My parents bought my grandma's house when she died because otherwise they would lose the connection to the town they grew up in. It is in a town of maybe 300 people called Endicott. Just a small farm town with hot nothing to do. Except, this particular little town, holds mythical stature in my mind.
My dad's dad was the country doctor, treating patients in exchange for goods if they couldn't pay. My mom's dad, was a farmer whose cows ran to greet him when they heard his car approaching. Dad's mom had a big, lovely house with hidden rooms, lots of costume jewelry and she blended up orange juice with ice into frothy goodness . Mom's mom sat in the kitchen and drank coffee, smoking cigarettes with the ladies and she is the one I got my middle name from. Her peonies still grow because Mom and Dad tend to them, they even got the recent Yard of the Month award.
There are memories in every house, in the park, the main street, the doctor's office and with the few people left. Even if they aren't all my own memories, after years of stories, it feels like it. So you see, we couldn't leave that little town.
The house has A/C and tons of raspberries bushes in the yard and I get to swim in the huge pool where my mom set swim records when she was in high school. Mike Phelps, meet Rhonda Kay. I will work on the rest of the prep for Dev's baby shower next weekend and read tons of magazines in the hot sun. Asher can practice driving on the farm roads or just skate down the empty streets in town. Maybe we can explore some scary abandoned house on the side of the road. Who knows?
Asher doesn’t really want to go but I’m making him because it will feel like a real vacation! I think maybe I need to sell it to him a little better because I think anyone who read that whole part up there would want to go. It is a perfect escape.
Friday, August 15, 2008
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