Parkhouse

This used to be my home.

You can still see it there, can't you?

Out front is the pine tree that was planted too close to the house. I read somewhere that pine trees are a symbol of welcome in Chinese gardens, but I can't remember where. Dad dug it up one year because it was getting too big, and he moved it further from the house. He didn't move it far enough, but by the time anyone realized that, it was too big to move. Every year my mom would take me to the nursery to buy nasturtiums and pansies, which I would plant underneath that tree then neglect until they were dead.

That is on the left side of the house. On the right there is a garden, between the house and the garage. I used to plant things there too. I was very good at planting things, but I've always been bad at followthrough so everything died. Finally we just planted rhubarb, and it grew too well. I've never particularly liked rhubarb, but the side garden made sure we had plenty of it to eat.

Then up the stairs. Dad made the paper box on the railing to look like a little house, and my cat used to like sleeping in it. I'm sure I have a picture of her in it somewhere, but I can't find that right now. Every year except for grade 10 my mother posed my sister and I on these steps in brand new clothing for the obligatory first-day-of-school photo.

The front porch used to be completely open to the elements, but we built walls around it one weekend. It has had two windows and a door that only stays closed if you lock it ever since. We took a chip of paint into the store to have it colourmatched and after we had painted it the same yellow as the rest of the house, noone could tell that our renovations were new. It was heated, but it was never very warm and after about six years, it started to smell a little musty when the windows weren't open. It doesn't matter much, because that is where I keep all the shoes that I never wear.

The only problem with keeping things in the front hall is that I can never find anything when I need it. There is some sort of creature living in there that likes to devour everything. Consequently I had to buy a new touque and pair of mittens every year, without fail. On the floor is a rubber mat that my bunny used to use as a litterbox. Across the hall from is a croquet set that my dad bought on a whim one day and to the best of my knowledge, we have never used it. He always does that sort of thing.

The real front door is at the other end of this hall. It is covered with some sort of nondescript wooden veneer. In the middle there is a brass plated peephole that was rendered useless when we closed in the porch. In spite of the fact that the previous people who had lived there were paranoid and had put bars and chains on all the doors in the house, the front door only had one of those locks where you push and twist the door handle. We added a deadbolt that we later had to change after mom lost her purse in a restaurant one day.

The bottom of the door had a few vertical grooves in it where the cats used to scratch to let us know that they wanted in.

You can still see it, can't you?