I remember my parents telling me that they paid $6000 for the house I grew up in. Now the value of that house would be around $170,000. It was a decent house, needed some work. I remember the red wallpaper with gold eagle emblems all over it in our living room. The starburst clock above the sofa with wooden arms. Standing on the heating vent in my nightgown to try and stay warm. Listening through the vent on my bedroom floor to the scary movies I was not allowed to watch. The creepy dirt floor basement where we kept extra can goods and how I hated having to go down there. My sisters and I were the official "remote controls". We got up to change the channel when Dad asked us to. My kids will search for an hour before they would think of changing channels manually!
My Mom stayed home with the 5 of us but we entertained ourselves by playing records in our rooms, dancing, hide & seek, Barbie's, drawing, etc.... When the weather was good we would play outside until the street light came on or even later. Red light, Simon says and acorn fights. Yes, we would chuck acorns at each other. Not very safe and could be very painful depending who was throwing them.
My parents made sure we worked around the house. "Idle hands are the devil's workshop" was my Dad's favorite saying. He was a Mason and I remember all 5 of us having to chip the cement off of used bricks with a chisel so he could reuse them. No eye protection, no gloves, just 5 little girls with chisels chipping bricks. Cutting wood, stacking the firewood, weeding the garden while battling horseflies.
We lived in that house until I was 11 years old. I drove by it not to long ago and it looked so small. The fence I did tumbles on was gone, the chicken coop was gone and no sign that our vegetable garden ever existed.
My parents worked hard to provide for us and to keep a roof over our heads. It was no palace but it was Home Sweet Home and I cherish those memories.
