Take A Walk With Me

Today the temperature is going well into the 90's which isn't so bad but the humidity is 100%. So it is time to go for a trip down memory lane which leads to taking a dip in the pool. That's me on the right, mouth open. That happens less and less now, I hope! Those suits are beguiling. What happened to fashion? The yard was my backyard, jungle, library, forest, parade route, theater, swimming hole, campgrounds, and playground.

I had to share it with Grandma who held title to the veggie and flower gardens, see the white picket fence? The cherry trees were hers too, as well as the chicken coop-turned-tool shed which the photographer must be standing in near. It was the cherry tree in the photo background that I used to climb to pick and eat the cherries. I managed to get some for Mom and Grandma to make pies too. I had the kettle I used for cherries, right up till last year.

Oh, and half the yard had been converted to a parking lot, or maybe always was. Pre-Kate era. Grandpa was a mechanic and had a 3 car garage. Grandma rented "tourist rooms" and there was parking for guests. My dad's truck was always parked outside.

One of the tourists was a snappy, young lad, probably 24-28 and he had a car that matched - a zippy, 2 seat red convertible. I was too young to be appreciated by him but I knew what I liked and it was that car! So I just hung around, touching it when he wasn't there. It was an MGB. Now I think Grandma should have taken his car in exchange for a place to live and in time I would have had a slick ride for myself.

Come to think of it, this may have been my first sign of a love for cars. It became an obsession: I used to lay in bed, look out the window, tell myself, "1956 Ford Fairlane", "1960 Chevy BelAir" or whatever was passing by.

So the yard sounds huge and it was then, when I was little. It is, still, in my mind. It was a full day of activity, an adventure-land to visit. Some days there was laundry hanging out to dry and dashing between sheets was a game. The next day the line would be left up so a tent could be set up over it for camping out (day camp). The day after that the tent would come down and become a screen for a play or puppet show. We'd haul out folding chairs for dolls and trapped family members. After the final performance we'd swing and spin around on the monkey bars.

Then there'd be a day of running a library and the neighborhood kids would come and we'd read. Imagine that! Soon there'd be a game of tag or ball to wear us out before dinner. The pool was obviously above ground and a source of much cool fun, as is evidenced above. When the pool wasn't "up" we'd have pet parades and every cat and dog on the block was encouraged to participate.

The garden was the best though. Row after row of carefully tended to plants that yielded beans and lettuce, tomatoes and rhubarb, parsley and probably some stuff I wouldn't eat so don't remember. I do recall weeding and the associated excuses for not being able to do it...not just yet. The excuses failed; the weeds were gone. I was outnumbered by grownups.

Well, thanks for taking this quick trip with me around the back yard. I hope you enjoyed a glimpse of my only-child past. It was a close knit neighborhood where every mom was Mom, every dad was Dad, and every kid was like a brother or sister.

Or at least that's how I remember it.

No More Side Street Parking of Houses Allowed in Springfield

The Maisenbacher House, previously blogged, resides now on a frame built in a hole on the lot it will occupy forevermore. The foundation is still on the "to do list". But the house is out of the road. Hopefully now the company that moved it can head out east to their next job and Court and Karen can go forward with whatever is next. The saga of the house was gearing up to be a top story for Spfld. Then the governor came from behind, raced to the year end's finishing line, and left every other story at a standstill.

We surely do get riled up over some small stuff at times. Hot Rod (governor) has taught us nothing if not that we shouldn't sweat the small stuff. And, getting our community undies in a bunch over this house was the small stuff. Big Boy, Elvis, Jr., Hot Rod, The Hair - now he's worthy of some close attention. Keep your fingers crossed that he ends up in the Big House, and I don't mean this one!

A House Divided

...cannot stand. How ironic that this was said by the very man who financed the house in the street, Lincoln. See November 21st blog posting, please.

The chatter and clatter continues. Most recently the alderpeople decided to vote down what is now $279k to put in a foundation. When this first started I had heard the cost for the foundation was to be $150k. But, the economy sucks so I can understand the price change. The contractor may not have more work lined up yet.

The day after the vote to withhold the funding the radio was a-buzz with people yammering about this topic and showing how well-spoken central Illinois residents can be - not. If there is money to dish out, and I doubt there is, it should go to grammar rehabilitation programs. But, I digress.

So now what, we wait for the house to implode, crumble or reach a destination on its own? The folks who own the lot and structure face $1000/day fines from the owner of the moving firm if the "wheels" aren't returned by the 15th. They can't move it back where it came from as that land is quickly becoming a lovely plot of concrete with tasteful striping.

I say, re-route the street around the house, swapping the lot for the asphalt area, or just shorten the block. It's really not a busy through street at all and it would just extend the Lincoln tourist area. People need to walk more anyway. It'd be good for everyone.

So this Maisenbacher house won't be open for guests till things settle down and now the governor has thrown his propeller beanie hat into the mix by keeping his rarely kept word and closing down state attractions. Another house issue crops up in conversations all around town. That would be the now closed Dana-Thomas House in Springfield. It's a Frank Lloyd Wright design/construction and the Christmas highlight for many who annually trek there to see the house lit only by candles.

Frankly (no pun intended towards the late Mr. Wright), Bloggo should have just shut down the governor's mansion. No one lives there nor has anyone lived there since Hot Rod became governor. The tours are very limited and rarely annual journeys. That would save a lot of money in energy costs and staff costs. The wife likes Chicago and he's on a short leash we think. I like the city too but I live here. It works.

As for me and my house? Well, we remain in place and open for friends and relatives and the occasional wandering stranger.