My parents live on a cul-de-sac (and, thanks to the Gilmore Girls I know to say "There are several culs-de-sac in that neighborhood" as the plural). You can see the end of my car sticking out -- I never took a pic of my parents house. Not only did I just plain forget, I never asked them if they would mind if I posted it on the www. 'Cause, as you might imagine, the paparazzi for my childhood home ... out of control!
This is the cul-de-sac. I think there were only 2 other houses on this street when we moved in about 32 years ago. So I have wandered through most of these homes in their early construction phases. I have ridden bikes and go-carts millions of miles those last 100 feet of street, as well as learned to drive -- an automatic AND standard transmission vehicle. I've used the path between two of the houses -- pre-privacy fences -- to walk through to a friend's house on the street behind. I don't feel particularly sentimental about this street, but I sure have given it a lot of mileage. 
This is the church where my parents still worship. Yes, it's funny looking, and you don't even want to know what kind of quotes they recently got for re-roofing. Now, I think I do feel a little sentimental about this crazy building. This is the only church I knew as 'home' for 18 years. I was baptized in that baptistry, and my friend Christy's 'Uncle Bill' (who we all called Uncle Bill) kept it locked and heated and cooled for years. I attended the nursery and worked in the nursery there. I scared myself and tried to scare others at lock-ins there. I stood in the front of that church and exchanged rings, vows, and one big kiss with my man at that church. I have showed off my babies there, and they have been appropriately 'oohed' and 'ahhed' over. When I think about the church where I grew up, I don't think about this building, the roofline, or the horrible accoustics (yes, the inside of the auditorium does the same thing). I think about the faces of folks -- most of them no longer on this planet -- loving me through my childhood.
This is the Bayou Desiard Country Club. Yes, that is Bayou Desiard, and it is in front of the Country Club. Original, no? I confess that this is a part of where I'm from that I hesitate to share. Partly because I just heard Denver Moore speak, it's hard to think of how he grew up, not far from this spot, as opposed to how I grew up. But, Denver also said, in speaking of his own past experiences and tragedies, "It's what happened then that made me who I am now." And the country club life was very much part of my growing up years. I've been to at least 500 Sunday lunches there (amazing buffet), swam in the pool every summer, rode the cart while my then-fiance, now-husband, gave a round of golf a try (and decided that next time he'll bring his shotgun). I have celebrated some wonderful occasions in that building: my grandparents 50th wedding anniversary, my Poppa Max's 90th birthday, and my personal favorite was my wedding reception held in there, almost 16 years ago now.
I have to also tell you a little about the bayou. I realized how remiss I had been in telling about my hometown when someone that I know fairly well asked me (after I was singing the obligatory 'Jambalaya' about having big fun on the bayou) if there was an actual bayou. Uh, yeah there is! I have skied and floated and boated in that bayou. The road where I took this picture was on my way to my school, and I loved to watch the fog crawl up the banks of the bayou on chilly fall mornings. Off to the right you can't see the road that crosses the bayou. When I was in high school a truck drove off of that road into the bayou. The daddy and little girl got out, but Momma couldn't swim. My dad, who witnessed the accident, went in and got her. (Yes, my dad, who said he didn't have a story to tell!!) My senior party was a skiing party on that bayou. Lots of memories for me around the bayou.
This is just a picture from the end of the street where I lived before we moved to the cul-de-sac. Where all those houses are used to be a HUGE cotton field. I always loved the symmetry of the rows when we drove by.
This is just a random Cypress tree, complete with moss hanging all over it. See that little bitty shed at the bottom? Yeah, that's a house... Dear friends in West Texas: this is a tree. Maybe now you will understand why I just can't get on board with the shrubs we have around here.
13 comments:
Thanks for the tour! It was delightful!
Okay. . .for our 33 years of friendship and the COUNTLESS number of hours I spent at your house, I NEVER knew you lived on a cul de sac. Ever. Not until this very moment when I read it. I guess that explains why there was NEVER any traffic in front of your house. Of course, I think I only went into your back yard one time. . .what was that about? Your parent's room, Kevin's room, the play room, the dining room, the living room, the kitchen. . .all cemented in my memory--but nothing outside except for the driveway. AND you TOTALLY threw me off 'cause you took a picture of the house coming from the wrong direction. . .the direction of the cul de sac, I suppose. I never once approached your house that it was on my left rather than my right.
And when I clicked the link for OCS, it made my throat get tight and my stomach get tight and . . .too many memories to go back there. I'm such a wimp.
I, too, have remembrances of the Country Club, but all of them revolve around you since that's the only reason I ever darkened the door. . .and your reception is high on the list of fave events there, but the GINORMOUS floral arrangement that I held on my lap after Max and Maxine's 50th TAKES THE CAKE as for as memories.
And let's hear it for an actual TREE!!!!!!! With Spanish Moss!!!!!! You. Go. Girl. The thing that is still so hard for me to grow accustomed to in Houston is that huge live oaks and palm trees grow side by side. Freaky, man.
Roxanne, I love ya more than my luggage, but a)yes, you knew I lived on a cul-de-sac due to driving your ginormous barge of a vehicle to the end of it to turn around on occasion, and b)I am facing the cul-de-sac, my parents house (and the back end of my car) are on the right. Bless ya -- Ike has got your brain bumfoozled.
Lordy, but I am all turned around. One of the saddest days of my life was when I got lost going the back way to your parent's house when Daddy had his open heart surgery. I lost my way. How is that possible??? Of course it WAS dark and Aunt Norma was driving.
And I'm glad you love me more than your luggage. . .and I had to come back over here to look at Forsythe again, 'cause when I was a kid, I LOVED that roof-line. I thought it was the most amazing thing I'd ever seen. . .and don't even get me STARTED on the light fixtures with the crosses cut into them. Central had no such frills. My first experiences of OCS chapel were in that very auditorium with you--as well as baccalaureate and reams of other things--like Super Pickle dresses.
For all of the things I remember, I do NOT remember ever having driven to the end of your cul de sac in either The Yacht OR The Tank--though I don't doubt it. I was probably talking at the time. Or dreaming of Jason. Or drinking an ICEE. Or rushing to get home 'cause I'd stayed too long at your house.
Speak not of Ike. We are pretending that hurricane season is over since our district has not cancelled school on Friday. Shame on them.
Well, Rox, those light fixtures with the crosses are on life support. You see, we're about to join the 20th Century (hey, we'll get to the current one soon enough) by installing a real, sho-nuff projection system and new sound system. Sad fact is the hangy-down fixtures will block some of the sight lines to the new screen. So they will be tossed.
But I'm glad you liked them.
I agree, a delightful tour! Louisana is a fun place to be from, and I'm loving the Gilmore Girls reference:)
I look forward to meeting your friend at UCC!
Loved the tour. And, yes, THAT is a tree!
Oh. . .man. . .I cannot BELIEVE you are tossing the light fixtures. I KNOW they are probably hideous in "real life" but in the Land of Remebrance they will be forever beautiful. . .like the taste of peach icecream dipped out of a cardboard bucket at the Quickstop down the road--perfect in my memory.
Loved the narrative about growing up in Monroe.
And with tile floors we have newfound acoustical magic!
This church building first struck me as odd...but has grown on me. I think, though, it's mostly the people that gather in it to worship Abba.
I'm curious about the bayou. How deep is it? It looks very contained - are they all like that? How many bridges does it have? Did you have to cross water to get anywhere?
That is one funky building. I'm amazed that the ceiling looks like that - strange.
Maybe Roxanne can have a couple of the fixtures for her new house!
Ya'll just never tried playin' golf until you walked out on that green with a fine double in your hand and a huge smile on your face while everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, moved out of your way to accommodate your brand of match play!
There's just something wrong with a gentleman walking around on a cultivated, beautiful stretch of manicured lawn under giant moss-covered sentinels without a firearm tucked under his arm to keep him company.
-TMS
Hey, Mike. See if you CAN hook me up with one or two of the old lights. I doubt that Tony would allow them in the house, but they'd look WAY cool in some of our trees. :)
I loved seeing the pictures from home - different side of the river (that would be another post!) - but home all the same. My husband is from W Texas and his parents are in Abilene. They talk about trees and I laugh - they have bushes at best. You show a real tree! I love driving home and realizing the trees are getting taller and thicker the closer I get!
Blessings!
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