I'm ripping off a windows blog from my pal Rose who writes a wonderful blog nothing like mine here. Today's post, which you can read here is about windows and it brought to mind some windows in my life.
The first window that comes to my mind is a window in my grandmother's house. I spent the night with her a lot when I was a kid, or so it seems to me. In the summer, I would lay with my head at the foot of the bed. This arrangement allowed me to look out the open window, which was supposed to get a little breeze in the hot house and usually failed miserably. I would listen to the traffic on the busy street out front and listen to the bells from the church across the street. I imagined there was someone whose job was to ring the bells every hour.
My other grandmother had a big window in her bedroom and although I never spent very much time in my grandmothers' bedrooms, I have one memory of her room and it surrounds the big window with lovely filmy curtains gently blowing in a soft breeze coming in from the back yard.
I moved around a lot as a kid and then I found myself moving a lot as an adult. Finally, I moved to Des Moines and got myself a cute little apartment with old, drafty windows that I mostly kept covered up in cold weather. But cold or not, I didn't put up curtains at the kitchen window and I read something about how Army Brats sometimes don't do "permanent" things like put up curtains in kitchens. That was the window I looked out the most to check the weather, criminal activity in the laundromat parking lot and so on.
When I was a child, I spent a lot of time in a hospital in my hometown. I can remember being in the playroom with my mom when a building in the city caught on fire. We could see the black smoke from the window of the room.
I remember being alone with my dad one summer in a pick up truck that may or may not have had AC. I had my legs crossed, feet up on the dash and sunshine pouring through the front windshield. I believe the song on the radio was The Things We Do For Love by 10cc. The song, my tan legs, breeze in my hair and relaxed attitude made me feel carefree and grown up.
My grandson was born on my grandmother's birthday and I called to tell her as I stood at a window looking outside at a brick wall.
In the 7th grade, I swore because my brother and I missed the school bus and I got slapped as I walked back in the house. Apparently THAT window was open. Who knew? I certainly did not. I also didn't swear in front of my mother for decades, so ... well played, Mom!!
We lived in Tennessee in a house where my bed was between two windows. I can remember laying at the open window during a light rain storm. There were lilacs or honeysuckle outside and I could smell the strong fragrance. I wanted to remember that forever and so far I'm on track. Except for the honeysuckle/lilac debate. If I had to pick and lie to you about which one it was, I'd go with lilac.
In Texas I had a window at the foot of my bed and I slept with the window open so our cat Fritz could come and go at night. I usually woke up with him in my bed, but sometimes he woke me up as he came in.
My office of nine years has a window in it. In fact, the entire wall from side to side is glass. I look out at trees and deer and birds. In the past four years, there are fewer animals to look at and that makes me sad. Early on, I saw a raccoon asleep in a tree just feet from me. I wish the windows opened even just a crack on nice days, but they don't.
What surprises me is that as I'm thinking about windows, there aren't as many memorable windows as I think there should be. Also, the windows bring up only the smallest moments in time. I can't think of any big-ticket window moments.