Tuesday, May 22, 2012

That Old Brick House


808 East Belvedere Avenue.
I can picture the house in my mind's eye as clearly as if I had been there just yesterday. 
I can hear the greeting: "Well how's my favorite granddaughter!" 
And I know my reply: "Oh, but I'm your only granddaughter!"
After hugs on the sidewalk and another in the doorway, we'd make our way inside where there would be home made raisin bread in the kitchen and a baseball game on the television. There would be snacks and chatter. Daddy and Doc would focus on the fuzzy, black and white transmission of the game, and I'd wander about the house visiting all the trinkets that I'd grown to love. Everything was always in the exact same spot as it had been on our last visit...so it was easy to ask my questions and hear my favorite stories about my daddy growing up in this very house.

808 East Belvedere Avenue.
A small, unassuming brick house. With three black numbers over the front door. There were wrought iron light fixtures and decorative grills at the base of the windows. I loved that house. What happened there was predictable and safe. When we were in that house, my daddy was always 'home' - always with us. It was a place where my mom's voice faded, and there was a glimpse into another world.

When I walk around the center of the pretty town where I work, I find myself surrounded by beautiful, old brick. And pretty wrought iron. And I just love it. The details in the brick work and the worn, wrought iron trimmings are so pretty to me. I enjoy old buildings...there's a comfort to me in the thought that they've weathered years, lasted...are still homes, or shops...and today these buildings are taking me back to my grandparents' old, brick house.







Black and White Wednesday

11 comments:

  1. Sweet memories...fortunate to be surrounded by beautiful things that comfort you. The past and the present becoming one.

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  2. you tell a beautiful story, i hang on every word!!

    your images are so pretty!!

    i like spending my nights with you!!

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  3. What beautiful memories. I could almost smell the raisin bread.

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  4. oh this is just beautiful, the writing and the pictures :)

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  5. This house looks quite mysterious, but beautiful; sweet story too :)

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  6. Your words and photos fit perfectly together!! Sweet memories, for sure!

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  7. These photos are fantastic! I love your post! So warm and sweet. :) Grandparents are the best!

    Lisa

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  8. It just seems that, for most of us, memories of our grandparents' homes are some of the sweetest, most vivid.

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  9. I love old buildings and homes too. And what a lovely memory of your grandparents. I always remember my grandparents' home as a riot of a place because we were always congregating there as a family. With so many aunts and uncles and cousins, I've always loved celebrations there.

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  10. Adrienne,

    What a coincidence that we both wrote about our grandparents' home and posted photos of robins!

    I enjoyed reading your description of the old house and of your fond memories from that time.

    Thanks for your kind comments on my blog!

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  11. Love these detail shots Adrienne, and the memories that they invoke.

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