The House Where Nobody Lives

The House Where Nobody Lives, originally uploaded by daradactyl.

One of the first guys to arrive at the yard sale ( 30 minutes early) bought a big box of dolls and my doll house. Actually, it's a miniature house that I loved working on when I was in high school. I made furniture, food items, dishes, all sorts of things. It was more about fabrication than dolls. Actually, it never had tiny people in it. But I loved it and I loved working on it.

It stayed in it's corner for years and years, waiting to be loved by another.

When I sold it, I had the idea that I would be selling it to someone whose daughter was interested in minuatures. But the man was very interested in the whole kit, so he took it for $5.

I was so happy about it until at the end of the sale, I realized he had taken everything out of the house and left the house by the trash.

It was soaked with rain and falling apart by then.

Oddly, it mirrors this house where I grew up. It has been sitting patiently for someone to love it. But it is becoming ever more clear that it is quickly turning to trash.

I hope we can sell it for more than $5, though.

When your past lives on a porch...

When your past lives on a porch..., originally uploaded by daradactyl.

I can't describe what it feels like to have so many things you remember from childhood - bits of ephemora here and there - all sits together on your porch, waiting for a new home.

To have all that gathered as if to say, "This was the Modglin household, " feels like a misrepresentation. It is but highlights, or lowlights, of the Modglin house. Things my Mom and Dad liked, or collected, things they probably treasured. But that is gone. And what We, my brother and I, don't treasure, gets passed along to a new adventurer, all for a quarter.

Perhaps the real value of something is found in how much it is loved.

Memories Pour In

Memories Pour In, originally uploaded by daradactyl.

I keep finding stacks of photos and a new set of memories gets triggered.

In this stack of polaroids, there is my favorite photo of my Mom and Dad. It was New Years, 1984. It was probably the biggest party my anti-social parents ever had. They look so happy. It was the last great photo I have of them. Later that year, my Mom was diagnosed with a brain tumor (same one my Dad had this year) and things were never the same.

Also in this stack, I found Gatlinburg photos from a trip I took in my Freshman year of college with my new college friends. I'm pretty sure that trip was the basis for a screwball comedy in the early 80s. It came complete with overheated radiator.

And finally, the photos my Dad took of the TV screen when he got high score on Ateroids (Atari, of course.)

Mystery #1

Mystery #1, originally uploaded by daradactyl.

I cleaned out the linen closet today. It was pretty tame, so it didn't take long. There was one set of sheets that I remember from high school. And the rest I remember as being part of my parents linens. And then the newer ones I didn't recognize at all.

After packing them all up for the Salvation Army, I noticed something shoved to the back of the closet behind an outcropping of wood where my Dad had fashioned a shelving unit in the bathroom on the other side of the wall.

It was one of his paintings.

I remember very well this painting. It's from 1975. The black velvet years. I rather liked this one. I thought the cheese and his fabrics always worked well. But in this one, the sad overtones are a little disturbing. Besides the obvious noose on the tree and the cheese board, the knife stuck into the wood where the wine shadow is - makes it look like a knife through the heart. What on earth happened in 1975?

I'm Back!!

I'm Back!!, originally uploaded by daradactylBacktylfromEurope.

Now about this scarf. It has been in a bag since July 30, 2000. That's when I returned from my Mother's funeral. This was the scarf that the funeral home/make-up/dresser people put on her head since she had lost most of her hair during radiation therapy. The scarf matched her dress, which in turn matched the interior of the coffin. On a strange note, it also matched the glitter, yes I said glitter, that was on top of the lead liner thing that the casket was in once we got to the cemetery. Glitter? Really? How disco. The funeral director gave the scarf to me after they closed the casket. It smelled of formaldehyde. I hated that my Mom smelled like the things we dissected in Biology. And so it sat in a bag in storage until last week. It now smells like a storage box. Like a mix of cardboard, mildew and memories.

Golden Nugget, Christmas Night, 2008

Golden Nugget, Christmas Night, 2008, originally uploaded by daradactyl.

Pork chops and bad spaghetti. It was awesome.

We started out our very long trip on Christmas day. Not a bad idea. Everyone is very nice and the airports are not so crowded. The Chicago diversion was meant to visit my 97-yr-old Great Aunt Ruth who is not well. I'm telling you this because there are tons of people in Chicago I didn't visit and this is why. Too little time, one focus. Granted Aunt Ruth was so unwell that we ended up not seeing her at all, so we went to museums and met a couple of people in the city.

So we landed in Chicago at about 8p and cabbed to Tim's house where we were guaranteed a place for free as long as we fed his cats and fish. You see, Tim is in Wales with his wife and although we were meant to have a short visit, our paths did not cross this time.

However...

We got to his address and I realized I had no idea which apartment he lives in. We considered trying the keys in each door and I did try it on one door. But in the second apartment I could tell there were people at home. So we knocked and disturbed some very nice people during their Christmas Dinner.

They told us Tim lived on the floor above and up we went. Of course, once safe inside I also realized that I had no idea if we were meant to feed the fish, how much and if the cats were allowed out. So many missing details. Also, Tim's wife mentioned we could use her car. But trouble was we had no idea which car was hers or where on the streets of Chicago's Northside it might be parked.

We were in for a mystery.

Being hungry and it being Christmas, we knew our options were slim. I was hoping for a Christmas Story type Chinese Dinner. No luck. We ended up at the only thing open within walking distance. Golden Nugget. The Dennys of Chicago. With less pancakes.

It was a staple of my early years in Chicago back in the eighties. And it hasn't changed except the waitresses are younger. We had bad diner food. It was a Christmas Miracle.

Uploaded by daradactyl on 27 Jan 09, 7.00PM PST.

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