More quirkiness at 2840

Whenever my siblings and I talk about our parents' home, the house where we pretty much all grew up, we just refer to it as "2840", which is the street address there.

So here are a few quirky things about this home, things I'll remember about my parents and this house after they're...gone.

The crow feeder.  This was once a squirrel feeder that I got my dad for Christmas,  but they have since become obsessed with the crows in the area and started feeding the crows table scraps on a daily basis.  They collect old meat scraps, bread, noodles, oatmeal, whatever, in a plastic bucket on the kitchen floor, then bring it out and slop it onto this wood thing.  Looks gross,  but they love watching the crows come to feast upon it.

I gave them this personalized rug for Christmas one year, and it hangs above our basement freezer. (the ice cream freezer).  It's from an old saying from their favorite radio show host, Garrison Keiler, of Prairie Home Companion.

ok, don't get scared now, but this is a part of the basement that always creeped me out: this dark tunnel that leads to an even creepier place, the storage room, a dark, damp place where my mom used to store all the jars of vegetables and fruits that she used to can, plus all sorts of other miscellaneous junk.  Once inside, with the light on, it's not so bad, but walking down there in the half-darkness always scared me, and pulling open that heavy door and listening to it scrape along the hard cement floor...I'd keep telling myself, "don't think about amytiville horror, nope-nope-nope-i am NOT going to think about amytiville horror and the last scary scene in the movie where they run back downstairs to get their dog and the walls are dripping blood...AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!! (or something like that, i refuse to watch it again to remember the details..)

Then there's my dad's big wood pile.  He is 90 years old, and up until recently, he has always loved to have logs brought to our yard, where he chops them himself, creates huge stacks of wood outside and in our basement, and then heats the home almost entirely just by using this wood stove.  It's his passion.  But now that he has cancer and is not doing well, this may soon be a thing of the past.

and thinking of these things makes me sad...andgodijustcan'tdothisican'tican'tican'tmyparentswouldbewillbedevastatediftheyknowbuti'mdyinginsidesosadsosadjustwanttobreakdownandcrycrycryandhavesomeonetoholdmeholdmeholdmesomeoneicanmeltintolikeabigteddybearwithskinonbutidon'thaveanyonelikethatneverdidgodpleasebemybigteddybearandholdmeholdmeholdmewhileicrycrycrymysoulkeepsgettingcutopendeeperdeeperdeeperandisoundsostupidanddesperatebutiamlordhelpmepleasei'mdying

oh and here's our creepy yucky basement shower...complete with a plethora of skinny daddy-long-legs spider running wild and free, and a cold trickle of water that takes for-ev-er to get past the lukewarm stage, and then you'd better not dare close both eyes or think about scary shower movies while shampooing...just don't.

and finally, my dad's little man cave, or office. this is where he sits, or used to sit, while doing his writing. he wrote and published one book down here and has been working on the second one. both about his days as a soldier in world war II. 

i will always cherish these spots in our home, at 2840, long after the house is cleaned out and sold. its ghosts of our growing up there will always remain. just as our love for our parents will remain in our hearts. i love you mama & papa.