Wednesday, July 19, 2006

Windsor, Connecticut

continuing our Where in the World is Octopus Grigori series . . . .

Our house in Windsor was fine, I wasn't sure why we had to leave. It was close to my Montessori school, my best friend in the world, Nancy, a girl about five years older than me, lived next door, we had a pool, and a creek down in the backyard, at the bottom of the sloping, seemingly endless lawn. My memories did not go any further back than this house, which we had moved to when I was about a year and half.

I remembered my brother being born soon after we had moved in, tents being put up in the backyard for my father's friend's wedding -- the ceremony was in front of our fireplace. My brother and I shared a room, with our beds forming a V against the walls. We had learned to swim in our pool. I remembered closing my eyes and still seeing the red of the blood in my eyelids from the sun coming through our living room window. We had a dogwood tree in the back of the house that flowered in the summer, and again in the winter, when it was iced over, sparkling in the flat January sunlight. I was rolling down the hill in the backyard and something went into my eye. I had to go to the eye doctor, who made me sit in a chair in a dark room while he shined a flat blue plane of light across my eye from behind a large scope.

I remembered coloring a balloon and noticing the weird square they draw on round things like balloons to show that they're round and wondering if it was supposed to be a reflection of a window. Sometimes I got Chef Boyardee ravioli, which I loved.

My father and his friends played ping-pong in our basement, with the concrete floor. We ate berries off the bushes by the creek. Nancy showed me which berries weren't too sour. There was a tree in spring we climbed into and found a nest with bright blue robins' eggs. Our friends came over and we ran around the yard in Underoos with garbage bags for capes and soda six-pack rings as masks.

We got Batman and Robin walkie-talkies for Eid. My brother and I talked to each other through the walls of the house until my mom made us go to bed. Nancy had a small cardboard theater, in which she could put on a finger puppets show.

I remember going to look for new houses with my mom. I remember her asking, in each town, about the schools. I liked the houses that had cool posters -- I remember wanting to move into the house that had a poster of a tiger on the ceiling above the stairs. We got to one last house, a white house, surrounded by trees, on a hill. There was a jungle gym in the back, and the kitchen had saloon doors. My mom asked me what I thought. There was no pool, but she said she would get us a small pool to make up for it. I said okay.


Anonymous said...

Let's hear more about Nancy and her identification of ripe berries!


Anonymous said...

Ripe or sour, it's a nice piece.

Octopus Grigori said...

Thanks, c-Man. It's a little sickly sweet, I know, but heck, I'm getting old.

hh said...

YAY underoos party!