When you start to make something in the kitchen you have a dish in mind. Then you add everything together. In a small amount of time, the item is ready to be consumed-and admired.
For this memoir sojourn we commence with the end first. The completed dish, shall we say, before the cooking.
The house was everything. Muscular with softer shingle flaps slightly upturned from weathering and age. Eyelid dormers above perkier windows. Facing north, south, east, west. On a cProudly guarding its corner at Everit Street and East Rock Road, my grandmother's house at '239' held us close for decades. Without any me, we had to be protected by someone-or something. Our hose did exactythat. Hot when it was below freezing, cool in summer, sturdy when lightning struck everything around it. A best friend when my sister and I came home after school to do our homework and play by ourselves.
My granfather and grandmother moved into 239 Everit Street i 1910. They wer newlyweds.