Warning:probably an extremely sappy post ahead.

Hey I’m titled to them every once in awhile right?

For at least the last 3 years around Holiday time I’ve been extremely homesick. I was down in AZ away from the bulk of my family and friends. Not to say I haven’t made amazing friends in AZ it was just different.

I remember Thanksgiving as a child packing up the car and heading over to Driftwood Key, WA(outside of Hansville) I remember how disappointed I would be if dad actually decided to take the long way around instead of taking the ferry. Taking the ferry to many in Western WA symbolizes long wait lines,high ferry prices,and really just another stop int he commute. The ferry for me though always symbolized more.For me it would symbolize we were that much closer to my grandparents,maybe dad sneaking off to the snack machines,and a 20 minute world of wonder to explore.

We were usually the first of the three brothers’ families to arrive. We also usually had the longest distance to drive as we either lived in Eastern WA or Oregon.I remember being greeted by Grandpa and Grandma Bartlett. I remember my parents usually being exhausted by the drive and I just couldn’t understand because you know they got to DRIVE!I now very much feel their pain.

The house up at Driftwood Key was always a magical place to me. It was a place of beauty and simpler times. I was always amazed at how grandma could cook up a feast for 11 or more in her minuscule kitchen. (seriously!You’ve heard of a two butt kitchen?Well I think you could only fit half a butt in her kitchen)Nature was right out your front or back door.

(yes that’s yours truly at about 8 or 9 rocking the doggy tails. The handsome guy with the stocking cap and    very in style Nikes would be my daddy)

It just was a very magical place in my young childhood eyes. At night we would all go downstairs and play music and sing. During the day sometimes the guys would go out fishing and speak to us over the CB. Instead of our code names being Papa Bear,Mama Bear and Baby Bear, it was Papa Pear,Mama Pear, and Baby Pear(you know because our last name is the same as the pear.) I remember thinking that was SO clever. In all my dorkiness of today I still think it’s rather clever.

I remember trying to trailblaze through the brier patches, or simply going down to the beach to go gooey duck hunting. I remember sitting out on the side of the house with grandpa having hour long conversations about how hard headed I was. I remember playing boggle out on the back deck with grandma. I remember the bunk room….ohhh the bunkroom. The room had enough room for a bunk bed and that’s about it. Me and my cousin Graham would lay in there at night and giggle.

I remember how even if the power went out on Thanksgiving day we managed to pull  together a great Thanksgiving dinner. Hey we were barbecuing turkeys before it was the thing to do!

I remember all of us sitting around the dining room dinner ready for the blessing so we could fill our fingertips with olives, and fight over the cranberry sauce. I remember how even though grandpa never prayed if you were caught not praying by him you were instilled the “fear” with just one look from him from across the table.

I recall lots of laughter. The smell of the 70’s style wood stove. Watching Dorf with grandpa and my other cousins. Hour upon hour of Candy Land and grandma letting us sneak pieces of fudge even after my mother had said no more. At night me and which ever cousin was there would listen to the grown ups in the dining room playing dominoes and laughing and talking. I remember not being able to wait till I was old enough to join them.

Sadly my grandpa and one of my uncles have passed away.

The last Thanksgiving dinner like that I remember was back before we moved to AZ so I had to be about 12 or 13.

I really wish I could’ve shared those magical moments with my children.

My uncle that has passed got to meet all my children. My grandpa did not. He was too lost int he throw of Alzheimer’s when I had Nathaniel. I did take Nathaniel to see him soon after he was born.

For a few minutes my grandpa seemed to be coherent with us as I introduced him to his first great grandson. He cried.

Driftwood Key will ALWAYS hold a special place in my heart.

It was my world away from the real world and I think it was the same for my grandparents as well.



About twisteddomesticgoddess

I'm the momma/step momma/ teacher/head cook/ top organizer/ supplier of milk and baby kisses here at Casa La Crazy. Life with 7 kids is rarely dull and usually exciting. Add in 3 cats and one fun loving boyfriend and life is pretty adventurous!Come on in sit down and please bring some extra coffee!

Posted on November 27, 2011, in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 5 Comments.

  1. Michaela Mitchell

    What awesome memories! I can imagine a little of your homesickness…I just spent my first Thanksgiving without making the drive to see my mom, and I was not happy about it…

  2. Such a special walk down memory lane – thank you for sharing with us. Oh, and I think I remember my dad having that exact same pair of Nikes – brillant blue with the yellow swoosh. Love it!

  3. Wendy Darling,
    What beautiful memories you hold so near and dear. xoxo

  4. That’s Sweet! Sounds like a magical place to me!

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