How many times did you move growing up? How did moving (or staying put) impact your childhood?
I moved once when I was seventeen. We moved off the farm into a house in a subdivision. The house was small on almost no land, but it was nicer than our old house. And there were no barns or fruit trees anymore, and no dog. I missed the dog and the views from the farm house out over the valleys below. I guess I got used to it pretty quickly though, I had much less privacy but the new house at least had two bathrooms. We didn't live there long and I was almost old enough to be leaving home so I don't suppose it mattered that much. We were still in the same community and I had all my same friends. I remember playing piano in that house and I remember that my date for the banquet (Mennonite private school had banquet instead of prom) worked out a little thing with my Mom where she served us some treats in the kitchen with candles and such. It was such a thoughtful thing for him to put together, I wish he had been my date but I don't remember why I ended up with a different guy instead of him. He and I are still friends and despite his time in prison he's one of the best men I ever dated.
We moved to another home in the same subdivision after a year or so and that one had a little more land. It was a new house, my parents bought one that was being built. Just in time to make a few minor changes, otherwise it was a completely ordinary house. I didn't live there that long before moving off to college. I do remember dating in that house though, and having parents come home and enter the front door when I'm making out on the sofa only a few feet away, whew! That was close! If they knew what we were doing they did have the good grace not to say anything. I remember plugging my keyboard into the stereo and cranking it up loud, only to have the guy a few houses down talk to my parents at church about the noise. =) So I needed to go back to the piano, which was fine by me I guess. That's a feature of living in town, one must be a little more quiet.
Then I was off to college and began my own series of moves that had nothing to do with where my family lived. In those early days I could still fit all my belongings into the Chevy Malibu that I drove, big ass car with a V8 engine and some serious get-up-and-go. Her name was Brigeet and she was a great old family car that I "inherited" along with an account number at a gas station so daddy paid my gas bill. Can you imagine? A teen with a gas guzzling v8? I must have cost them a fortune! Course gas was lots cheaper in those days.
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