The house was beautiful. It looked the same. The exterior paint was still a shade of white and the stone siding was still in place. The flowers were in bloom, lights were on inside and the garage door was open so I could see the door to the backyard. I asked J if I knocked on the door and asked to tour the house if the new owners would let me. He said go ask! I couldn't ask too weird. But I really wanted to.
I have such fun memories exploring the house and all my grandma's old artifacts. I was very little when my grandpa died so when I would visit my grandma I got to see my grandpa's face in photos which were displayed along a hallway in frames. The house was three stories. I remember all the stairs in her house were beautiful wood steps that squeaked with every step. The top floor was the attic which had been converted into a huge bedroom with a walk in closet and sky lights. In the closet were my grandmas old dresses and hats that she wore when she was a young lady. I am assuming they were 1930s to 1950s. The main floor was the "living" area, kitchen, bedrooms, bath, dining, etc. And the downstairs which was the basement. Scared me. Going down the squeaky stairs to a cold room would spook me. But all the fun artifacts were too good to ignore. The food pantry was down there. A huge bathroom. Another bedroom with a walk in closet, the piano, a bonus room with her Christmas tree that was up 365 days a year, card table that I would do puzzles on, a vintage radio, books, games and much more.
I told J if that house had been on the market I probably would of bought it. I would of loved to keep that house in the family. I think I assume it would still come with all my grandmas old furniture, her dress up clothes, photos and her Christmas tree.
