Kazzy

my breathing house

my deck
This house will be 70 years old next year. It has a few age-related illnesses, but overall it does quite well and enjoys its independence.


front garden
I get a little sentimental when I think about some of the events that have happened around here over my home's lifetime. There are a handful of original homeowners that are in their 90s here in my quiet old neighborhood.
They have sent sons to Viet Nam. They have seen the world change in unimaginable ways. They have lost spouses and now welcome great-grandchildren to family parties that spill out into the backyards. Nothing over 2600 square feet around here.
For the past few summers a woman in her sixties has stopped by to see this house. This is where she grew up and she has been having feelings of nostalgia. No wonder. It is a magical place in many ways.
My big locust tree in the front and cottonwood in the back like to tell stories. When the wind blows out of the canyon they whisper to each other over the roof, almost touching branch to branch.
I believe a house is a living thing. It remembers. It breathes.

12 comments

Welcome to the Garden of Egan | June 15, 2011 at 9:20 PM

I have to agree.
I think all the other houses are your house's best friends too.
What stories they could tell.

Kristina P. | June 15, 2011 at 9:34 PM

I love the visuals of this and it breathing.

Bossy Betty | June 15, 2011 at 9:44 PM

I totally agree. I think the walls remember it all....

Lesa | June 15, 2011 at 11:28 PM

I agree too. A few years ago my sisters and I went back to our childhood home. The current owners were kind enough to let us come in and walk around for a minute. So many good memories and 'our' house was so glad to see us. :)

LisAway | June 16, 2011 at 12:00 AM

Exactly! That's why leaving is so hard. It's a living thing that has served you in so many ways.

Becca | June 16, 2011 at 7:51 AM

I love that your trees talk to each other. Mine do, too. And to me. (Sometimes)

mermaid gallery | June 16, 2011 at 8:03 AM

that is so true!...as I pack up and prepare to move after 23 years in my home, i am often overcome with emotion and the feeling that I am deserting it. We are leaving our beloved pets graves and the gardens and trees that we love. It's so hard to move on......

Jenny Lynn | June 16, 2011 at 8:43 AM

so true.
I have many fond memories of my grandmothers house in Carlsbad, CA. My dad had grown up there and it was a peaceful place. I often think about it.

Joanie | June 17, 2011 at 8:36 AM

I love your title. I think my house would be called "the napping house". The stories a house could tell!

The Way I See It | June 22, 2011 at 12:47 PM

I love the house, love the trees, love the memories.

Charlotte | June 23, 2011 at 9:20 AM

I've always felt that way. Which might be why I've always lived in older homes. It is weird to move to a brand new one and shape it's personality.

*~Petra~* | June 24, 2011 at 10:56 AM

Oh it is so beautiful. I love older houses... they are so full of character. And I wish I had a HUGE tree like that in my yard. *Sigh*

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