As promised, a rendering of the 2nd floor of the house built by my maternal grandparents, memories sparked by Bartok's birthday. Click, yo, to enlarge. There are at least two people I felt an obligation to follow through at least with this floor. This is obviously not to scale, so obvious my incompetence at architectural drawing. I could do the basement easily enough but I've found the 3rd floor completely impossible, not only the physical layout of the floor but the secret universes the maze of attics lead to are utterly unmappable.
Here are the keys:
- A - Chair except at Giftmas; Giftmas tree goes there.
- B - Corner of house wrecked when car flew of Fellsburg Road into side of house.
- C - Broken Philco record player/radio console/cabinet - my favorite toy.
- D - Small china cabinet.
- Star - Where my grandfather, crippled by arthritis in his knees, sat staring out the window hour after hour day after day after day.
- E - Philmore refrigerator.
- F - Double-sink looking out window at vegetable garden
- G - White radio always tuned to KDKA.
- H - Bag of candy, never eaten, pink, chalky mint, think fat Necco Wafers.
- I - Bottles of Lemon Blend.
- J - Left side of hoosier had large, built-in, flour sifter.
- K - Green and white sliding davenport. Summers I would sit on davenport with my grandfather and listen to Pirates games while he rolled and smoked cigarettes out of a red Prince Albert can.
- L - Bathroom closet where a box of Chinese Checkers and a game of Racko were kept.
- M - Kitchen stove/oven. Pilot light needed lighting each time. Oven door swung left/right, not up/down.
- N - Dresser where my grandmother kept the Time Magazines and books on the 1956 Hungarian Revolution - the start of all this.
- O - Creepy wooden mothbally wardrobe.
- P - Secretary.
- Q - Clock on piano that was broke at 1:35 forever, now on my bookshelf in my bedroom.
- R - Bathtub - no shower, no hot water - all hot water in house had to be heated on stove.
- S - End table piled with back issue of Readers Digest.
- T - Notice, no TV.
The three of you who know this place send me additional 2nd floor notations if you'd like and I will add them. As for the 3rd floor, I'm still trying to get my head around its vast and tiny distances and the mysteries of the attics' labyrinth and where it leads to, I doubt I'll ever be able to ink it down.
UPDATE! I just realized Spock was born was born 83 years ago today.
I can't tell you how it pleases me that the thought of posting Fleabus as a stand alone is too slutty even for me.