I have some very fond memories of my parents and growing up first in Dallas, and then in Garland. I was so lucky; I had a wonderful childhood and I loved my mom and dad very much, and they loved me too. Truthfully, I loved being an only child. My parents were strict with my behavior, but they were encouraging and nurturing too. And, I have to admit, my dad spoiled me when it came to buying me almost anything I wanted.
That first house in Dallas was off of Northwest Highway, over by Skillman. One of my first memories involved Halloween. We celebrated two Halloweens in that house. Of course, being born in September, I don't remember the first one. The second, though, scarred me forever. I was toddling, and on Halloween, mom let me "answer" the door when the trick-or-treaters came. I could just barely hold the basket with the candy. At some point in the evening, two kids came by who were dressed like vampires. They were carrying a kid-sized coffin that they made themselves. Well, that scared the bejeesus out of me and I fled with the candy basket, dropping it on the way and spilling all the candy! To this day, I loathe answering the door for trick-or-treaters and I think that first Halloween is why.
My first memory of my dad comes from Christmas when we lived in Dallas. Someone had gotten me a blow-up Santa, about two feet tall. Apparently it wouldn't stay inflated, and my solution to the problem was to run and get daddy and a screwdriver--because daddy with a screwdriver could fix anything!
When we first moved to Garland, we lived on a circle drive. Behind every house on our side of the circle, there was unimproved land--fields and "forest." We always had something interesting going on at that house, since it was practically in the country at the time! (Now, South Garland High School is only about half a mile from there) We had wild horses (yes, wild horses) run down our alley one day. I was so disappointed because mom made me come inside.
That same house saw more than its fair share of other animls, mostly frogs and snakes, too. I didn't like snakes, nor did mom. She killed one while she was working in the yard once and tossed it over the fence. She got a little too forceful, and the snake ended up hanging from a tree branch in the "forest" next to our house. Frogs, however, were a different story. I loved them and showed no fear of touching them or picking them up--in fact, one morning while mom and dad were still sleeping, I found the tiniest little frog (about the size of my fingernail) and brought it in the house to show them. Mom woke up and in her most patient voice, told me to take the frog back outside. On the way out, though, I dropped the little thing, and my mom says I ran down the hall screaming, "No froggy no!" I think it took at least one adult to get the tiny thing caught and back outside!
Another of my favorite memories at that house involves the playhouse my dad built me. He found the plans in a magazine, and immediately commenced building it in our backyard. I was entranced from the moment I saw the picture! He'd come home after work (and this was before he took a partner, so he was extremely busy) and I'd beg him to go out and work on it, even in the dark. I think I told him that he could just rig up a big light and work that way. He modified the plans slightly, making the playhouse one story rather than two. I loved it though! It was painted pink and had two real windows and a dutch door. Daddy made a little refrigerator and oven for the inside, and I had a table and chairs. Mom made a sink out of a square cake pan, and I had a mirror made from an old medicine cabinet door. I even had a tiny little ironing board. Playing in that little house was just the best!
This is the original picture that Daddy copied to make my house. Besides the second story, the only things that differed were the transom window and the lamp post. My mom even painted the chimney to look just like the picture.
That first house in Dallas was off of Northwest Highway, over by Skillman. One of my first memories involved Halloween. We celebrated two Halloweens in that house. Of course, being born in September, I don't remember the first one. The second, though, scarred me forever. I was toddling, and on Halloween, mom let me "answer" the door when the trick-or-treaters came. I could just barely hold the basket with the candy. At some point in the evening, two kids came by who were dressed like vampires. They were carrying a kid-sized coffin that they made themselves. Well, that scared the bejeesus out of me and I fled with the candy basket, dropping it on the way and spilling all the candy! To this day, I loathe answering the door for trick-or-treaters and I think that first Halloween is why.
That same house saw more than its fair share of other animls, mostly frogs and snakes, too. I didn't like snakes, nor did mom. She killed one while she was working in the yard once and tossed it over the fence. She got a little too forceful, and the snake ended up hanging from a tree branch in the "forest" next to our house. Frogs, however, were a different story. I loved them and showed no fear of touching them or picking them up--in fact, one morning while mom and dad were still sleeping, I found the tiniest little frog (about the size of my fingernail) and brought it in the house to show them. Mom woke up and in her most patient voice, told me to take the frog back outside. On the way out, though, I dropped the little thing, and my mom says I ran down the hall screaming, "No froggy no!" I think it took at least one adult to get the tiny thing caught and back outside!
Another of my favorite memories at that house involves the playhouse my dad built me. He found the plans in a magazine, and immediately commenced building it in our backyard. I was entranced from the moment I saw the picture! He'd come home after work (and this was before he took a partner, so he was extremely busy) and I'd beg him to go out and work on it, even in the dark. I think I told him that he could just rig up a big light and work that way. He modified the plans slightly, making the playhouse one story rather than two. I loved it though! It was painted pink and had two real windows and a dutch door. Daddy made a little refrigerator and oven for the inside, and I had a table and chairs. Mom made a sink out of a square cake pan, and I had a mirror made from an old medicine cabinet door. I even had a tiny little ironing board. Playing in that little house was just the best!
This is the original picture that Daddy copied to make my house. Besides the second story, the only things that differed were the transom window and the lamp post. My mom even painted the chimney to look just like the picture.
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Thanks for reading Puff the Magic Dragon!