i hacked away at old plaster all morning. i’d arrived just after eight and greeted the builders who were running to and thro’ in a pleasurable enough manner. one of them silently handed me a proper flat bladed stone chisel, that proofed to be a far greater help to my predicament. after a morning of labour and a throat full of grit, and as i was peeling a satsuma in the dim shadow of the garden shed, i looked at our new, old house from the back and memories flooded in. you see, this is an old neighbourhood son and i are moving back into.
to the far left is the mansion (a little obliterated by the glaring sun). i remember charlotte, who was always up for a chat. the very spring son was born, i sat in our back garden that joined charlotte’s, and as i was snoozing over the whir of the neighbour's lawn mower, i still managed to read COMO AGUA PARA CHOCOLATE. while son laid snoring in his cot, i was adamant my life was going to add up to something. don’t get me wrong. my life has, only not to what i envisaged over ESQUIVEL’s novel. [if anything, the cooking happened!☻]
the house next to mine is lived in by danika after deedee and donald, & old sebastian lived there. she’s new to the neighbourhood, she’s still settling in. moving on to the other side of our modest dwelling i feel i need to point out hitler&braun, not mentioning the war. it’s a zone, alright. but we're getting somewhere, i'm sure. the house i used to live in with son and his father lies two houses down our door, and is an exact replica of our own place. how’s that for uncannyness? dad and i converse daily over the fence. we do bbq’s in season, and we hold dear memories, never mind our changed circumstances. somehow, these simple things in life deserve mentioning.
to the far left is the mansion (a little obliterated by the glaring sun). i remember charlotte, who was always up for a chat. the very spring son was born, i sat in our back garden that joined charlotte’s, and as i was snoozing over the whir of the neighbour's lawn mower, i still managed to read COMO AGUA PARA CHOCOLATE. while son laid snoring in his cot, i was adamant my life was going to add up to something. don’t get me wrong. my life has, only not to what i envisaged over ESQUIVEL’s novel. [if anything, the cooking happened!☻]
the house next to mine is lived in by danika after deedee and donald, & old sebastian lived there. she’s new to the neighbourhood, she’s still settling in. moving on to the other side of our modest dwelling i feel i need to point out hitler&braun, not mentioning the war. it’s a zone, alright. but we're getting somewhere, i'm sure. the house i used to live in with son and his father lies two houses down our door, and is an exact replica of our own place. how’s that for uncannyness? dad and i converse daily over the fence. we do bbq’s in season, and we hold dear memories, never mind our changed circumstances. somehow, these simple things in life deserve mentioning.
[real names in this little tell tale have been altered. my son is my son though.☻]
down below is me, playing ennio (morricone).
The tale... and the giant?
ReplyDeleteTo be continued!
How nice that you remain friends with your son's father. That is rare, and a great gift to your son, I'm sure.
ReplyDeleteI am continually amazed at the amount of work you accomplish with your own two hands!
I know exactly what you mean about what you think the future holds when your younger and a new Mom and it turns out all different but in a good way. Wow you could use a little extra help here and there. Someone to bring you flowers and wine. You live in an amazing neighborhood I love it! lovely post
ReplyDeletenice tale ... and oh, I liked Como agua para chocolate very much :)
ReplyDeleteIt's nice to return to a neighborhood with such personal history. You'll have improved the neighborhood by bringing the house back to life. It's going to be good ~ I feel it.
ReplyDelete