May you be free from fear... May you be free from desire...
May you be blessed with acceptance... May you be blessed with joy...
May you be blessed with acceptance... May you be blessed with joy...
![]() The house I grew up in is for sale. Wow. My mother and step Father have moved to their new digs in Longmont. The old place went on the market officially yesterday - open house this weekend... 825 W. 7th Ave. Dr. Broomfield, CO 80020. Yikes, that was the first address I ever memorized. I walked to kindergarten and walked home to this house for lunch every day. My Grandmother made snow bunnies and men and women in the yard here. There was a view when the trees were smaller and a short fence with her rose garden. The utility room was Grandpa's workshop and used to have Grandma's kiln and china painting supplies. The "red room" hasn't been red for a long time and the space under the stairs isn't a mystical, secret hiding space any longer. The piano that was upstairs along with the old console record player hasn't been present or heard in a long time... except in my mind. The Aloha Hawaii Reader's Digest collection still plays in my memory (Tiny bubbles!) as I play dress up and barbie dolls with Carol from down the street. And Grandma plays piano and the two of them sip champagne as they put up the Christmas tree. OMG! I can picture Grandpa shaving and brushing his teeth at the downstairs bathroom sink. I used to sleep in one of the twin beds in the front bedroom upstairs the one with the really weird red pointy pendant light. And I would run up an down the hill and hide and play. I crashed my trike and skinned my knee for the first time on that street and watched the birds and squirrels from the kitchen window. There was always African violets and the downstairs fire place going in winter and corned beef hash from the can or Lipton chicken noodle soup from the package! I could have died when I was blown off the slide at Kohl elementary and Grandma came to rescue me. I could go on and on and it was only me and them... no one else around to reminisce about these things... I'm all choked up for Pete's sake good grief! I didn't realize how poignant it was until I started tripping down memory lane... shit! Well there it is.. times change and we all move on. They bought the house new in the 60's. Wow! Miss you Grandma and Grandpa... miss you guys a REALLY LOT! August 19th - Update... the closing is on the 21st of August. Mom had to replace the 55 year old furnace! I added this post to my Facebook page on the day I wrote it and my cousin Rob had this to say. Very touching... thanks Rob! We'll all share some memories when I come home to visit. From Rob Hug posted on Facebook July 28th, 2017 9am Lots of good memories there. Where I learned to walk (Grandpa let me sip his beer then took it away, I went from crawling to miracle boy running in that one moment!). Countless days of lawn mowing and being happy to do it, some riding the bus up and having grandpa pay me double bus fair, to go home and come back, "that's how you know I think you did a good job, here's money to come back!". The lavender lotion, the crazy lamp, spending the night before snow storms to help shovel walks and the metal roof(!) Grandma teaching me to read, making rosaries, doing gymnastics and the bluejays that would sing to her. Grandpa standing near my bed with my newly broken arm joking about how with the Alzheimer's patients he was visiting, you only needed one good story, and could tell it over and over... great memories indeed! I hope someday I can be as good of a grandparent to my grandkids as they were to us! Comments are closed.
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Laurie Anne McCauleyDid that make you feel better? Intro
I decided back in November 2015 to make my poetry available and journal online. I'm not exactly sure what "blogging" means but I am quite sure this is an online journal. Feel free to read on with an aire of open minded curiosity. At no time do I intend to offend, judge or pretend to know anything really, I'm just an observer and explorer, as we all are. Feel free to "boldly go" through my observations and perhaps it will spark or inspire. Comments are off because I don't want to be worried about political correctness when I'm writing. I'm not thinking about "you." I'm just writing because it feels "right". Feel free to enjoy or surf on. LA McCauley Archives
November 2022
Fibber McGee's closet!
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