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This is the house I grew up in

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Mudcat

Mudcat

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and my family lived in for 50+ years.

I remember when that maple was just about my height.



IMG-W4656622_1.jpg
 
Here's the backyard. That window bottom-right. That was my bedroom.

The back went through many changes over the years. When we moved in there it was a pine forest, but it wasn't long before they cleared out a ton of trees and nbuilt a catholic school back there. Fenced all the yards. So we were left with a yard full of pine trees. Then over the years the pine trees got thinned out one by one.

Looks like there's just six left now.

Nasty trees, pine. Not a fun tree for kids.

Looks pretty ratty back there now tbh.

w4656622_14.jpg
 
My old house is back up for sale. My dad told me that yesterday.

He sold it for 640K a couple years ago and now the asking price is 849K.

Which is not to say my dad blew it. The inside is now totally different. Unrecognizable. They must have done 150K worth of renovations.

Well I don't know. How much things cost and how much they'll likely end up getting ---> definitely not an area of expertise for me.

I imagine someone is being very clever money-wise.
 
The real estate listing calls it a bungalow but we never called it a bungalow. Not in 50 years. The next door neighbour was a bungalow.

The term that was always used was split level. Not bungalow.

Bungalow? We're not a bungalow - you're a bungalow!
 
My parents were pretty clever about the pine trees in our back yard. Those trees would shed pine cones all over the place which were useless little pieces of hard crap to have in your lawn.

So they made a big fun contest for the kids to see who could pick up the most. Three, two, one - go! We would totally go for it without realizing we were being used as unpaid child labor.
 
Got a knock on the door yesterday. Guy's parents owned the place between '52-'78 and he grew up there. He wanted to walk around the property. I told him to go screw and get the eff off my property or I'd call the goddman police. That's all i need - some nostalgic dope gets my permission to trespass and gets killed slipping and falling or gets blasted by a falling limb. You wanna walk down memory lane look at a photograph, you wanna learn about the outer bounds of private property rights in Westchester county come back and knock on my door again motherfucker.
 
There was a crabapple tree on the opposite side from the maple. That was a nasty tree.

You couldn't eat the fruit at all. It was these bitter mini-apples that would fall off and rot in the lawn. They weren't even big enough to really throw at each other. No fun at all.

The tree itself often attracted tent caterpillars. I found those very gross.

Nasty tree.
 
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