The holidays have me in a quandary this year. I wonder wh...
The holidays have me in a quandary this year. I wonder why I'm not in the spirit. I usually love Christmas and everything involved with the preparations. We've purchased the presents, the tree is up, and I'm still not in the mood. Even drinking hot chocolate every night hasn't helped. Ugh. It's a mystery.
Something interesting happened this past week. Please bear with me. Let me tell you a short story.
A month after I graduated from high school, I ran away from home (long story) and ended up in Georgetown, Massachusetts, at the home of my Aunt Margie and Uncle Mike. They were marvelous and took care of me, set me up in a boarding house in Boston, the fascade of which was used years later representing the St. Eligius hospital on the St. Elsewhere television show.
While I stayed in Georgetown, I commuted to Boston, working at Aetna Life and Surety. Dull job, but it paid the bills and I earned $72 a week - gross. This was in 1968 and that was better than babysitting money, so I was okay with the salary.
The house in Georgetown was a large Victorian, spacious rooms and lots of them. My aunt and uncle had purchased the place in the early '60's and I'd spent each summer with them for years. They had two sons, younger than me and I think my aunt particularly enjoyed having a girl around. She took me shopping, a lot, supplying me with my next year's school clothes.
I married in 1969, had my son in April, 1970 and in January of 1971, joined my husband in Iceland, where we lived for nearly two years. When we came back in September, 1972, we headed to Georgetown. It was quite a reunion, my uncle taking my son under his wing and thoroughly enjoying sneaking him sips of beer.
We were transferred to New Orleans in November, 1972 and didn't make it back to New England before my Uncle Mike passed away in December of 1974, a month after our daughter was born.
In 1977, my aunt sold the beautiful house on West Main Street. I found a book called A Conversation with John Updike, which says that he lived in the former Elmer Liebsch house, that's how I found out.
Now to what I learned this week. Author John Updike bought that house and lived in it from 1977 to 1982. Here he is across the street from the house.
To the left in the picture, there is a long extension to the house. My uncle always called it the Rathskeller. It was my cousin's rec room, a large space where they could really enjoy themselves.
In this picture, the Updikes are in the kitchen. To the right, the door that lead to the dining room, beyond that the formal living room. The stairs leading to the second story, where the bedrooms were located.
There was carpet in the upstairs bathroom. First time I'd ever seen that.
John Updike jumping rope in the driveway.
I have an old photo of me sitting on my husband's lap in a small sitting room just off the kitchen. I believe it's the only picture of me in the house.
While living in this house, John Updike wrote and won a Pulitzer Prize for his book Rabbit is Rich.
All these years later, I still miss my uncle. He was there for me during a very difficult time in my life, as was Aunt Margie. She lives in Arizona, her two sons long married with children of their own.
She's nearing 80 years old and doesn't write letters or Christmas cards, so I don't hear from her. I send a card to her each year though, as I can't let too much time pass with no communication. She's a lovely woman she is. Sad she's had to spend so many years without my uncle. They did so love each other.
Something interesting happened this past week. Please bear with me. Let me tell you a short story.
A month after I graduated from high school, I ran away from home (long story) and ended up in Georgetown, Massachusetts, at the home of my Aunt Margie and Uncle Mike. They were marvelous and took care of me, set me up in a boarding house in Boston, the fascade of which was used years later representing the St. Eligius hospital on the St. Elsewhere television show.
While I stayed in Georgetown, I commuted to Boston, working at Aetna Life and Surety. Dull job, but it paid the bills and I earned $72 a week - gross. This was in 1968 and that was better than babysitting money, so I was okay with the salary.
The house in Georgetown was a large Victorian, spacious rooms and lots of them. My aunt and uncle had purchased the place in the early '60's and I'd spent each summer with them for years. They had two sons, younger than me and I think my aunt particularly enjoyed having a girl around. She took me shopping, a lot, supplying me with my next year's school clothes.
I married in 1969, had my son in April, 1970 and in January of 1971, joined my husband in Iceland, where we lived for nearly two years. When we came back in September, 1972, we headed to Georgetown. It was quite a reunion, my uncle taking my son under his wing and thoroughly enjoying sneaking him sips of beer.
We were transferred to New Orleans in November, 1972 and didn't make it back to New England before my Uncle Mike passed away in December of 1974, a month after our daughter was born.
In 1977, my aunt sold the beautiful house on West Main Street. I found a book called A Conversation with John Updike, which says that he lived in the former Elmer Liebsch house, that's how I found out.
Now to what I learned this week. Author John Updike bought that house and lived in it from 1977 to 1982. Here he is across the street from the house.To the left in the picture, there is a long extension to the house. My uncle always called it the Rathskeller. It was my cousin's rec room, a large space where they could really enjoy themselves.
In this picture, the Updikes are in the kitchen. To the right, the door that lead to the dining room, beyond that the formal living room. The stairs leading to the second story, where the bedrooms were located.There was carpet in the upstairs bathroom. First time I'd ever seen that.
John Updike jumping rope in the driveway.I have an old photo of me sitting on my husband's lap in a small sitting room just off the kitchen. I believe it's the only picture of me in the house.
While living in this house, John Updike wrote and won a Pulitzer Prize for his book Rabbit is Rich.
All these years later, I still miss my uncle. He was there for me during a very difficult time in my life, as was Aunt Margie. She lives in Arizona, her two sons long married with children of their own.
She's nearing 80 years old and doesn't write letters or Christmas cards, so I don't hear from her. I send a card to her each year though, as I can't let too much time pass with no communication. She's a lovely woman she is. Sad she's had to spend so many years without my uncle. They did so love each other.
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