Our new house was very different from our old house, aside from the setting of course.By comparison,it was squat and low to the ground,more rectangular than square.It had only one floor,not counting the cellar and the attic.Because it's ceiling was low it did not have an open,windy feeling like the house in Redmondville.Being new it was likely better insulated as well,so it seemed warmer.It's windows were higher from the floor than our old house,where I could look out easily.In the living room,just to the right of the front entrance,there was a large picture window of double paned glass that I could peer out by climbing up onto the back of the couch.But the kitchen windows,and the ones in the bedrooms were far to high for me to reach.The view out that window was very different from the view from our old house.Here,the street-not a road,but a street-was much closer to the house.There were no trees on the other side,and,because our street was paved and finished,there were no ditches.The other side of the street had houses,just like our side,and I could watch the people come and go from those houses.The cars out front seemed to move so much slower than the ones on the road in front of our house in Redmondville.
Dogs often ran about in the neighborhood and once or twice I saw one overturn our trash can at the end of the driveway.That happened quite frequently when we first moved to Moncton.I would watch the dogs come and go,but I wasn't certain I liked dogs,or if they were things I should be afraid of.Mostly they were so much bigger than me,and they could be noisy too.They were not anything like that docile cow that we used to have.Yet they were not quite like the pigs that used to root in our garden either.Mostly,at that time,I just didn't know how to take dogs,since we didn't have one,and neither did any of our nearby neighbors.But I never tired of watching them.
I recall our new kitchen really clearly.It had white walls above the table where we ate.The cabinets were of wood and highly varnished.The floor was of brown and white tiles,in a regularly alternating pattern.One of those tiles was discolored and loose.It was right in front of the refrigerator,four tiles up from the refrigerator door and in the third row of tiles as you entered the kitchen from the hallway.Eventually a man came to fix that tile,but that seemed a long time after we arrived and my parents wondered if he would ever come.When he did,he had a hand held torch,which I was afraid of because it made both noise and fire.The man touched the torch to the floor and I feared he would burn our house down.It also made a bad smell.But in a short time he had pulled up the discolored tile and replaced it with a new one.
Once my mother had arranged her things in the cupboard,the arrangement never changed.Under the sink she kept things like dish soap and ajax and a bunch of other cleaning products.I don't remember ever seeing a lock on those cabinet doors.Beside those doors,to the right,she kept boxes of breakfast cereal and bags of sugar and flour.The two staples inside that cupboard were cornflakes,with a big rooster on the box,and some type of puffed wheat or rice in a bag.Usually there were several other boxes of cereal inside there as well and both shelves were quite full.There was always at least one bag of Robin Hood Flour in a colorful yellow bag,and a device into which my mother would put flour before turning a handle and sifting it into a bowl.In the cabinet above the counter,on that side,she kept cups and glasses,plates and saucers.Forks,spoons,knives and other utensils were kept in a drawer just to the left of the sink.The pots and pans,so many of them,were kept in a cupboard to the left of the sink and near the floor.I discovered that I could crawl in that cupboard and hide,though in doing so I made so much noise that everyone must have known where I was.Above that cupboard,above the counter,my mother kept baking supplies:butter,vanilla,a small bowl of sugar,instant coffee,tea bags,peanut butter,boxes of cake mix,a can of pepper and a box of salt,dried mustard,as well as mustard in a bottle,ans a hundred other things.There were cabinets above the stove and refrigerator as well,and up there they kept boxes of family photos on slides,along with many other things.My parents would bring the photos down from time to time and with a projector,show them on a white sheet that they pinned up to the wall.There were other things on those high shelves as well,but for the most part they remained a mystery.
Down the hallway,to the right as you left the kitchen,were the remaining rooms of the house.Three bedrooms and a bathroom.The bathroom was clean and very ordinary,with white walls,a toilet,sink and a tub.In my mind,the bedrooms were blue,pink and green,but that may have been later,after we had been there for several years.Each room was a different size.Two bedrooms faced the front of the house,while the other,and the bathroom faced the back yard.
There was a set of stairs just beside the back door that led to the basement.The basement was very plain and empty at first,until our living there for a while filled it up with various things.The floors were unpainted concrete and,for as far back as I can remember,water would accumulate on the basement floor.There was another thing in the basement which I did not like too.It was round and green and almost the size of my father.It made strange sounds,and,if you opened a little door in the front of it,you could see fire inside of it.I never wanted to go near it.The furnace.
My mother and father kept things under the basement stairs.As time went on,the basement became more and more cluttered.From my very earliest memory of that house,there was always a tire or too under the stairs.Tires were heavy and had an odor I was not sure I liked,but ,with some difficulty,I could drag one out and roll it from one end of the basement to the other,though it was nearly as large as I was.
We had a cat too,and she liked to stay under the basement steps.She was white and had a blue and a green eye.She slept in a box under the steps,where we would not chase her.
Above the main hallway,just outside the bedrooms,there was a hatch leading up to the attic.The attic was mysterious.Not only could I not reach the hatch,but I had never been in the attic.Every so often,one of my parents would get a ladder and go up there looking for something,but I was never allowed to go up with them.For many years,it remained the one room in the house in which I'd never been.
Dogs often ran about in the neighborhood and once or twice I saw one overturn our trash can at the end of the driveway.That happened quite frequently when we first moved to Moncton.I would watch the dogs come and go,but I wasn't certain I liked dogs,or if they were things I should be afraid of.Mostly they were so much bigger than me,and they could be noisy too.They were not anything like that docile cow that we used to have.Yet they were not quite like the pigs that used to root in our garden either.Mostly,at that time,I just didn't know how to take dogs,since we didn't have one,and neither did any of our nearby neighbors.But I never tired of watching them.
I recall our new kitchen really clearly.It had white walls above the table where we ate.The cabinets were of wood and highly varnished.The floor was of brown and white tiles,in a regularly alternating pattern.One of those tiles was discolored and loose.It was right in front of the refrigerator,four tiles up from the refrigerator door and in the third row of tiles as you entered the kitchen from the hallway.Eventually a man came to fix that tile,but that seemed a long time after we arrived and my parents wondered if he would ever come.When he did,he had a hand held torch,which I was afraid of because it made both noise and fire.The man touched the torch to the floor and I feared he would burn our house down.It also made a bad smell.But in a short time he had pulled up the discolored tile and replaced it with a new one.
Once my mother had arranged her things in the cupboard,the arrangement never changed.Under the sink she kept things like dish soap and ajax and a bunch of other cleaning products.I don't remember ever seeing a lock on those cabinet doors.Beside those doors,to the right,she kept boxes of breakfast cereal and bags of sugar and flour.The two staples inside that cupboard were cornflakes,with a big rooster on the box,and some type of puffed wheat or rice in a bag.Usually there were several other boxes of cereal inside there as well and both shelves were quite full.There was always at least one bag of Robin Hood Flour in a colorful yellow bag,and a device into which my mother would put flour before turning a handle and sifting it into a bowl.In the cabinet above the counter,on that side,she kept cups and glasses,plates and saucers.Forks,spoons,knives and other utensils were kept in a drawer just to the left of the sink.The pots and pans,so many of them,were kept in a cupboard to the left of the sink and near the floor.I discovered that I could crawl in that cupboard and hide,though in doing so I made so much noise that everyone must have known where I was.Above that cupboard,above the counter,my mother kept baking supplies:butter,vanilla,a small bowl of sugar,instant coffee,tea bags,peanut butter,boxes of cake mix,a can of pepper and a box of salt,dried mustard,as well as mustard in a bottle,ans a hundred other things.There were cabinets above the stove and refrigerator as well,and up there they kept boxes of family photos on slides,along with many other things.My parents would bring the photos down from time to time and with a projector,show them on a white sheet that they pinned up to the wall.There were other things on those high shelves as well,but for the most part they remained a mystery.
Down the hallway,to the right as you left the kitchen,were the remaining rooms of the house.Three bedrooms and a bathroom.The bathroom was clean and very ordinary,with white walls,a toilet,sink and a tub.In my mind,the bedrooms were blue,pink and green,but that may have been later,after we had been there for several years.Each room was a different size.Two bedrooms faced the front of the house,while the other,and the bathroom faced the back yard.
There was a set of stairs just beside the back door that led to the basement.The basement was very plain and empty at first,until our living there for a while filled it up with various things.The floors were unpainted concrete and,for as far back as I can remember,water would accumulate on the basement floor.There was another thing in the basement which I did not like too.It was round and green and almost the size of my father.It made strange sounds,and,if you opened a little door in the front of it,you could see fire inside of it.I never wanted to go near it.The furnace.
My mother and father kept things under the basement stairs.As time went on,the basement became more and more cluttered.From my very earliest memory of that house,there was always a tire or too under the stairs.Tires were heavy and had an odor I was not sure I liked,but ,with some difficulty,I could drag one out and roll it from one end of the basement to the other,though it was nearly as large as I was.
We had a cat too,and she liked to stay under the basement steps.She was white and had a blue and a green eye.She slept in a box under the steps,where we would not chase her.
Above the main hallway,just outside the bedrooms,there was a hatch leading up to the attic.The attic was mysterious.Not only could I not reach the hatch,but I had never been in the attic.Every so often,one of my parents would get a ladder and go up there looking for something,but I was never allowed to go up with them.For many years,it remained the one room in the house in which I'd never been.
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