- Fizzy Thoughts: Homes Sweet Homes

Homes Sweet Homes

Wednesday, May 16, 2007

I attended a training a few months ago where the trainer asked us to count up how many different times we had moved in our life. This was to include moves between houses in the same town. I have forgotten what the point of this exercise was (yeah, the training was that memorable), but my total was 19. And for some reason, I've found myself thinking back on many of these places in the last few months. So here it is, the list of all the places I've lived...

1. a house on some numbered street, Maywood, CA - since I didn't learn how to count until after we moved away, I think I can be forgiven for not remembering the address. This is the family (pre-me) in front of the garage, the only picture I could find that showed any part of the exterior.


2. an apartment above Kramer's General Store, Dufur, OR - population 500. This is when my parents decided to flee LA. Obviously, they went to the opposite end of the spectrum. Some might say they went to the ends of the earth.


3. the trailer park, Dufur, OR - yes, yes, you can make a trailer trash joke. Like the apartment, I have zero memory of this. I do have a picture of my brother and I standing in front of the trailer...he is holding his freshly caught fish, I believe I'm holding the fishing pole. What are little sisters for, huh?

4. the trailer, BFE, OR - ready to renovate the barn, our parents moved the trailer (and us) out to the boonies.

5. barn, BFE, OR - yes, I lived in a barn. Even after the renovations, it was still a barn. With bats. And we had an outhouse. A two-seater, which I believe puts us waaaaaaay above trailer trash in the social order. I'm convinced this is part of the reason why I don't feel a need to go camping. Oh, I almost forgot...we had farm animals! There was Rusty Nails, the horse. And Ham and Bacon, the pigs. And there were chickens without names.


6. farmhouse, Boyd, OR - you won't find Boyd on a map, at least a current map. It's a dead town, east of Dufur. The farmhouse was totally cool, though. Although I had just moved from a barn, so that might have something to do with the fond memories. My brother lived in the attic, the little room above the kitchen with no windows. Yes, it was his choice. He was a teenager at that point. I was about 6, I slept in the room next to my parents because it was very lonely and scary in the real upstairs bedrooms where my brother wasn't around to protect me from monsters. He totally failed in his execution of big brother duties. Oh, except this is the place where he taught me about indian burns and 52 card pickup. And he took my bike apart and then then put it back together without the training wheels. The jerk. Yes indeedy, lots of good memories here.

7. smaller farmhouse, Friend, OR - despite the name, another dead town, this one on the other side of Dufur. This house had blue siding and cherry tomatoes in the abandoned garden. My grandma had a dog she named Dufur. Years later, we had a dog we would name Friend. Total misnomer, that.

8. duplex, Fir St, Morro Bay, CA - our return to California. There was a fuchsia plant in the front yard and my best friend for 2 years lived in the other half of the duplex. Years later, our moms ended up working at the same school and retiring together. They go to the movies together every week. The duplex is still there, I drive by it out of curiosity about once a year. It looks short.

9. home, Los Osos, CA - the first (and only) house my parents owned. My mom still lives there. Actually, they may have owned the Maywood house...if they didn't, my grandparents did. I should ask my mom about that. I came home from school one day and my mom (who had always hated the closet dividing the dining room and living room) had taken a sledge hammer and knocked down the closet. Go Mom...way to force Dad into having to do some work around the house.

10. college apartment, SLO, CA - I lived here for two years. And I survived the first Poly Royal riots at this apartment complex. There's nothing like looking out your living room window to see police in riot gear.

11. London! Okay, it was only three months and it was a college program, but dammit, I'm counting it!


12. back home - I was broke after London and I had to finish college. Yes, I'm counting a place twice, but it's moves, not locations. Besides, doesn't just about everyone move back home at some point?

13. room in a house, Los Osos, CA - for about 3 months I rented a room from one of HB's former roommates.

14. Ironwood St, MB, CA - my first home with HB. Awwwww. It was a typical old little Morro Bay vacation shack. And it's no longer standing. :-( I went for a walk one day to find it had been replaced by a very large modern MB house, the kind that takes up the whole lot.

15. Tahiti St, MB - our move to the islands. ;-) This was the second house we rented. This one had insulation and a garage for HB to make surfboards. And a bad mold problem in the spare bedroom.

16. Oahu St, MB - homeowners at last! This is still our favorite house. It was the perfect size for the two of us, and we did so much work on this house. We got attached, although not so attached that we couldn't sell.

17. Rennell St, MB - a three block move. We actually walked the refrigerator (on a dolly) between the two houses. Another fixer-upper, this one with a two-car garage, which is a rare find in north MB.

18. Berwick 1, MB - out of north MB and into the high(er) rent district. Low rent house, but still a better neighborhood.

19. Berwick 2, MB - the current home sweet home. Never move across the street, it's the hardest move you'll ever make!

And here's hoping #20 is a long ways off.

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In a real sense, people who have read good literature have lived more than people who cannot or will not read. It is not true that we have only one life to live; if we can read, we can live as many more lives and as many kinds of lives as we wish. ~S.I. Hayakawa

The World is a book, and those who do not travel read only a page.
~St. Augustine

Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness.
~Mark Twain

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