Skip to main content

It's Thursday.

The Angry Bird.

I spent the day at my grandmothers. When my Mum lights a fire, I know I'm needed. It usually means she's burning something, my grandmother deems valuable, on the down low. Today it was a couch. I didn't take photos of the arson, but sitting in my grandmothers house made me appreciate what memories mean to me, specific to her and my Pops.

There was a reason my Pops gave his children boundaries when they were younger. Boundaries they had to keep within when they returned home from school and church. They were restricted to their drive way and as is typical in Ruralville, their grandmother and aunties lived next door and their homes fell within those boundaries.

We're the same with our kids today. The boundaries are a little further because of where we all are in the community, but they still remain within them. I think my grandfather had a vision when he built his house. Everything we need is within their property.

If we wanted a play ground .. we swung off the clothes line that stands some 15-20 feet up off the ground.

If we wanted to get up onto the roof, the shutters on the dungeon window acted as holds.

If we wanted to play golf or hockey .. we utilized the laundry room drain.

Yes, we even have a dungeon ...

... and for a few years, there was something spooky locked up in there.
No one ever saw it, we only ever heard about it.

Maybe one of the only houses in the community that still has an open fire place.

The bay window with the outdated photos.

The internal meter that probably has a dangerously high EMF rating.

The cubby. The spy hole. The eaves dropper into the kitchen/lounge where the adults would yap.

Old door handles with the handle replaced sideways..

The old lights that hang from vaulted ceilings.

"What does this string do?"
"Turns on the light?"
"Can we have a string light?"
"No. It's far to primitive for us".

Before frosted windows.

I think this decor is hideous myself, but there has always been something there in the family room.

The porch door.

More outdated photos.

The view.

Remnants of a tennis court.

In a ruralville houses, shoes must be removed, but gumboot removal is optional.

Built in bread bins.

The copper bin that Aunty Vi has wrecked by throwing wood into it. We toyed with the idea of replacing it with a wicker basket, but she'll probably set it aflame.

Why we don't buy lemons.

Why we don't buy mandarins.

It's become a memorable place as of late. The more time I spent down there, the more I appreciate it. There are only good memories here and I'm saying that even though I've only slept there a handful of times because I'd always run home in the middle of the night. It's where we all grew up. Where we all came together as a family and I fear that one day soon, it's going to stop being that place so, I'm glad I have these memories.


Melissa said…
Great, great post. I loved looking at all those pics.
Me said…
I'm excited to go see my grandma :) she still has paintings on the walls I made her when I was 3 :) its such a loving place full of happy memories.

Popular posts from this blog

Super Moon, Te Mata and Ariel.

Last nights Super Moon. Te Mata Peak. Safe to say, Hubbalush loves her Ariel. She's my favorite big sister Mum. (Shame Tyler, Shai, Nessa and Rome) Goodnight Hawkes Bay. Earthquake: I felt it. I got my child up and ran outside onto my concrete porch where I thought it would be safest. The Seismologist on the news the next day said running outside is not a good idea in the event of an Earthquake. Now I know for next time. Hawkes Bay didn't feel the effects of it like Southland did .. and is continuing to do. Over 1000 aftershocks since it all began. Tyler is stuck on the South Island and finishing out their tour, much to my dismay. It's a disaster zone in parts down there and although she's on the skirts of the danger zones, you'd think it professional AND safe to cancel the tour and bring the troop home .. but no. Some stupid doesn't think so. Goodnight.

Kawe Mate.

Recently an Aunty of mine, who is staunch in her Maori culture, talked to me about the protocol of Kawe Mate. Kawe Mate is a custom during the maori process of death that involves taking the deceased memory back to where they were well known or considered home. It's a custom that is basically a gesture of love to family members who weren't able to attend the tangi. My family never practised it at all and I don't think it's necessary to start. I carry his memory in my heart, as does his Mom, that's all that matters. Happy Mothers Day!