Last Saturday, Jeff and I were in Santa Ana and visited my old neighborhood. I hadn't been there in ten years. I lived across from this street corner -
2201 N. Olive Lane.
2201 N. Olive Lane.
Here's my house - where I used to climb the olive tree in front, ride my bike on the driveway, I shut the garage door on our car roof, our big plastic Santa Claus was lit up on the front porch, and I'd look out the living room window and wait for my dad to come home.
So many great memories...
I loved my childhood...
So many great memories...
I loved my childhood...
Then we went by Jeff's darling house in Costa Mesa. He moved from here when he was seven. He loved playing kickball in the front yard for family night, walking to school with his brothers and sisters, and catching frogs in the ditch at the end of the street.
Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose. The Wonder Years...
Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose. The Wonder Years...
3 comments:
What a nice, sweet tribute to your childhood homes! A post you'll treasure forever!
What a fun little trip down memory lane for you two! Childhood memories are great. (and I am glad we have garage door sensors now!) :)
That is so much fun. And I love your quote - our memories really are what make us who we are. I guess that is why journaling is so important :) or blogging :)
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