Home Again by Mama Baer
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Hello! Let me show you around this special place. To you, it might look like a parking lot, but if you can spare a minute, I will transport you back in time to a pale-yellow house not much bigger than a postage stamp on this very spot.You're right! The two front windows do reflect the mountains to the east this time of day. Oh, I'm glad you can see it, too. Come inside, the tour won't take long. Mom and Dad put their hearts and souls into this first home of theirs. Watch out for that screen door--it shuts fast! The front room seems smaller now, but look at that. The swamp cooler unit is still in the window. When Dad took it out for the season, we pushed the black and white TV stand back further against the wall. I love that framed art nailed to the paneling, too! Dad carved those geese and painted the burlap backing. Just step around the rocker and walk straight ahead. I never realized it, but our wooden bench would be a fantastic vintage modern piece. We fondly dubbed it "the stomachache bench." Lie face down on these three hard olive-green cushions and any aching stomach will be good as new in no time flat! Before you round the corner, notice the white kitchen timer with the black knob on the piano. Mom turned it all the way to sixty minutes every day for my piano practice. This piano reminds me of the night I performed Claire de Lune in a private concert for my grandparents. Take a left at the hall and three steps will land you in that little, wonderful kitchen. There were just the four of us then, but it does feel tiny. The white frilly curtains Mom made still hang in the window. Just look outside, would you? There it is. The best apricot tree in the land. My sister and I spent our summers right there in all that glorious shade. I could talk for hours about our summer adventures, but I know you need to leave soon. It's not more than three steps to the back door, but on your left is the pull-out cutting board, the one I accidentally pulled all the way out and dropped on my toe while making our weekly batch of chocolate chip cookies. Watch your step, actually two steps down to the fantastic screened-in porch. Can you believe it? Dad and Grandpa brought Mom's design to life. How can such a small space hold so many memories? Week-long Monopoly games on the picnic table, homemade divinity drying on waxed paper, and sleeping in the fold-up bed on warm summer nights. Just a few feet to the north takes you to the garage and the fruit room with the thick wooden door. Do you have time to poke your head in? Mom has it stocked for winter. Look at those rows of bottled fruit. And can you believe this tiny garage? There is Dad's workbench in the corner and the transistor radio he played while he worked. How did twenty first-graders fit in here for my sixth birthday party? I will walk you out; I've kept you too long. Go back through the kitchen and down the short hall. I forgot to tell you, the little bathroom on the left is where Dad pulled my first loose tooth! And they were so proud of that closet-turned-laundry room. Before you leave, the bedroom straight ahead I shared with my sister. The south wall is the one we used as a canvas for our crayon mural once (and only once)! We were grounded from crayons for a month. Oh, one last important thing. Before you go back out the front door, notice the white wall to your left. Every Friday night, that wall became a "giant" screen for the reel-to-reel movies Dad brought home from work. We pulled out the piano bench for a projector stand, spread blankets on the floor, and reveled in our good fortune. Goodbye, and watch that door!
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Mama Baer
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