's peek where it reaches to the stars and brings me such delights as Saving Grace and the ubiquitous reruns of Friends.
And last night the best footprints of all were laid by Annabella Blue as she discovered she can run round and round in circles through the floor plan of this old house. Welcome, Annie. Come again soon!
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The Little House has seen a lot of good people in it's 36 years in our family. Early on there was a young couple who arrived in a VW bus looking straight out of the hippie era and departed several years later with two small sons and a station wagon. Numerous family members from multiple generations have stayed there - Mike’s sister, brother, and nephew, all at different times. People lived there for as short as a summer stay for our daughters after we left for Lubbock and before they left for college. And as long as Kim (and Javier), and Steve and Janan, who stayed for multiple years.
Residents could probably be counted in the layers of paint on the walls and cabinets. And as you have seen, in the abandoned smoke detectors on the ceilings. Colorful flower beds have come and gone as people tested their green thumbs. The house has unique quirks, as you will find out. We hope it will be a real HOME for you. It’s great to have you as a neighbor!
Did you ever hear about the broken bits of glass I started finding in the backyard after a good rain? All different textures, colors and patterns. It was such a mystery to me. Did a tornado blow through and only hit the kitchenware? Did an angry spouse throw dishes outside in a rage? Then someone told me people used to bury their trash in the backyard before they had such things as trash pickups. But the pieces seemed too valuable to be trash.
Whatever the case, I started keeping the smaller chips in a glass bowl, and I now have that bowl sitting on my mantle in this house. Remind me to show it to you at the October meeting. I debated about breaking something of my own and burying it in the backyard, but never remembered in all of the hullabulloo of moving. Hopefully there's pieces of me somehow scattered all over the yard and house.
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