Some memories

One of the houses I grew up in, was a four story townhouse in the Ter Pelkwijkstraat in the center of town. It was a narrow house, with an (in my eyes) immense tall staircase. In front was a small yard, where we could play. There was one room on each side of the stairs, and a large attic. Here are some memories.

Sweet apples in the attic
Part of the attic floor is covered with newspaper, and on them are lots and lots of apples. I’m not sure why my mother has so many apples, maybe they were a gift from some parishioner. But the attic has become the best smelling space in the house. As the apples are drying through the winter, the sweet smell is wonderful. As winter progresses, more and more of the apples become a bit shriveled, their skins wrinkled like old men, and the smell fades slowly.

The chestnut chain
The house had a four story stairwell. One fall Jan and I collected horse chestnuts, and strung them on twine. The string was so long, to seemed to reach the length of the stairwell. In reality, it probably reached only one story, but I remember the weight of the string, and the glimmer of the shiny chestnuts. It must have been a hard job to get them on the string, but all I remember is the triumphant feeling of having accomplished such a feat!

The swing in the kitchen
The kitchen in the house  was in the back on the ground floor. The houses were tall, and stood closely together, so not much light penetrated there. Outside the kitchen was a small terrace, surrounded by walls, where my mother would dry the laundry. I don’t know who came up with the idea, but someone put a swing in the door to the terrace. Swinging back and forth towards the light and back into the dark kitchen, I was kept busy and not underfoot, so my mother could prepare lunch or dinner.

Summer Evening
I was about 7 yrs old. On my way home from school I had been hit by a motorcycle, and so I was laid up with my leg in a cast. It was June, and unbearably hot for Holland. The evening brought no relief. The smell of the chestnut tree across the street was heavy. My cast was itching and I felt miserable.
And then the sound of the ice cream truck came around the corner. Ice cream was a luxury at that time, and we did not get it very often. But I was so miserable and it was so hot, that my mother bought me an ice cream. It was heaven, and almost worth the cast.