search instagram arrow-down

Recent Posts

Archives

Top Posts & Pages

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 5,642 other followers

likeable-blog-1337-1x.png

Thanks for Freshly Pressing me again!!

Freshly Pressed

Blog Stats

Blogs I Follow

Blog Stats

And again! Thank you to all who follow and support me!!

I closed the store amid snow flakes drifting through the dark. Sitting at the traffic light, at the corner of Route 101 and Route 202, I looked across the intersection and my mind’s eye took over. My grandparent’s house was sitting on the spit of land, except it wasn’t a spit of land. You could barely see the tidy, yellow clapboard home behind the giant pines that separated it from the railroad tracks. The route was from Peterborough to Fitchburg, my great-grandfather rode those trains every day as a conductor, after coming back from whaling.

The house was lit for the season with a brightly colored tree in the front room, the curtains thrown open to the world. In each window, a  paper-mache candle held a yellow bulb. My grandfather worked his entire life for the Public Service of New Hampshire. He loved nothing more than tinkering with electricity and had cobbled together rudimentary timers for the window candles so they came on at dark and shut off at bedtime. The driveway was always a narrow path this time of year, lined with enormous show banks – perfect for digging elaborate forts and tunnels all day.

The river wound gently behind the house and was frozen over enough in spots for perfect skating ponds among the shallow, quiet sections. There was only the moon to light those spots when my Grandpa Brim took us out at the end of the day to skate a few laps among the reeds and grasses poking through. The tracks out front were in operation even in my childhood, though infrequently. We placed copper pennies on the smooth rails and later came back to retrieve our shiny, flat treasures.

The house stood for almost 100 years. rough wooden beams in the basement marked the various floods from historic storms. The “central” heating system included large, round brass grates between the first and second floors to allow for hot air to rise to the bedrooms and bath. They also worked  well for snooping on the adults below when children were sent to bed.

The river was diverted to create a shopping mall, the railroad stopped and the land was reclaimed for a branch bank.  The highways narrowed the property, bringing the world to this corner. The traffic light changed and I drove by. To the rest of the world this is an intersection of routes, to me it is a tiny corner of the fabric of my life.

Julia bounded in as I was laying the fire. “Oh my word! You won’t believe what happened today! This was so cool!” ’cause she really does talk like that. “I spoke with this woman from Bozeman who knew exactly where the house I grew up in was!”  Julia went on to replay her conversation and how it had made her a bit homesick for her native Montana. The woman apparently described the changes to the area, the growth and development. But Julia clung to the snapshots in her mind of great expanses and a childhood home.

I think coming home for the holidays should occur every day; even if it is just in my mind.

DSC_3158

8 comments on “Home for the Holidays…

  1. julieallyn says:

    What a beautiful serendipitous moment to share with your daughter! Loved the description of your childhood recollections. It brought to mind my Grandma Clark’s old house — fodder for a post of my own, I suspect. 🙂

    1. Thanks Julie, the house is gone but the memories live on!

  2. I worked in Peterborough as a gardener for years and was able to easily picture all of that, except that I never knew the river ran behind the shopping center.

    1. I don’t know exactly when the river was re-routed. Perhaps when the bridge over it for Route 101 was built. It came up behind the house and there was no land for the shopping center back then…

      Thanks Allen for stopping by with your memories…

  3. Touring NH says:

    Such a wonderful collection of memories. Thank you for sharing!

    1. Thanks Laura. I feel so close to my “roots” now that I live here.

  4. Marie Keates says:

    What a beautiful picture, both physical and in words. The house I live in now is my childhood home, although much changed now. The area has been changed too. A huge bypass cut through part of Hum Hole, stealing some of the woods and the village turned into a pedestrian precinct. Sometimes it’s hard to remember what it was like.

    1. Doesn’t matter what it looks like now, we keep it alive in our minds’ eye!

Love to know what you are thinking! And thank you for commenting.
Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s

Putnam, in the studio and beyond

Reflections and ruminations in Education, Beauty, Art and Philosophy

Gringa of the Barrio

A Sassy Barrio Gringa Telling It Like It Is

Badfish & Chips Cafe

Travel photos, memoirs & letters home...from anywhere in the world

The city of adventure

From there to back again (usually on a bike)

Nolsie Notes

My stories, observations, and art.

Shellie Troy Anderson

~ WRITER, REBEL, RACONTEUR ~ AND MOST OF THE TIME A MIDDLE-AGED DESK JOCKEY

Oh, the Places We See . . .

Honey, grab the GPS.

The Task at Hand

A Writer's On-Going Search for Just the Right Words

The Next Phase Blog

Social commentary and opinions: No guns, politics, or religion.

Breaking New Ground in Zone 6

The adventures of Southern gardeners starting over in New England

Marsha's Bungalow

the WW2 era chicken coop

iwalkalone.co.uk

the world one step at a time

Tootlepedal's Blog

A look at life in the borders

Susan's Musings

Whimsical Stuff from a Writer's Mind

Travels with Choppy

A dog and cat in clothing. Puns. Travel. Bacon. Not necessarily in that order.

The WordPress.com Blog

The latest news on WordPress.com and the WordPress community.

A Sawyer's Daughter

The Life & Times of a Sawmill Man's Eldest Child

Formaggio Kitchen

Artisan cheese, charcuterie and specialty food.

Not Another Tall Blog

Not just another tall blog. Because being tall is NOT all we talk about! Follow me for tall talents, tall fashion, rock interviews and more!

On The Heath

where would-be writer works with words

The adventures of timbertwig in the forest of Burnley and the Rossendale Valley

crafts, permaculture, forest management, self employment, cycling

cheryl62blog

Time to change, live, encourage and reflect.

GARDEN OF EADY

Bring new life to your garden!

The Grey Enigma

Help is not coming. Neither is permisson. - https://twitter.com/Grey_Enigma

Ethereal Nature

The interface of the metaphysical, the physical, and the cultural

UP!::urban po'E.Tree(s)

by po'E.T. and the colors of pi

Kindness Blog

Kindness Images, Videos, True Life Stories, Quotes, Personal Reflections and Meditations.

Crazy Green Thumbs

Chronicling a delusional gardening experience.

New Hampsha' Bees

Raising bees holistically in New Hampshire

Dream, Play, Write!

Today, make a commitment to your writing.

Nicholas Andriani

Adventure Travel and Gastronomy, Passionately Explored

AM Simpson

Loves Final Kiss

Indie Hero

Brian Marggraf, Author of Dream Brother: A Novel, Independent publishing advocate, New York City dweller

Therapeutic Misadventures

Daily musings on life after 60 & recreating oneself

valeriu dg barbu

©valeriu barbu

Writing Out Loud

A Place of Observation

cancer killing recipe

Just another WordPress.com site

Archon's Den

The Rants & Rambles of A Grumpy Old Dude

hoosiersunshine13

Here we are, trapped in the amber of the moment. There is no why. -Kurt Vonnegut

Once upon a time... I began to write

My journey in writing a novel

Not a Day Over 45

A View from Mid-Life

theflexifoodie.wordpress.com/

Delicious plant-based, whole food recipes & my healthy living tips!

Sharon Rawlette

Memoirist. Essayist. Philosopher.

Diane Tibert

~ writer - editor - publisher ~

Amintiri din Bucătărie

Memories from the Kitchen

White Shadows

Story of a white pearl that turned to ashes while waiting for a pheonix to be born inside her !

At Home in New Hampshire

Living and Writing in the North East

JOSELYN'S BRAWL

Two rare, life-threatening diseases that led to a bone marrow transplant and a snappy Buttkick List