PORCH PONDERINGS

Tiny House

PROMPT May 2nd

What smell or sounds brings back great memories of your childhood?


Well, a not-so-great memory is of the small bedroom I shared with my sister. It was at the end of a very short hallway from the living room in our small home. Eight hundred square feet for the five of us. It just got relisted for sale. I had to look at the house again on Realtor.com.

At night as I tried to get to sleep, darling sister would lie in bed and fret about noise coming from the living room.

TV noise, father smoking. Talking. Eating. You name it. She was insistent that all be quiet.

So she would yell and yell. Night after night.

“Shut up! Be quiet!”

Mercy sakes. Ever try sleeping with that every night?

She is still that way today. Sleeps with a white-noise fan. Wanders the house for a stray noise.

“What are you doing up? Why are you awake?”

That greeted me one time when I was staying at her house.

“Um. Going to the bathroom?”

Mumbles and grumbles as she went back to her bedroom.

I got to thinking, why didn’t my parents ever chastise her? Stop the cycle. But back then, you didn’t tell parents what to do.

Happier memories were of playing in my uncle’s pool. He lived just two doors down. Riding my bike up to Connie's house to play, we always tried to build a treehouse in the summer. Or in the winter skating on the pond across the street if it was cold enough to freeze over. And if there was enough snow, down the street was a great sledding hill. You got extra points if your sled made it all the way to the creek and you could avoid the pine trees in your way.

Seems that my happy memories were of being outside. Escaping the tiny house.














Queen NormaJean II GreenEyes