A Place I Loved
Posted on: 26-Jul-10 07:00
My cousin Dorothy recently sent me a photo of a pastel painting by our cousin Annie Heller. It shows the back of what was once our family cottage—Thorpe View—in Walberswick, Suffolk, UK.
The painting made Dorothy cry. The painting made me cry. It is so lyrical and emotional in its rendition of a beloved dwelling. The pigs lived right next door over the stone wall. On rainy days, the smell of pig manure would permeate the air. We got used to it. Thought of it as part of the aromatic atmosphere. Okay, maybe we lit out on our bicycles on “those” days, farther away from the pigs, to catch tadpoles in the marshes. We took in a different earthy smell, one with squishy grass—lots of it—and if the sun chose to come out, that grass would light up, a bright Kelly green.
At Thorpe View, when the weather called for it, which it often did, there would be a constant coal fire burning in the fireplace. When you looked out the living room windows, you could see who was coming and going in the village, there being only one main street. I liked to be in that room and hear the horses clop by, and glance out to see who was on top.
At Thorpe View there was a long rectangular wooden table in the living room where we ate meals and played games. It had all sorts of little nicks and notches in it, which gave it character. I liked to feel the grooves with the tips of my fingers, imagining how they got there.
When you went out the door of the cottage, you would find yourself exactly in the place my cousin Annie painted.
Here is her pastel painting of Thorpe View:
The painting made Dorothy cry. The painting made me cry. It is so lyrical and emotional in its rendition of a beloved dwelling. The pigs lived right next door over the stone wall. On rainy days, the smell of pig manure would permeate the air. We got used to it. Thought of it as part of the aromatic atmosphere. Okay, maybe we lit out on our bicycles on “those” days, farther away from the pigs, to catch tadpoles in the marshes. We took in a different earthy smell, one with squishy grass—lots of it—and if the sun chose to come out, that grass would light up, a bright Kelly green.
At Thorpe View, when the weather called for it, which it often did, there would be a constant coal fire burning in the fireplace. When you looked out the living room windows, you could see who was coming and going in the village, there being only one main street. I liked to be in that room and hear the horses clop by, and glance out to see who was on top.
At Thorpe View there was a long rectangular wooden table in the living room where we ate meals and played games. It had all sorts of little nicks and notches in it, which gave it character. I liked to feel the grooves with the tips of my fingers, imagining how they got there.
When you went out the door of the cottage, you would find yourself exactly in the place my cousin Annie painted.
Here is her pastel painting of Thorpe View:
Latest Comments
Ellen (Guest)
said:
| "Lynn, it must be a male thing or a family trait with the packing and loading the car. Tim and(...)" on Anticipation = .... | ||
Mrs Picky (Guest)
said:
| "Oh Lynn, what a day!! So glad it was just a warning!!! Enjoy the beautiful weather and someho(...)" on Disappeared. | ||
Wendy (Guest)
said:
| "I like this. Keep writing! " on Pale Nouns. | ||
Wendy (Guest)
said:
| "I met Jacques d'Ambroise once at my parents about 25 years ago - an unforgettable experience. S(...)" on Ballet’s Jacque.... | ||
Wendy (Guest)
said:
| "I am studying Norwegian and my Teach Yourself Norwegian book concentrates on each of these sce(...)" on About Happy Tim.... | ||
Table of Contents for Blog Articles
- Beginning of my Writing Life
- Should I begin a website?
- Three Steps to Creativity
- Communicating Effervescence
- The Fallen Leaves of Books
- After a Virus Has Passed
- Sex, Horses, and Breathing
- Feast for Seven Women
- Talks with My Cousin Dorothy
- What’s in a tidbit?
- The Value of Layers
- Tweaking Facts to Create Fiction
- Thanksgiving
- Thinking of Our Summer Cabin at the Lake
- Christmas Is Coming
- Jo
- Roland
- Christmas Cards
- The Pinch of Christmas
- Passed Away
- “I’m here, but the car ‘s not.”
- Elizabeth Gilbert’s Committed; A Skeptic Makes Peace with Marriage
- About Happy Times in Norway
- Satisfied
- Innocence Lost