You Can't Go Home Again

.
But you can visit the place where you used to live.

Today we spent the day having long delayed medical tests, which meant we were in San Jose. In order to stay off the freeway, we decided on surface streets, and found ourselves near the house where I spent a lot of my formative years.


Terry convinced me that I should knock on the door, so I timidly went up to the porch and rang the doorbell.

Only to hear the sound so familiar from my youth.
I remember how pleased my dad was with this clock
and the sonorous tones of the door chimes

A lovely woman named Blanche answered the door. I told her I had grown up in the house and she graciously let me come in and take a few pictures.

This house was my parents dream house. I remember them poring over the plans, making so many decisions, then changing them, then changing them again.

Finally, the plans complete, the ground was broken, we monitored the progress and finally moved in and lived there till I graduated from high school.

It turns out that Blanche and her husband were the couple who had bought this home from my parents. Short of some upgrades, they have left the house pretty much as built.

The memories flow . . .

My Mother looked for months for these draperies. She wanted something scenic and beautiful, and I can't begin to tell you how I felt to see them once again. They cover a huge plate glass wall that I remember so well . . .


My Dad added so many touches to this house. I was so pleased to see that Blanche has left so many of them intact. He was so proud of this built in clock.

We also had an intercom,
with speakers in every room.
That was pretty cool for 1960.

He also had a small room, soundproofed, just for his stereo equipment. I remember a huge reel to reel tape deck. He'd spend hours in there, mixing music and making tapes.

Here's one thing I had completely forgotten. For some reason, my Father had chosen western themed light fixtures in all the bedrooms. Three daughters and we all went to sleep with these over our heads,


Wow, this was the bathroom I shared with my middle sister. When my older sister got married, she moved down the hall and this was all mine.

What a trip, the turquoise sinks,
toilet and tub were still there!

And I remember
that I got to pick out this tile myself.
For a young girl,
this was quite a decision.
I still like it.

Finally, here's the slide
that goes down to the swimming pool.
LOTS of good times in that swimming pool.
Notice the brick planter.
This was also my Dad's design.
We all thought it was pretty cool
to have a swimming pool
built around a giant brick planter.

This was a wonderful, nostalgic afternoon,
I'd like to thank Blanche
and her Grandson Tristan
for allowing me to take
this trip down memory lane.