Late Afternoon Reading

I've started reading lately. I meant to read a lot this summer, but somehow I never actually got around to reading much. I tried to read Fever Pitch, but since I wasn't all that interested in soccer, it didn't appeal to me much. I didn't finish it. Instead, I let Nemesis borrow it so that she can be bored, too. I did read Eats Shoots and Leaves, which I started last summer and never finished. So finally when Harry Potter came my way, I read that. Then I read He's Just Not That Into You. Then I read The DaVinci Code. Right now, I'm in the middle of reading Fast Food Nation, The Something-Something-Something About a Dog in the Night or Something, and, of course, The Book of Mormon, which I'm italicizing because I'm trying to read it quickly like a novel.

So last night I was on the couch in the late afternoon, reading on our futon. The windows in the front room don't open, so I open the door. This way, I reason, people in my new ward can see that my house is open and stop in. Of course, they don't, and I certainly wouldn't, but that's my reasoning, anyway.

Well, as I was reading (The Something-Something-Something About a Dog in the Night or Something), I noticed that a car with two old people in it drove by real slow. I figured they were probably looking for an address. A few minutes later, the same car drove by real slow and then stopped right in front of the house and stared at me. I stared back and they started talking, so I went out to the car to talk to them.

The driver was a man, probably in his late 60s. The woman, who was so tiny that her head barely peeked above the car window, was his mother. They started talking to me.

Son: My dad built this house himself.

Mother: Yep. He did all the work himself.

Son: This is where I grew up.

Mother: So many years ago!

Son: And my dad built this house. He built it.

Mother: That was back in 1937. He built this house and we had all our kids running around here.

Son: There were eleven kids.

Me (embarrassed because the yard is somewhat unkempt and the house is a little run-down): Wow, that's incredible! Well, I just moved in a week ago. I'll be planting the garden later this weekend, and I just love the house!

Mother: Do you like it here?

Me: Oh yes. It's a wonderful house. I love it here.

Son: We just live down the street, but we've never seen the door open before so we've never seen what the inside of the house looks like---we just wanted to let you know why we were staring.

Mother: That wall didn't used to be there in the front room. The whole front of the house was open, and the TV was there...

Me (wondering how they possibly fit in eleven kids): Wow! Well, now the other half is my little brother's room. He has to walk through my room to get there.

Son: That's what we figured! That's what we figured had to have happened!

Mother: There was a time when this place was full of children! Children all in the neighborhood, so many children! They'd run and play under that tree there...

Me: Now the neighborhood is just full of students.

Mother: Isn't that fun!

So we carried on for a while, and then they said goodbye and drove off.

It was an interesting experience to meet the people who actually built the home and who lived there for so long. The son even said that his bedroom was in the basement---and the basement is really scary! I can't believe that anyone actually lived down there! I feel an even greater need to take care of the yard and the outside of the house now (in addition to my sweeping away cobwebs and clearing off the walkway) just so that they can feel that their house is in good hands when they drive past in the future.