WITH MAYBE... A PICKET FENCE
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I spotted, one day, in my extensive travels around
New Mexico, over in Clovis, in a quiet neighborhood---
a neat little two-bedroom house---a place to escape to--
in the summer...get away from it all...you know...
The little cozy place was built around mid-1940 and
probably cost a whopping $4000, even with
its indoor real-plaster walls and shiny hardwood floors
like you wouldn't believe.
The neighborhood seems a bit run-down and people,
in the whole area seem to have let their lawns
go, and I reckon the elm disease took most of the
trees...so yes, It does look BARE!
The little white house on the corner seems to have
had a rather recent stucco job and a new roof.
They re-did the inside in 1980...I just happened to
be driving by there, saw the work-van, and
stopped for minute...I was interested in that house,
even then.
I reckon everyone needs a little "cottage-type" place
to slip away from the madding crowds of the
big city---a quiet little town---good sidewalk for walks---
a place to read...and write poetry...and ponder...
and believe it or not, that little town and that neighborhood
is filled with history...from WWII times.
It'd need be fixed up--the yard and all...if I had it, I'd
(just visualize) run a paved driveway, put a block
fence all the way around it...about four feet tall, with a
two foot white picket fence on top of the blocks...
I'd plant about eight or nine nice-size trees all the
way around to the alley...I'd have a nice lawn all
the way around the front, with gravel next to the
curbs....and shrubs and roses right next to the
house itself...
A good idea would be a little driveway, headed into
the property right behind the house....leaving
a whole back corner next to the street for a garden,
for tomatoes, squash, okra, black-eye peas...
and a row of Kentucky Wonder beans...
A little tool shed/work room out back, where it
looks like a cow shed once stood...maybe
Well, you get the idea...a cool hideaway to just
get lost now and then...and you know,
that day in 1980 when the guy was remodeling
and the doors were standing open, I went
in and walked around and had a strange sense
of deja vu....
I even looked in that big front closet, with all the
shelves, and found myself checking for any
puzzles, Monopoly, Tinker Toys, marbles, or
Lincoln Logs---some little kid might have left
up there in the corner of the top shelf...
It would cost me likely $30,000 dollars to really
landscape and fix up that place, good and
proper, not to even mention what it would cost
to buy it...and would it ever look spiffy!
Maybe the neighbors might even be inspired...
Its trees, lawns, shrubs, and greenery
that the area sorely needs...
Well, there's no use in trying to fool you, my
sharp reader...YES...that little house WAS
my home....from October 1940 until the autumn
of 1948.... a heap 'o livin' took place there,
and the BIG ONE...WWII...
That day in 1980, when I went into the empty
house, and the guy was working in the
kitchen, the same inlaid kitchen linoleum--
white, with black and red speckles---was
still on the floor...
And over there where the stove stood, was
where Mother put that soda in the
boiling-hot syrupy peanut brittle...bringing
it to a thick, frothy mixture...with the kids
hanging on every movement...
I have written about this great place, several
times, each time enumerating our young
and happy lives (They say: "Every boy deserves
a good boyhood.") So it's been fun to keep on
remembering, but...
I will tell you, that that day in 1980 that I stopped
by 1100 Reid, there on the corner...when I
left our house, I walked north there on the
sidewalk....looking for any old friends...
Next door was Don's house...I guess he was
grown-up (he always had the latest "funny books.")
Next was Mrs. Purselly's place....and then that
contractor...and then during the war, the
actress Priscilla Lane, lived in the next house---
her husband was a captain out at the
Clovis Army Air Force Base.
On the other side lived James and Frances, and
Charles, and then Lita and Sonya, and
the Barela boys...Mickey and his brother lived
at the north end....
Old Reid Street was worn down more I reckon,
by the kids playing there and crossing
at all hours to see each other, than it was by
the traffic...and I thought, that day in ‘80,
I could see grooves in the sidewalk, worn there
by roller skates...many years ago.
No, I didn't see any of the kids...after all, they
were mostly all around fifty years old...and
many are gone...today.
So, there you have it...I may never get my
summer house, that little white one on that
corner lot in Clovis...but if I do, I'm going to
enlist Bobby Joe, the best model airplane
builder of that era (41-45), to build me a
Thunderbolt, like I had once, to hang
there in the front bedroom...
from the light fixture.
Have you ever thought about it---those old
houses...could tell wonderful stories.
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BY MIL
3/22/16
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