While I was in the birthplace of Rexburg, ID last weekend, I was feeling nostalgic. I had an overwhelming urge to visit all of my old haunts and terrorize the new residents of said haunts. Everything was so much smaller than I remembered it. Is it possible that places and houses shrink as they age? People do… why not houses? I think it has something to do with the Jersey Shore epidemic… our brains are shrinking, so the things around us shrink as well. Or… maybe it just had something to do with the fact that the memories I had of these places were when I was 1-, 2-, 3- and 4-feet something… and now I’m towering near 5’9″. Actually… and this made me the happiest of happies! When I was at the doctor in January for my quarter yearly visit, the nurse kept looking me up and down whilst looking at the chart (the creepiest of creepies)… and she’s like… there’s no way you’re 5’3″… and I’m like, on my knees I’m close… and she’s like… that’s the height they have in your chart. So, she measured me again (in shoes) and I came in at 5’8″!!! All these years I thought I was 5’9″ (or 5’3″ according to my chart). Y’all… I’m practically a short person now… or maybe I did shrink in height during weight loss.
SHUT THE TRAP, Whitney!
Back to the haunts. The first drive by was my grandparents house. I have fond memories of that house. My grandpa was quite the gardener. He loved his pansies and had a beautiful flower garden in the backyard. My grandpa passed when I was 7 or 8 years old, but I still remember tending to his flower garden with him when I was a little girl… watering the flowers… and I will always attribute my love for pansies to my grandpa.
There are trees missing from the front yard… and I’m sure the backyard isn’t kept nearly as nicely as it was in the olden days. In the basement of this house, my grandma had an apartment that she rented out to married college kids. My sister and I were forever trying to sneak into that apartment. We got in a couple of times… snoopy snoopersons. It’s a wonder that I was never hog tied and thrown out the window. I also remember having wars in the backyard with the neighbor kids through the fence where we’d throw apples at each other and call each other names… it was glorious. A feeling of happiness still washes over me when I see this little house.
The next stop was to Porter Park… just a couple of blocks from gram’s house. We used to walk there in the summers… and then beg to ride the carousel. Rexburgians… is the carousel still open in the summer? It looked a little sad in March… all shut up.
I had to take a picture of the inside through the glass… which turned out really great as you can guess already!
Then we were off to the house I lived in as a child. I have a lot of rebble rousing memories about this house… peeing on the neighbor’s sidewalks, wreaking havoc like havoc hadn’t ever been wreaked!
I also remember rolling down that hill, and hoping we didn’t get concussions when we landed in the street and bonked our heads on the pavement… and/or get run over by a car.
If you go to Rexburg and you don’t go to Porter’s… there’s something wrong with your brain space. Porter’s is pretty much the only store you need to go to. Porter’s pretty much has everything craft you can think of… everything. If you want to make something out of dental floss, I’m sure they’d have the supplies. I somehow missed a picture of the outside, but on the inside I did take pictures of everything owl… and Madre even made her way out the door with this little diddy…
It’s a bobble head owl. He jiggles if you set him on a table and tap him. Our final stop down memory lane was to the best chocolate place in the history of the United States. I’ve eaten my fair share of chocolate… I’m like a chocolate taste tester who pays to taste test. Where do I get the job the other way around? Everyone else needs to quit trying… Florence’s Chocolates are HANDS DOWN the best chocolates in the United States of America, Canada, Uruguay, Lichtenburg, Antarctica, and that country I can’t remember the name of. HANDS DOWN!
Florence, the owner, actually sang at my parent’s wedding back in 1682. Yes, that wasn’t a typo… it was that long ago! Florence knows how to make a PMSing chic smile. I’ll tell you what! A moment on the lips… a lifetime on the hips.. and DAGNABBED worth every bite of it!
Question of the Day: Where’s your hometown? Do you ever go back and walk down memory lane?
Oh look… Baby Cruz is saying bye bye and happy weekend, friends!! Thanks for sticking with us and have a splendid weekend!