Friday, January 21, 2011

The House That Built Me 3

Our Third house in our series of "The House That Built Me" comes from Annie ~ Chickadee Primitives.  

Annie says ...
"The house that built me belonged to my grandmother, Deedee. Well, it didn’t really belong to her. She rented it after she and my grandfather lost the house they built due to illness. But Deedee made it a home. This is the home that built me.
The house was no more than 600 square feet. It was nestled inside the mountain she grew up on, and was surrounded by flat acreage for gardening, and deep woods for exploring. It was here that I learned how to chop wood, use a chainsaw, and stack it properly. She taught me how to run a tractor, and plant potatoes in mounds. As a child, I dreamed of the weekends with Deedee, in her old, beat-up truck, learning how to grow and harvest sugar baby watermelons from dirty seeds in overall pockets, and catch fireflies to put into jars. These are the lessons that built me.
We’d go out, into the forest behind the little house, on her jalopy of a snowmobile, with a rusty, metal sleigh attached for gathering wood. I loved riding on the back of that snowmobile, or better yet, driving, Deedee on the back, with her arms wrapped around me. This is the way to live, I think. These were the days the built me.
At Christmas, the whole family would gather at this tiny abode. My grandfather and I would sit at the piano together and play chopsticks for hours it seemed. He also played the accordion, which was always a treat, and was sure to get my grandmother out of the kitchen to join in on her harmonica. This was the music that built me.

When it came time to build my own house, I tried to reflect on Deedee’s little place in the woods. I made a conscious effort to create a home, not just a house. I wanted Star Flowers, Lady Slippers, and Princess Pine, in the woods all around me. I wanted to wake up to the birds, and sleep to the song of the Katydids. I wanted guests to feel at home when they visit, and eagerly await their return. I wanted to find peace and solace in my house, and to feel loved when I’m home, as I always did in the house that built me. "

Thank you Annie for sharing with us, The House That Built  You !


  1. Awww ABBB, I totally understand why your Deedee was so special to you. She was an awesome grandma! Thank you for sharing her with us. ♥

  2. Annie. I feel like I know your Deedee through your writing about her. Hugs to you and a wave to Deedee, whose love is still there with you.

    Also, this is a really interesting way to feature artists. Love it.

  3. Aboo,
    You grew up in the bosom of a wonderful loving family and the woman so close to your heart takes up residence there still. Her qualities that you admire so much are the very same qualities that we admire in you.
    Your time with her lives on - thank you for sharing your Deedee with all of us. Your love for her resonates deeply in every word you typed.
    As I sit here wiping away the tears, I can almost see the tear stains from your writing...

  4. DeeDee lives on within you, its apparent in your writings...she taught you what no one else could and it's DeeDee's reflection that shines thru you and in everything you do...What a wonderful home that built you....I love you Boo...xoxo

  5. Annie, Beautiful! You brought a tear to my eye.

  6. Just wonderful...thank you for sharing a piece of you with us :)

  7. Annie thanks for sharing your beautiful beginings.

  8. Thank you Girls! What a nice tribute to our special houses and the people that made them that way. :)

  9. Your DeeDee would be so very proud of you.Thanks for sharing this with us. Hugs~~Pam

  10. thanks for sharing DeeDee with us....very moving

  11. Annie,

    What wonderful memories.

    Thank you for sharing a bit of your past with us.


  12. Aw, Annie -- you made me cry! I know how much Deedee meant to you, and how much the home you and Deron built means to you now.

    I'm missing you and all my TEA buddies and think of you often. Hope you are snuggled safe and sound in your haven, watching the snow fly. Love to Mr. Bibbs!



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