2023-04_April-TLP_Finding-Me_Home_4_right
- Description
- A Whimsical Adventure - Periwinkle Poetry
Kristin Aagard - FWP INSD-2022
TLP Collab - Home, Community, World
Journaling reads:
1976 - 1993
3311 Enterprise Drive, Rockford, Illinois - We contacted a realtor, gave her our budget and were shown a number of houses, just under ten. We made a decision based on location and cost. We were outside of the city limits, our little bit of suburbia. Taxes were affordable, the home stood on 1/2 acre with fruit trees, two massive weeping willows, a retaining wall, rock steps leading to the front of the house, and flower beds just waiting for us to plant and cultivate.
We moved on July 17, 1976. Our possessions were few. We borrowed a truck from John’s employer, and family helped with the move, including my dad and brothers who drove in from Chicago. Grandma C stayed in the kitchen, washing dishes as they came out of the packing boxes.
It was an exposed ranch that had a separate lower entrance, perfect for John’s business and music friends. A one-car heated garage was part of the basement. The house’s exterior was painted a dark gray with white and a bright red front door. We immediately began making it our own. Not having a lot of money, we began remodeling it ourselves. We stripped the kitchen cabinets of their white paint to let the woodgrain show. We removed all of the wall-to-wall carpeting, including an awful red mosaic in the kitchen.
We discovered that the flooring throughout most of the house was hardwood; we rented a floor sander, and removed the dirt and grime from them. When money allowed, we bought the perfect linoleum for our kitchen and bathroom. Our personalities were now shining through.
We lived with the exterior colors for many years. But in 1982, I have photographs of our home and its new colors, red and brown with white accents. That bright red door was replaced with a natural wood stain. The house now blended into nature, our own “cabin” of sorts.
Seventeen years later, it was time to move on. The cute neighborhood kids grew up and began selling drugs. We even have photographs of them exchanging money on our property. Loud music drifted over to our place. Visits to parents proved fruitless.
