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Childhood home...

Butters Shikkon

Patron Saint of Queers
I've been feeling nostalgic of late despite being a sentimental person in general, but this thought has crossed my mind for a couple of weeks: the places we grew up often shape who we are I think. For better or for worse, they're a part of a person forever. I know some people who just couldn't wait to escape the surroundings they grew up in, while others have remained or moved away but still long for those times when they were a tot in a universe too vast to understand.

So I'm curious, FAF, what were your childhood homes like: a city, a mountain, an island, etc. I think we should include time periods too as that's part of the setting and hey, if you had multiple homes (I see you army brats out there) feel free to share them too.

Well, since I'm the one asking, it's only fair I tell about mine first.

I grew up in the very late 80's and all of the 90's. I lived in an such a small southern town in the US that it barely qualified as such. It was the strangest place due to the fact that the buildings and houses all seemed lost in the 1950's. We had mill houses and a "dying" church and everything. After I had moved away, I found out that the fact that everyone had gardens and giant vegetable fields made it farm country. One of my neighbors had several animals but nothing too extreme. Just dogs, cats, geese, and goats. I remember to this day being able to witness goat births, which I have to say was magical if only because they are just slips of slime until they hit the ground and boom! Baby goat.

Being so close to the wilderness fostered a love of nature in me. There were always trees to climb and bikes to ride and forests to explore, I think that's what really cemented my love of storytelling. So many adventures to be had between my brother and I, from playing witches near our grandparents' oil drum/trash can to pretending their tractor was a flying machine: I often wonder how what I'd venture to be if I had grown somewhere else.

I would eventually move to a more time appropriate city in my preteens, but I still dream of the sapphire night sky, and the fireflies caught in my early childhood?

How do you feel about the places you grew up? Did they have a significant influence on your interests or personality?
 
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Hateful Bitch

Hang up your coat
I was born in a house built into the side of a tall cliff that makes the edge of the world. My family house was large, as with every new member of the family, another room was built onto the house. Of all the edge dwellers, my family house is the largest, proof of our ancient lineage. Long ago it was said that we edge dwellers lived in the caves, and that we are in fact descendants of cavelings that ventured deepest into the earth, so far in fact that they reached the edge of the world it self. On that last point at least, we could be sure; the sun rose above us, and set below us. We made sure only to have ceiling windows, as the heat from the sun on what land dwellers would consider the horizon, is unhindered and therefore quite a lot stronger (I never could learn myself the light and heat sciences in order to understand this though). In our winter, we would retreat into the caves to escape the cold, as the sun would not show for great lengths of time.

My father always dreamed of getting a desk job in some office block one day though, so eventually we moved to the surface. I still maintain my rat-like appearance, tapping away at my computer in a darkened room with my long, black fingernails.
 
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M. LeRenard

Is not French
It's funny, but the place I'm the most nostalgic about isn't the one I lived in the longest or did the most growing up in, but rather a place I spent only a few of my youngest years in, which is a little bitty town called Walker Lake, Nevada. In all honesty, the place is a complete shithole, and it's gotten much worse since my family moved out so long ago, but I still have some weird and deep attachment to the desert out there. There was hardly anything at all around there; in town the only business was this place called the Buffalo Mart, which sold pop and snack foods and rented out movies and video games (once upon a time; it doesn't do that anymore... now it mostly just sells Jesus merchandise and ice), and the closest "big" town was Hawthorne, which was a military/mining town surrounded by old bunkers. I remember there was a park there with an old decommissioned army tank I used to crawl around on, and there was a dry lake bed nearby where we'd ride around on a motorcycle. And of course there was Walker Lake itself, which at the time always had people swimming in it and boating on it and fishing in it (though you'd never want to eat the fish that came out of that lake). The mountains were right there, too, so you could go up into them and drive around on hazardous back-country dirt-roads and go visit some old ghost towns like Bodie or Aurora.
I think I have such fond memories of that place because I lived there at a young enough age that everything was new and exciting. It's where I first went to school, where I played my first Nintendo game, where I had my first crush (as much of a crush as you can really have in kindergarten; it was this Indian or maybe Mexican girl named Sara, who I only knew really briefly, but who I thought was very pretty. I actually still have a fondness for the name Sara, and I attribute that mostly to her), and so on. We moved to New Mexico after that, but barely stayed there two years before leaving and going to Nebraska, where I lived most of my life. Maybe someday I'll get nostalgic about Nebraska, but for now it just gives me a bitter taste in my mouth. I certainly have some good memories there, but only about the people I came to be really close friends with. Not the place itself, or anyone else there. You know how Stephen King is fond of writing stories about the dark and evil things that go on behind the scenes in small-town Maine? Let's just put it this way; I can totally see where he's coming from.
In Nevada everyone was too daft to be truly evil, though. I argue with myself, but I almost think I could see myself moving back out that way some day. For now, though, I rather like Ohio.
 

Hinalle K.

Banned
Banned
Nothing but bad memories come from that place...
I don't miss that place at all. I'd give anything to get out of this current one as well.
 

BRN

WTB Forum Mod Powers
Suburban residential, as ever.

Nothing to see here. :i I'd say it was the people I met, rather than the places I was, that turned me into me.
 

Butters Shikkon

Patron Saint of Queers
Snip, Snip here...

I really should read more Lovecraft, XD

Snip, Snip there.

I must agree with the part about everything looking new and exciting when you're really small. When you grow up and look back, half the magic is gone. It sounds like that place could be quite the party place for a desert with the lake and all. (We also had a body of water where one could never eat the fish that came out of it. I have a wierd love for decay though, so I guess that's why it seems inspiring to me ^^; Although, the town in my OP still hasn't changed. It's like Derry from King's It. It's core has never really changed. It's like a monument frozen in time. o_O
 

M. LeRenard

Is not French
I must agree with the part about everything looking new and exciting when you're really small. When you grow up and look back, half the magic is gone. It sounds like that place could be quite the party place for a desert with the lake and all. (We also had a body of water where one could never eat the fish that came out of it. I have a wierd love for decay though, so I guess that's why it seems inspiring to me ^^; Although, the town in my OP still hasn't changed.
No... it's not a good party place. I actually went back there on a road trip fairly recently, and it's more or less defunct. The lake is under caretaker status, and if you go down by the shore you'll see more dragonflies and spiders than you ever thought could exist in one place. The picnic tables were literally roped off by spider webs; there must have been hundreds of them just around one table. Lake's basically dead, too; very salty now, drying up incredibly fast, and I doubt there are fish living in it anymore. Someone at some point tried building "beachfront property" to cater to rich assholes from Reno, but the beach is now about half a mile down from where they started construction, and no one must have bought because none of those buildings are finished. Someone just flattened out the land a bit and through some gravel here and there, then walked away. It's almost mystical, how far down it's come.
It's like Derry from King's It. It's core has never really changed. It's like a monument frozen in time. o_O
Well, as long as the core isn't The Deadlights and luring children to their doom, I guess that's okay. ;-)
 

Dreaming

Member
I dunno how much my early childhood home contributed to who I am, not a lot I would expect. I would say that my current residence has had the largest influence in my life. I've moved twice, the first house was a post-WW1 semi-detached, built in the carcass of an old mining village (a lot of the mining and freight sheds still existed back then, it's fair to say they were derelict). I lived there from 1992 to 1997, the family moved down the road to a new-built detached house. We didn't stay at that place for very long, we had the neighbors from hell who turned into a bunch of bitches, basically starting a street war between all the residents so we moved from that property to our current residence in 2002.
 

Butters Shikkon

Patron Saint of Queers
I wasn't copying! That was all taken out of my own ass, thank you very much!

But reallym I haven't even read any Lovecraft, just to have a serious reply.

I know ;) I've only read like a couple works myself. But that whole setup was just his style, mysterious race living underground, ties to some ancient (often mindfuck material) ancestors. I was quite impressed, you must dabble in the written word.

Plus, all childhoods are welcome, even rat-people's.
 

Caedman

Member
You know what's odd, I am currently sitting in a hotel room in Traverse City after visiting my childhood home. It's nothing more than a rattletrap trailer, and when I first saw it, memories come flooding back. I didn't have many happy memories there, but the few I do remember were the long walks in the woods that sat behind the trailer park in which I lived. There were twin lakes that I spent many a summer fishing in, swimming in (and picking off leeches from) and generally doing boyhood things. Now, there are condominiums, retail shops and business developments where the beautiful woods used to stand. Yet the trailer still stands, nearly 35 years later. Still decrepit, still standing. This, more than anything, breaks my heart. I think to myself, at least I have those memories.
 

Butters Shikkon

Patron Saint of Queers
It's how we snip the day away in the merry ole land of OZ...

That is almost a perfect metaphor for the relationship between childhood and adulthood. A lot of things come and go, but you can't somewhere (deep down) that innocence remains. ^^
 
You know what's odd, I am currently sitting in a hotel room in Traverse City after visiting my childhood home. It's nothing more than a rattletrap trailer, and when I first saw it, memories come flooding back. I didn't have many happy memories there, but the few I do remember were the long walks in the woods that sat behind the trailer park in which I lived. There were twin lakes that I spent many a summer fishing in, swimming in (and picking off leeches from) and generally doing boyhood things. Now, there are condominiums, retail shops and business developments where the beautiful woods used to stand. Yet the trailer still stands, nearly 35 years later. Still decrepit, still standing. This, more than anything, breaks my heart. I think to myself, at least I have those memories.

Can you find the trailer on google maps? I'm too curious.
 

Ikrit

I'm fired up!
i grew up in the getto

and was the only white kid on the street

ah... those where the days...
 

Vaelarsa

resident spaceship
I grew up in a town in West Virginia. My parents still own and live in the house.
It's situated on the slope of the top of a hill, with a cliff along one side. The back yard is decent sized, and surrounded by trees. I would always like to go up there and sit near the edge of the cliff and look down at the park / fairgrounds, which was down the cliff, but across the a street and a creek. It was really close by, in any case, and I had a perfect view of it. I would sit there under the oak trees and just relax or write or draw, and listen to the breeze.

The town itself is decent. It's small and relatively poor, but people are generally friendly, and there's not a whole lot of crime to speak of.
It's surrounded on all sides with hills and forests, but that's kind of standard in WV.

I really like it. I'd love to move back, if I had the money and transportation.


Right now, I'm in Colorado.
It's pretty in some parts, but I'm really not a big city kind of person. Too much noise and confrontation and batshit insane people. I'd much rather live someone calm and quiet and close to nature, like I used to.
 

BrimstoneLass

New Member
The first house of mine that I remember was actually my Grandpa's house, where my family lived for a while. It's in the suburbs, but there's a nice slope to his back yard and these two huge trees that were really fun to climb. My sister and I would catch snakes in the garden, and when they were ripe we'd eat all of his strawberries and raspberries.

Later we moved into this teensy little white house (also in the suburbs) and one of the best things about it was our neighbor's cheery tree- it hung into our yard so we'd eat those, too. That was also where I first saw a raccoon! She had a whole troupe of babies and they were digging around in our trashcan one night, and when I saw them she hissed at me. Freaked me out, lol.

All the fruit-stealing probably has something to do with why I like gardening so much, now that I think about it.
 

Ouiji

New Member
My childhood home was in a somewhat rural setting surrounded by heavy woodland. Maple syrup tapped straight from the trees, cicada chirping at night, and a short drive to Lake Erie. My favorite time of year was autumn because of all the leaves changing color and falling; winter was also fun because of the nature walks and skiing through the trees. I remember picking wintergreen mint leaves during these outings. I would go further, but talking about this is making me feel too nostalgic ><.
 

yubhom

New Member
I still live in my childhood home. I live in an area that is a few suburban neighborhoods bridged by narrow roads and corn fields. Those fields were my playground as a little kid. I'd screw with the farmers as a habit, along with the few friends I had at the time. I collected spark plugs for fun. And usually they were not mine to collect, if you know what I mean. My house was of medium size, with three small bedrooms. Having five people in the house made it cramped, because my parents shared a room, and my brother and I shared a room. My sister and brother both made throwing tantrums to get what they wanted a regula occurrence. Shock is why my sister had the mediumsized bedroom. So I shared a room with a little demon for the longest time, I then moved to the basement. My siblings taught me patience. In my neighborhood, as a non adult, you picked one of two gangs (used loosely) and were loyal to them, or you were a target for abuse. I was a target, because I hated the ringleaders of both gangs. This is when I learned to fight, and when to walk away. The only thing that my parents taught me was that having muddy shoes was a hanging offense. So for me, my friends and the place I lived affected who I am more than my parents.
 

Judge Spear

Well-Known Member
Pardon, but what exactly is the point of the thread? Are we supposed to share ours or were you just sharing your experiences of days past?

EDIT: oops nevermind.
I thought the post above me was the OP for some reason.
 

Nico

New Member
Mine is a duplicate post of Ouija, A rural community surrounded by farmland and woods. I spent a lot of time roaming those fields and woods in the late 70's and early 80's. It was about a 10 minute drive from Lake Erie. My parents still live in the house.
 

yubhom

New Member
Pardon, but what exactly is the point of the thread? Are we supposed to share ours or were you just sharing your experiences of days past?

EDIT: oops nevermind.
I thought the post above me was the OP for some reason.

I am never OP. but I am always OP. OP is always wrong, so I cant be OP, but OP always wins, so i AM OP. savvy?
 

Traven V

Luna-tic.
Oh me too I can be very sentimental, it's my bleeding heart side don't cha know. Several homes actually but when I was younger I lived with my parents in a house on the hill it was a yellow house. We had great neighbors and a couple of elderly ladies who lived on the block one was crazy, the other very kind. The crazy lady a few times walked around the block naked (I think see had Alzheimers) was a strange site, lol. The kind one we would visit and she would give us pickled sweet pickles all the time, she was so sweet, I see now it must of meant the world to see us. My parents had some friends on the block and we would have bar-b-ques a lot and they would drink but it was fun. I can remember many fourth of July's there, some Christmas's my family getting together it was always an event with family coming to visit and opening up many presents. My sister and I where best friends (still are) we would play with Barbies and other girly things (My sister made me gay, jk XD). Had some friends to the house beside us we would go skating with them sometimes, it was fun. After that life just kinda went to hell a bit but we move on.
 

Bipolar Bear

Phallus Fellater
Ah... This takes me back. I grew in a very rundown, old house that wouldn't pass for inspection if you painted it gold. The side gate was battered down, the roof was leaky, the backyard smelled like 2-week-old arse, we had 2 Wasp nests and the was plenty of rusty old nails to snag yourself on. But hey, I did have a lot of fond memories in that place. It housed my longest living memory, which was my 2nd Birthday. I only remember 2 seconds of it, but that house is the reason I still remember that moment.

But that doesn't change the fact that the house sucked major arse.
 

Butters Shikkon

Patron Saint of Queers

That's reminds me of my early childhood as well (the visiting old neighbor lady part). Both sets of my grandparents were not too far from my first hometown, and my maternal ones lived deep in a once wilder little dead end road. The lady that was their landlord was always wanting to see us and would let us use her classy swing anytime. As time went by she decayed mentally and later died. A few years ago my grandparents and my immediate family had a sort of falling out, but I cherish to this day the memory of my Grandma saying in her nasally, nagging voice "Billy, take those young'uns to see Ms. Harris!" or my gentle grandfather saying in his slow, not quite deep voice: "Boys, let's go swing..." The swing was close the end of her beautiful property and although woods grew behind it, it was as if nature itself had only picked the tallest ones with the most shady leaves for our pleasure.

I think back on those memories now, and am grateful for my upbringing.
 

Viridis

Avatar by Soryane
Here we go. It'll probably not follow any sort of organizational scheme.

I grew up on a small farm about 15 miles outside of a town of about 300 people. Our closest neighbor was a mile away, although we were really only social with our next closest neighbor, who was two miles away. When I was really young, we had cows, chickens, pigs, cats, dogs, rabbits, and even a donkey at one point. It was down in a canyon, so we had to put our TV antenna about half a mile away up one of the hills, and if you ever wanted to watch something else, you'd have to hike up there and redirect the antenna (it was a dish type, which is very directional). There's probably about 40 old chicken houses scattered around the hills, but they're about the size of sheds, so they were perfect to go exploring in. The man who lived there before us loved ponderosa pine trees, so we have a small forest of them, each over 30 feet tall. Everywhere surrounding our home was a dessert, making it a small oasis. We didn't really have a constant water supply, just a series of cisterns up the hills that we'd use to provide water for the house and trees, and you could run out of water if you weren't careful. If you were in the middle of taking a shower while no one else was home and the cistern when dry, you'd have to run outside and turn on the pump to get water flowing again. My sisters and I used to have rooms down in the basement (or "dungeon" as we now call it), but we added on to the house when I was about 7 or 8 years old. I learned a lot about fixin' things from my dad; between building the house and taking care of the rental properties we owned, I have enough experience to repair just about anything that could go wrong in your house. As I got older, most of my time was spent outdoors; exploring canyons and hunting rabbits. During the school year, we'd usually have to stay around after classes got out for a few hours, because my parents were both teachers, as well as occasionally coaches for the school's sports teams. I never wanted to play sports in high school or middle school, but I was told that I was obligated to; because I was a tall and strong guy. Because we were such a small community, anything taboo (like furries ^.^) were totally and utterly shunned. It wasn't until I got to college before I could really embrace the concept of being a furry, and still I keep it hidden away from everyone.

I could keep going on and on for hours, but I think that's enough nostalgia for one night.
 
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