Old Home Week

It's been a few years since we ventured back to the familiar landscape of my growing up years. Bear didn't remember anything about his grandparents' home in Issaquah and our trip down was full of questions; "Where did you play?" "Who were your friends?" Stuff like that.

One of the first things Bear wanted to do upon our arrival was take a walk despite pouring rain and puddles everywhere...no problemo. I think most of it had to do with his desire to carry one of Grandma's umbrellas.

Off he went, through the neighborhood that has seen the tracks of my sneakers more than once. My mom gave me a walking tour, who was there, who had moved away, who had begun remodeling. It was nice to see her still so engaged in the comings and goings of a place that held a generation of kids within its quiet streets.

Those same streets aren't so quiet now, though, and I had to keep reminding Bear to stop, look and listen when we came to a crossroad. We sure don't have this many cars in our neck of the North.

Bear was also highly interested in the sidewalks and driveways of the older houses along our route. Anchorage houses (at least in our neighborhood) are clearly 1970's style; built in a hurry and with no sidewalks. My son found it most delightful to run up and down the driveways of people I don't know, sort of funny that he assumed the owner wouldn't care because a kid is outside playing, right?

Always so fascinating to see the differences in awareness and thought of my Alaskan child when we visit the Lower 48.