Here's what's been going on in our neck of the woods lately:
Anthony's summer schedule keeps him at school Monday-Friday mornings, and I told Connor at the beginning of the summer that if he wanted to do fun things like go to the rec center and Lagoon, I'd need some help from him. He's really taken it upon himself to be the man of the house while daddy is out, even helping me take out the trash. (That is Alaina's, "I'm about to bug you" face.)
Father's Day was nice. We hung around the house all morning to give Anthony some down time, then had dinner at Grandma and Grandpa's house. I think Marinda hit the jackpot with her huge Mountain Dew gift!
I love to take pictures of Mom and Dad's flowers...always so pretty.
I like the ethereal look of the first, and the hard light of this one. I couldn't decide.
The fathers in attendance
A few weeks before Father's Day, the kids found a card-making kit that I didn't know I had, so we make cards for Anthony. They each had their choice of the words, "hero, friend, or teacher", and I think their choices are so cute. They both tried hard to get their names looking right, even though Alaina ran out of room at the end. :) They really wanted to make the cards nice and spent nearly an hour making meticulous additions, like Connor's piece of string.
One day, one of Alaina's friends came over to show her the temporary tattoo that her mom had put on. Alaina wanted one terribly, but we were about to go somewhere and it was a family-oriented Sunday, so I told her no. Days passed, and I let the kids pick out one thing from the Target Dollar Spot. Alaina picked out some foam stickers, and I thought she'd make cards or put them in her "school book" - a few pieces of paper stapled together that she brings into her friends' playhouse where they "go to school". When we got home, I busied myself with something, then later walked into the family room to find this:
She had planned all along to have LOTS of "temporary tattoos" and one-up them. She was quite proud of herself. :)
...still got those edamame fingers. <3
Lego Batman has been a been our source of afternoon down-time. It's been fun to watch Connor go from walking around and picking up coins (six months ago) to problem-solving and doing missions with Anthony.
Here's where this post goes off the deep end... :) In my brain, my life is clearly compartmentalized into distinct chapters: birth-high school graduation, the summer in Kaysville, my time at Utah State, life with Anthony before kids, life in Castle Rock, and our time in Utah. Visiting Theresa in my childhood neighborhood has given me, a self-proclaimed nostalgia-junkie, PLENTY of experiences that seem mundane to her, but fascinate me. A walk around the neighborhood is like a highlight reel of shared memories, and it is intense. I had a hair-brained idea come to me a couple of weeks ago to climb the Fronces' tree in which I spend innumerable childhood hours and capture the view that's so vivid in my mind's eye. I know I won't remember these things forever, and I don't ever want to forget. I used to climb up there to be alone, to be serene, to be hidden. I loved feeling like I could see all that was going on in the circle, but no one could see me. I'd hustle down the branches if Mom came out onto the front steps yelling for me or ringing the cowbell to call everyone in. I would see when Dad pulled in from work, signalling dinner time. I'd perk up when Janet or Marinda came home from college for a visit, or I could monitor David's progress on the front lawn. Most days like this June one, Mom and Mary Ann would be in the kitchen, having a battle of wills over a 4-H project. I could see "my spot" perfectly from my bedroom window, so if I left a toy up there for later, I could check on it easily.
I wanted the photos to be taken on a summer morning, when I thought our circle was the most beautiful. The view from the tree was just as I remembered it:
I remember peeling the flaky bark off of the branches and watching it flutter to the ground. I never let the branches build up this much fluff! :)
Looking back at the Fronce's house to see if the maroon Ford Explorer was parked in an open garage, which usually meant that Tony and Andrew could play.
The branches seemed thicker and sturdier as a child. I looked down, half expecting to see Andrew and that Broadstone boy (whatever his name was), and let me tell you, seeing my own children looking up at me while seated in "my spot" blew my mind. This picture is wild to me.
This is a more accurate view of the perspective from my spot in the tree and it REALLY takes me back (the trash cans bother me, because we never put them in the circle...but FYI, trash day is still Thursday).
While I was reminiscing up in the tree, Theresa and her boys walked up. That's a trip, too. Theresa used to meet me at the tree so we could walk up to 7-11 for a slurpee or play with our American Girl dolls. Now I have children that want to climb the tree, and she's making use of the double stroller that they just grew out of. So weird.
At this point, I was feeling sufficiently like a creeper, but I needed to get a few more shots. I just had to. Like this merging of the Fronces' and Rushtons' fences. Through that dark crevice lie the easiest access to the other world above: the field. All you had to do was walk in a few feet, then use the gray fence's middle beam to hoist yourself up and crabwalk with your hands on the top of Rushton's fence and feet on the top of Fronces'. You better not let Clay Rushton see you, though, since he would always scold us for doing so. We'd explore in the rocks and weeds, heading east toward my house, then climb over the scratchy top-level fence into my backyard.
A glimpse of the field:
We continued to walk around the circle, past the Barry's house. Even though I abhor cigarette smoke, sometimes I will catch a whiff of just the right brand and enjoy it for a second, as it reminds me of warm summer nights, Mr. Barry smoking out on his porch. He was a nice guy.
This picture makes me smile. As we passed our old house, I was taken aback with all the things that have changed and all of the things that have stayed the same. I remember when Dad ripped out the aspen tree by the front porch because its knobby roots were ruining the lawn. I was sad that I wouldn't be able to read under its dappled sunlight, but it only took a few years for his newly planted maple to shade the front porch. Now look how huge it is! I was talking to those kids, telling them that when I was their age, I used to live here. They told me about how they had found a caterpillar. I remember riding around in my little trike with the seat that opened and collecting potato bugs on summer mornings. It made me so happy to see little girls living there, knowing what a magical childhood I had in that house and that yard. Though the shutters, bay window, chimney, and front door are all slightly different, that porch light is mine. That top step will always be my sanctuary. As of right now, that maple has still spent the most time with me sitting under its leaves. It will always be home.
A few other things that I didn't want to forget: The Broadstone's mailbox. The home base for all night games.
The birch (?) tree on their front porch from which we'd pull the "paper" for our treasure maps.
My daily view as I walked home from Theresa's house. That fire hydrant that I used to stand on with an umbrella during storms, confident that with just enough wind, I would fly away, ala Mary Poppins. I mastered my training wheels on these sidewalks, and to see my kids playing there makes me think too much about the beauty and sadness of mortality. On a lighter note, I have to laugh at the car choice of those crazy Stanfield kids...doesn't that jacked up piece of junk totally fit with their crazy personalities? Remember how Zack (with the two fingers) would talk excitedly and incoherently, spitting like the Tazmanian Devil? I'm a little afraid that he's on the road! :)
Alaina riding past the Rushton's house, just like I did. Except back then, it was a scratchy red fence that gave you slivers. There would always be a hose across the sidewalk, trying in vain to keep the grass near the curb alive, that had the potential to dump you off of your bike if you weren't going fast enough. I'm glad they gave that up in favor of rocks. :) I remember falling off of my Big Wheels right where Alaina is, and crying for Janet to come help me (how do I remember that from 22 years ago?!). I remember being right there when Mom called me in to change the bandages for my chin injury, and dreading the moment when they'd be painfully ripped off. I remember spending all of the money I received for my eighth (I think it was eighth!) birthday on that maple in the photo, $28 being the most money I'd ever spent in one lump sum, and being devastated about it. I had broken a branch by swinging on it with that dang Broadstone kid, and he got no punishment for trying to lie his way out of it, while I had to dig out the stump of the dying tree by myself, then plant all of my precious birthday money into the ground. Now that I'm a mother, I applaud my parents for teaching me a lesson in accountability, which I haven't forgotten. Look at the size difference between that maple and the one at our old house...Dad's deep watering technique definitely yields big trees!
Phew! That's an emotional journey for me. I had a beautiful childhood at 9083 Sunrise Circle, and I'm so grateful that I had a reason to go back and have the crazy idea to document a few of my memories. What I wouldn't give to be granted access into our backyard circa 1995! Now THAT would be fun!
Anthony's summer schedule keeps him at school Monday-Friday mornings, and I told Connor at the beginning of the summer that if he wanted to do fun things like go to the rec center and Lagoon, I'd need some help from him. He's really taken it upon himself to be the man of the house while daddy is out, even helping me take out the trash. (That is Alaina's, "I'm about to bug you" face.)
Father's Day was nice. We hung around the house all morning to give Anthony some down time, then had dinner at Grandma and Grandpa's house. I think Marinda hit the jackpot with her huge Mountain Dew gift!
I love to take pictures of Mom and Dad's flowers...always so pretty.
I like the ethereal look of the first, and the hard light of this one. I couldn't decide.
The fathers in attendance
A few weeks before Father's Day, the kids found a card-making kit that I didn't know I had, so we make cards for Anthony. They each had their choice of the words, "hero, friend, or teacher", and I think their choices are so cute. They both tried hard to get their names looking right, even though Alaina ran out of room at the end. :) They really wanted to make the cards nice and spent nearly an hour making meticulous additions, like Connor's piece of string.
One day, one of Alaina's friends came over to show her the temporary tattoo that her mom had put on. Alaina wanted one terribly, but we were about to go somewhere and it was a family-oriented Sunday, so I told her no. Days passed, and I let the kids pick out one thing from the Target Dollar Spot. Alaina picked out some foam stickers, and I thought she'd make cards or put them in her "school book" - a few pieces of paper stapled together that she brings into her friends' playhouse where they "go to school". When we got home, I busied myself with something, then later walked into the family room to find this:
She had planned all along to have LOTS of "temporary tattoos" and one-up them. She was quite proud of herself. :)
...still got those edamame fingers. <3
Lego Batman has been a been our source of afternoon down-time. It's been fun to watch Connor go from walking around and picking up coins (six months ago) to problem-solving and doing missions with Anthony.
Here's where this post goes off the deep end... :) In my brain, my life is clearly compartmentalized into distinct chapters: birth-high school graduation, the summer in Kaysville, my time at Utah State, life with Anthony before kids, life in Castle Rock, and our time in Utah. Visiting Theresa in my childhood neighborhood has given me, a self-proclaimed nostalgia-junkie, PLENTY of experiences that seem mundane to her, but fascinate me. A walk around the neighborhood is like a highlight reel of shared memories, and it is intense. I had a hair-brained idea come to me a couple of weeks ago to climb the Fronces' tree in which I spend innumerable childhood hours and capture the view that's so vivid in my mind's eye. I know I won't remember these things forever, and I don't ever want to forget. I used to climb up there to be alone, to be serene, to be hidden. I loved feeling like I could see all that was going on in the circle, but no one could see me. I'd hustle down the branches if Mom came out onto the front steps yelling for me or ringing the cowbell to call everyone in. I would see when Dad pulled in from work, signalling dinner time. I'd perk up when Janet or Marinda came home from college for a visit, or I could monitor David's progress on the front lawn. Most days like this June one, Mom and Mary Ann would be in the kitchen, having a battle of wills over a 4-H project. I could see "my spot" perfectly from my bedroom window, so if I left a toy up there for later, I could check on it easily.
I wanted the photos to be taken on a summer morning, when I thought our circle was the most beautiful. The view from the tree was just as I remembered it:
I remember peeling the flaky bark off of the branches and watching it flutter to the ground. I never let the branches build up this much fluff! :)
Looking back at the Fronce's house to see if the maroon Ford Explorer was parked in an open garage, which usually meant that Tony and Andrew could play.
The branches seemed thicker and sturdier as a child. I looked down, half expecting to see Andrew and that Broadstone boy (whatever his name was), and let me tell you, seeing my own children looking up at me while seated in "my spot" blew my mind. This picture is wild to me.
This is a more accurate view of the perspective from my spot in the tree and it REALLY takes me back (the trash cans bother me, because we never put them in the circle...but FYI, trash day is still Thursday).
While I was reminiscing up in the tree, Theresa and her boys walked up. That's a trip, too. Theresa used to meet me at the tree so we could walk up to 7-11 for a slurpee or play with our American Girl dolls. Now I have children that want to climb the tree, and she's making use of the double stroller that they just grew out of. So weird.
At this point, I was feeling sufficiently like a creeper, but I needed to get a few more shots. I just had to. Like this merging of the Fronces' and Rushtons' fences. Through that dark crevice lie the easiest access to the other world above: the field. All you had to do was walk in a few feet, then use the gray fence's middle beam to hoist yourself up and crabwalk with your hands on the top of Rushton's fence and feet on the top of Fronces'. You better not let Clay Rushton see you, though, since he would always scold us for doing so. We'd explore in the rocks and weeds, heading east toward my house, then climb over the scratchy top-level fence into my backyard.
A glimpse of the field:
We continued to walk around the circle, past the Barry's house. Even though I abhor cigarette smoke, sometimes I will catch a whiff of just the right brand and enjoy it for a second, as it reminds me of warm summer nights, Mr. Barry smoking out on his porch. He was a nice guy.
This picture makes me smile. As we passed our old house, I was taken aback with all the things that have changed and all of the things that have stayed the same. I remember when Dad ripped out the aspen tree by the front porch because its knobby roots were ruining the lawn. I was sad that I wouldn't be able to read under its dappled sunlight, but it only took a few years for his newly planted maple to shade the front porch. Now look how huge it is! I was talking to those kids, telling them that when I was their age, I used to live here. They told me about how they had found a caterpillar. I remember riding around in my little trike with the seat that opened and collecting potato bugs on summer mornings. It made me so happy to see little girls living there, knowing what a magical childhood I had in that house and that yard. Though the shutters, bay window, chimney, and front door are all slightly different, that porch light is mine. That top step will always be my sanctuary. As of right now, that maple has still spent the most time with me sitting under its leaves. It will always be home.
A few other things that I didn't want to forget: The Broadstone's mailbox. The home base for all night games.
The birch (?) tree on their front porch from which we'd pull the "paper" for our treasure maps.
My daily view as I walked home from Theresa's house. That fire hydrant that I used to stand on with an umbrella during storms, confident that with just enough wind, I would fly away, ala Mary Poppins. I mastered my training wheels on these sidewalks, and to see my kids playing there makes me think too much about the beauty and sadness of mortality. On a lighter note, I have to laugh at the car choice of those crazy Stanfield kids...doesn't that jacked up piece of junk totally fit with their crazy personalities? Remember how Zack (with the two fingers) would talk excitedly and incoherently, spitting like the Tazmanian Devil? I'm a little afraid that he's on the road! :)
Alaina riding past the Rushton's house, just like I did. Except back then, it was a scratchy red fence that gave you slivers. There would always be a hose across the sidewalk, trying in vain to keep the grass near the curb alive, that had the potential to dump you off of your bike if you weren't going fast enough. I'm glad they gave that up in favor of rocks. :) I remember falling off of my Big Wheels right where Alaina is, and crying for Janet to come help me (how do I remember that from 22 years ago?!). I remember being right there when Mom called me in to change the bandages for my chin injury, and dreading the moment when they'd be painfully ripped off. I remember spending all of the money I received for my eighth (I think it was eighth!) birthday on that maple in the photo, $28 being the most money I'd ever spent in one lump sum, and being devastated about it. I had broken a branch by swinging on it with that dang Broadstone kid, and he got no punishment for trying to lie his way out of it, while I had to dig out the stump of the dying tree by myself, then plant all of my precious birthday money into the ground. Now that I'm a mother, I applaud my parents for teaching me a lesson in accountability, which I haven't forgotten. Look at the size difference between that maple and the one at our old house...Dad's deep watering technique definitely yields big trees!
Phew! That's an emotional journey for me. I had a beautiful childhood at 9083 Sunrise Circle, and I'm so grateful that I had a reason to go back and have the crazy idea to document a few of my memories. What I wouldn't give to be granted access into our backyard circa 1995! Now THAT would be fun!
