About me: I'm 42 and added another gherkin to our pickle party of a family. My husband Chuck, our 9-year-old Junior, our 6-year-old Everett, our toddler and I live in a town in Connecticut I affectionately call Mulletville Lite (aka my childhood hometown). My friends call me Nutjob, and they're right. In my husband's spare time he dresses up as a Viking and chases ghosts (and I'm the nutjob?). When I'm not busy working as a graphic designer, I lie in a ball in the corner.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Where your path takes you
We're still drying out from last week's flood. That picture above is/was my dining room. Somewhere in there a leftover Christmas poinsettia is being attacked by mold spores dragged up from our basement.
Just when I thought my house couldn’t possibly get more cluttered, my father stopped by. He lives in Mulletville Lite a few towns over, and his basement flooded too. While wading through the relics in his basement, he found some crap from my childhood—and decided to reunite me with it.
Some of the things are in good shape. Like this Fisher Price Play Family A Frame House, circa 1974.
Love A frames.
And the 1970 Fisher Price Parking Ramp Service center, now deemed vintage.
Junior's been having a blast playing with the legless family. They've been driving all over town. For them, life was new and exciting all over again.
Then, the inevitable happened. Junior inched them closer to the tracks. No! Not the tracks.
And announced that they were going to the Island of Sodor.
I can only imagine their disappointment. Thirty years in a basement only to end up there? Or maybe I'm projecting. Onto little plastic people with no discernible limbs or genitals.
Don't judge me. It's been a long month.