Mine was my childhood home until maybe 6th grade. It was a big house (well, I'm sure it seemed bigger than it actually was at that age!), the exterior was grey with white trim, black shutters and a red door, built atop a large hill with a retaining wall on one side, so high that the neighboring garage (2 story commercial building) had a roofline level with our yard. The stairs from the sidewalk was a chore, even in today's day and age, I couldn't imagine having to deal with that daily. There were huge oak trees in the back yard, it was a very private space, and we had a pool, my siblings would jump off the tree branches into the pool, I was too small at the time. I loved playing in the leaves in the fall, our back yard would be completely covered once all the leaves dropped. We had a large bathroom, the area with the sink was sunken, and on the elevation was the commode and bathtub, the walls and decor were black and white themed with ornate wallpaper. The kitchen was big, I'd love to have a kitchen that size, and there was a winding staircase going to the second floor, and on the landing was a window...looking out the window, given that we were on a hill, was a long way down. So, I remember as a child I always had this irrational fear that I would fall down the stairs and out the window from that landing. LOL. I loved that house, so many fond memories. Today, that house is no longer there, probably a liability due to it's location high up on a hill (all neighboring houses were at a lower grade) coupled with the maintenance that came with the retaining wall, but I just adore houses with similar color themes.

but it seems like the memory is often in much better condition than the toys actually were. This is so true! I nearly "lost" a wonderful memory because of this. When I was a little girl, I helped with a skit as an ending to a performance by a barbershop quarter of high school boys (my dad as a drama coach, and helped them with it--I was the "love interest" at the end of "What Ain't We Got, We Ain't Got Dames"--not something you'd make jokes about now, though. I was a little bit in love with all of them, but especially curt. (I was, oh, 6.) After the contest was over, the boys got together and bought me a purple bunny with yellow satin lining in his ears, and Curt (swoon!) brought it for me. I LOVED that bunny. Loved it. Slept with it, carried it everywhere. Kept it around as I got older. At some point he ended up in a box in the attic. And when I was a young adult, out on my own, my mom & dad sent me all my stuff from the attic, including my stuffed animals. They were really in a sorry state--misshapen, coarse, and dirty. Their present-day reality pretty much overwrote my wonderful memories of them from when they were lovely (or, loved and their misshapenness completely invisible because of it). I have a few things I treasure: -the license plate w/ my unusual first name that my grandparents had custom-made for me -the cloth doll that "my little old lady down the block" gave to me, and I used to create a room design that won a red ribbon at the Iowa State Fair. -the "Night Before Christmas" book that I was given as a kid, and read from every Christmas -the printed velvet vest that my mom made for me (part of a set, but I accidentally ruined the skirt); I could wear it up until relatively recently.

Thanks, ladies! My best, best friend lived across the street, and we both had posters of him, had pretend fights over him, etc. :D Well, her dad heard he was going to be at some public event in Dallas, and told us he'd drive us to it in his brand new Good Times van. You should have heard us squealing! Neither of us could sleep for weeks. We got there, and the line .... LONG. We waited hours -- Scott was sitting at an autograph desk on a stage. We each got a picture and autograph. But ... are you ready? I KISSED HIS CHEEK! And she was pouting that he was looking at me in my pic, but at the camera in hers. :D Anyway, I'll never forget it! And I'd like to point out my green corduroy vest, with pants that matched. The latest in 10 yr old fashion, circa 1979.

umm..Russian (dereriorating. lol), Ukrainian(would need to immerse for real fluency, hadn't been there for years..reading as native though), English, Hebrew...was making decent progress in French, but now would have to work on it hard to get to even the same level I was..can read easy literature..trying to pick up on Spanish, watching basic telenovelas helps a lot..:) they repeat there same things many times. They pronounce much more clearly(to me) too..so I put on subtitles and it can be fun. Actually I watch everything with subtitles. I read fast so I like to compare..:) even when I understand perfectly well. My dream would be mastering French..learning Spanish, Italian. Yiddish, Polish. Swedish would be cool. I'll never get to that of course, but I like languages. Some languages are very hard though. Very different from everything I heard. Say I was in Uzbekistan when a girl-usually with every new language I try to pick up on some words, but there was so different I really struggled, Not that I had to-it was a ten day visit, very fun one. (I'm liking everybody's posts-very interesting)