This is a long post about memories, and probably of little interest to anyone other than my family, but I feel like writing these memories down in case they're forgotten. We have Alzheimers on both sides of the family... in varying generations.... (must. consume. fish. oil. supplements).
Anyway, a few months ago, I flew down south to visit my grandparents. Despite the plane being unable to land, and having to complete my journey on a bus for 5 hours, it was worth it.
I started reminiscing about childhood memories spent down that way with my other grandparents who are now deceased. Whilst out driving, I asked my grandparents if we could swing past my Nana and Poppa's old place. I'd always loved that house and I'm so glad we were able to find it. I was able to take photos of the house and the street, something I didn't have, and let the memories come flooding back.
It felt like another lifetime when I'd played in those streets in the school holidays, with my brother and the kids next door. I'm not that old, so it surprised me just how long ago it all felt.
This is the house from the bottom road. This isn't a view we saw often, but I remember walking along the brick walls, dipping my toes down the sides of the wall, practicing my beam technique, while Poppa tinkered away on his Triumph in the garage.
Side note: I sucked at gymnastics. The two bedrooms at the front of the house were so beautifully decorated. I never spent much time in those rooms, so my memories are a tad faded, but I know they were well put together. Nana was an interior designer and wore lovely woolen tailored suits.
This is the view of the house most clearly etched in my mind. I still remember walking down that path into the kitchen and baking cornflake cookies with Nana. Poppa would sit in the front room reading teletext or watching TV and muting the ads. If I sat really really quietly next to Poppa and didn't make a noise, sometimes he would let me play games on the Teletext. Not often... but sometimes. What a treat! If my brother was good he was allowed to pull the Cadbury limited edition cars off the shelf and pretend to play with them (still in their boxes).
If Poppa wasn't watching the TV or playing his beloved organ with his missing fingers, he would be in his little shed attached to the kitchen restoring old stereos. His stereos were beautiful pieces of art, restored to the finest of details. I still remember the constant sound of the radio, out in that shed, where I'd bring him freshly baked cornflake cookies. He'd just mumble. I'd head back inside and help Nana to update her antiques catalogue.
It's nice to see that whoever lives here now cares for the gardens as much as my Nana did.
The image above is the formal entrance to the home. I don't ever remember anybody using this door, or these stairs. Just like my Nana's Spode china, it was not to be used, just admired. It was for 'special occasions'. I used to imagine who Nana would let use this door, and figured it could only be someone like the Queen. If the Queen had popped in for a cup of tea, she would have used this door, and the Spode china.
I'll save the story of the Dragon Lady and the Boy Next Door for another time.
Do you often visit places that remind you of your childhood? Driving past your old house and wondering who lives there now and what furniture they have?
