Walking To Yesterday
First, I'd like to wish a very happy birthday to unquietsoul5, and many happy returns.
Second...I took a walk through the past on Saturday with Sebastian, and I'd like to remember it.
I've told him a lot about my maternal grandparents. Unfortunately I don't really remember my paternal grandparents; they died when I was quite young. But I've told him a lot about Ma and Hyrig, and their house in West Roxbury.
We had a lot of fun in that house. Kids could run all around the house through the hallway, and we did, often. Particularly during large family get-togethers, which happened often. We'd listen to Armenian music, eat Armenian food, and me and my brother and sister and my cousins would run around like crazy. Sometimes we went down to the basement, which was pretty much finished with carpets; my grandfather kept a lot of oriental rugs down there, too. They had shelves with tons of canned foods, as do (did) many people who survived the Great Depression.
The place was magical. On the second floor the roof made the ceiling slope in on the sides; two small doors in the sides of the two bedrooms led to crawlspaces in the attic. The house was filled with all sorts of unusual and interesting things. And I only regret that I can't capture the smell of the place.
Not to mention the wonderful things that my grandmother cooked.
The house was sold in the 1990s, by the way. I was living there at the time; I stayed with my grandmother after I graduated from college. All in all, I lived there at least six months or more.
I've told Sebastian a lot about that time. And when I went up with him this Saturday, he told me that he wanted to see it; that he was going to live there when he grew up, and I'd be living there with him.
We go near West Roxbury on the way to Brookline, so I said "what the hell!" and went up a road that I hadn't been on in a decade. I found Joyce Kilmer Lane quite easily, but had to call my mother to make sure that I had the house number right; I knew that I was looking at the right house, but it looked impossibly small. And it couldn't have been that I'd grown since I'd last seen it; after all, I lived there for six months or more when I was in my twenties, and if anything I've shrunk since then.
But that was the house, for sure. I took a couple of photos while Sebastian watched; I had to explain to him that we couldn't go in, which bothered him a little (it bothered me, too).
Then...I was in a nostalgic mood. We weren't far from an old bakery that's a favorite of my family, Hanley's. Parking was a real pain, but eventually I managed to find a spot at the nearby commuter rail.
Stepping in was like stepping back into my childhood...or even further back, into the forties. Apart from the modern clothes that the girls bhind the counter were wearing, the whole place could have been lifted bodily from fifty years ago and transported there overnight.
We got four muffins and three half-moons, and took them over to my parents' place. They were just as good as I remembered.
I have to remember not to wait so long before I go there again...
Second...I took a walk through the past on Saturday with Sebastian, and I'd like to remember it.
I've told him a lot about my maternal grandparents. Unfortunately I don't really remember my paternal grandparents; they died when I was quite young. But I've told him a lot about Ma and Hyrig, and their house in West Roxbury.
We had a lot of fun in that house. Kids could run all around the house through the hallway, and we did, often. Particularly during large family get-togethers, which happened often. We'd listen to Armenian music, eat Armenian food, and me and my brother and sister and my cousins would run around like crazy. Sometimes we went down to the basement, which was pretty much finished with carpets; my grandfather kept a lot of oriental rugs down there, too. They had shelves with tons of canned foods, as do (did) many people who survived the Great Depression.
The place was magical. On the second floor the roof made the ceiling slope in on the sides; two small doors in the sides of the two bedrooms led to crawlspaces in the attic. The house was filled with all sorts of unusual and interesting things. And I only regret that I can't capture the smell of the place.
Not to mention the wonderful things that my grandmother cooked.
The house was sold in the 1990s, by the way. I was living there at the time; I stayed with my grandmother after I graduated from college. All in all, I lived there at least six months or more.
I've told Sebastian a lot about that time. And when I went up with him this Saturday, he told me that he wanted to see it; that he was going to live there when he grew up, and I'd be living there with him.
We go near West Roxbury on the way to Brookline, so I said "what the hell!" and went up a road that I hadn't been on in a decade. I found Joyce Kilmer Lane quite easily, but had to call my mother to make sure that I had the house number right; I knew that I was looking at the right house, but it looked impossibly small. And it couldn't have been that I'd grown since I'd last seen it; after all, I lived there for six months or more when I was in my twenties, and if anything I've shrunk since then.
But that was the house, for sure. I took a couple of photos while Sebastian watched; I had to explain to him that we couldn't go in, which bothered him a little (it bothered me, too).
Then...I was in a nostalgic mood. We weren't far from an old bakery that's a favorite of my family, Hanley's. Parking was a real pain, but eventually I managed to find a spot at the nearby commuter rail.
Stepping in was like stepping back into my childhood...or even further back, into the forties. Apart from the modern clothes that the girls bhind the counter were wearing, the whole place could have been lifted bodily from fifty years ago and transported there overnight.
We got four muffins and three half-moons, and took them over to my parents' place. They were just as good as I remembered.
I have to remember not to wait so long before I go there again...