My house is Japanese styled. It is not full on Japanese, it simply has a few Japanese features, such as shoji screens and the layout. My bedroom used to be a shoji screen. The layout of are home is like a giant U-shape, with a courtyard lying in the center of the property. It has quite a large front yard, with pine needles all over because of the two huge pine trees present. I would not be surprised if these trees are the tallest in the neighborhood. Early on, one of these trees got an upgrade: a swing! It is a simple swing, a not-so comfortable piece of wood and some scratchy rope. But man, was it fun. It can do both back and forth swinging as well a twisting. A handful of years later the other tree got an upgrade: a tree fort! It is not a tree house, because it not actually in the tree, but standing right beside it. It is made out of large pallets, and the structure itself has two floors. My house has lots of plants, both inside and out, and all kinds, too. Some produce food, and some are just to look at.
I bet my mom would say that our house was filled with the noise of my brother walking. We both seem to land heavily on our heels as we walk, and having a shaft between the foundation and floors of our home, aka hollow floors, the noise of walking would be projected and spread farther than usual.
My first memory of my Californian home that I currently live in (even though I am currently in China) is when I was not even living in it. I was somewhere between the age of 3 and 4. My brother had just been born. The people that I remember being there are my mom and my second cousin, Lexi. I sort of remember her parents in this memory as well, but not too much.
The group was visiting the house before we moved in. I do not know if my parents had actually bought the house yet or not. Being 4 years old, that component was not important. All I knew is that it was a big new space, with plenty of room to run and jump.
Lexi and I spot a huge sandbox in the backyard. Lexi grabs my hand, and says something along the lines of, “Come on Ruby! Let’s go play outside!” CRASH! Lexi hits a glass door head first. All I remember after that is her in the car, a big band-aid on her forehead. She wasn’t too happy.
I love my house.
First off, it was conveniently located a house and a width of a street away from my elementary school. Seriously. Sometimes, when I forgot something at home, I would recross the street and get it, still making it to class with plenty of time to spare. My brother and I would also play in the school’s yard after hours. During school hours, it was called “the school.” After hours, my family called it “the park.” Once my family got a dog, my dad took him there every single day. We really appreciated and enjoyed the park having no lock.
Secondly, we have two fish ponds. The biggest one is filled with over two dozen koi fish. The other has more wild types of fish, such as carp, catfish, bluegill, and depending on the time of year, trout. My dad and brother, being quite skilled fishermen, catch these fish and put some of them here.
There are a lot more reasons why I love my California home, but I have to wrap this post up.
But what I will say is that I am proud to call that house, as well as Southern California, my home. As a prospective traveler, I thought that once I start to see the rest of the world, I would say, “the world is my home.” And while that is technically true, I definitely say that SoCal is my home. It has amazing people and food diversity, which I find truly awesome. And my specific location in SoCal, the Inland Empire, every kind of environment is within an arm’s reach.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Our House.”