ALL THEM HOUSES - a memoir

 ALL THEM HOUSES - a memoir - an excerpt

Page 54 - 57

Then I knew that I was obliged to stop telling the flattering white lies that led to my fall in the first place. I learned that there is no security in conditional love. Did this truth set me free? No, indeed! It has gotten me into a whole lot of trouble.

I will talk more about this later. Because when I started dealing with these kinds of truths and white lies, I was no longer living at 32 Ashbury Avenue. No, no, by then I was well past the age of twelve.

I was not old enough to be making a commitment of any kind to anyone of the opposite sex. However, it is, indeed, the truth that at the age of ten, I did have my very first boyfriend.

His name was Augustine Arnone. He, along with his parents, moved into a house just down the street from ours on Ashbury Avenue. I think I was ten years old at the time of our meeting.

Augustine was from Italy. He spoke the Italian language and no English. This didn't seem to hamper our new friendship at all.  I taught him how to say a few words in English. More exciting, he taught me how to say naughty words in Italian; the word that stands out in my mind is fungala. I didn't know what the word meant but I did know it was a naughty word, one that I could use around my other friends who didn't know how to understand Italian. This gave me an edge.

I taught Augustine how to roller-skate. Together we would hold hands while we raced down the hill on Glenholme Avenue, remembering to make a sharp left hand turn onto Jesmond Avenue to avoid roller-skating into traffic.

Yes, Augustine was my first boyfriend. But he was, by far, not the last.

My life with my family on Ashbury Avenue was, in most ways, a good life. I will go back to the kitchen with its gas stove and skirted sink, its white, wooden table and its matching white cupboard with the glass doors that held the plates and other dishes.

I remember May 24th weekends with fireworks and fun. I remember one year, in particular, when somehow, by accident, the collection of fireworks all went off at once on the front verandah. What a scare! What beauty! What excitement!

Throughout Canadian winters I remember boots in the back porch, mitts drying by the warm gas oven, and drinking cocoa which had to be made in exactly the correct way with one teaspoon of cocoa, one teaspoon of sugar onto which milk is poured and mixed before the boiling water can be added.

Our city backyard was special to me as a child. It was where Mommy hung the laundry on the clothesline. It was where Daddy planted his vegetable garden. I remember sitting on the ground and eating straight from the earth the carrots, the beans, and the peas.  Yes, I survived. Perhaps even the earth was cleaner in those days than today.

Most of all I loved to spend time on the backyard swing.

I was blessed to have such a wonderful, caring, loving mother. She worked so very hard to keep our home clean and organized. I remember her brushing my hair. I remember her slipping the nickel into my hand for the collection plate at Sunday School. I remember her shaking her finger at me and saying, "Be good."

ALL THEM HOUSES - a memoir is found on my Amazon Author's page at https://amazon.com/author/audreyaustin

Or it can be found directly at  https://www.amazon.ca/All-Them-Houses-Audrey-Austin/dp/1542874076/ref=sr_1_1?crid=1PDWNWSPH0KO3&dib=eyJ2IjoiMSJ9.z-iqvAgC-hWWF7c_jQrBqYlJWrMheZyhXMQc6P2EDA0.C-VO4Y97f9XcGEt7WZluJEufmtS-Gw_PLeQWtN5xf_8&dib_tag=se&keywords=Audrey+Austin+All+Them+Houses&qid=1769702283&s=books&sprefix=audrey+austin+all+them+houses%2Cstripbooks%2C112&sr=1-1