Home at twelve

The Writing 101’s Day 11 challenge is to write about where you lived when you were twelve.  I’ve covered the age of twelve, and revisiting my childhood home, in other posts, but this one is different.  As I began thinking about my old house, lots of things came back to me, and I’ve tried to capture a few of them here.

SCAN0038When I was twelve, I lived in a two-story red house on the corner of Pine Street and Main.  The local Pioneer was across the street to the north, and we had a huge back yard.  At least, I thought it was huge.  Then again, I thought the house was huge, too.  Trees filled the yard, and flower beds existed in various states of decay.  They weren’t the only things in that state.

If I close my eyes, I can still see the white linoleum that was always dirty near the front door and the peeling wallpaper of the dining room.  I can still see the sun glaring off the screen of our old RCA TV (’80s vintage, of course).  I can still see the colorful patchwork of carpet hidden by all the crap that littered my room and the kitten posters on my seafoam green bedroom walls.

00000001My mom hated that color – she wanted me to pick something a shade darker, but I loved it.  It was better than the ugly shade of blue that matched my parents’ bedroom, and a heck of a lot better than the Pepto Bismol pink…

Happy food!

downloadSo for the Writing 101 Day Ten post, I’m supposed to write about my favorite food, and do it in my own voice. But everything I write is in my own voice, so what does that even mean?  I mean, I have different voices, obviously – there’s the voice I use with my kids, the voice I use with my kids when they’re in trouble, the voice I use when I’m talking to other adults, the voice I write novels in (and that changes depending on the story), the voice I write blog posts in, the voice I write my diary in…

I guess I’m just going to have to pick one, aren’t I? 😀

Alrighty, then.  I have about as many favorite foods as I have voices (apparently I have a lot of those), but the one that immediately comes to mind is pork chops and rice.  I usually replace the pork chops with chicken breasts, though, which is also fantastic (maybe even better than the pork chops), and my dad would often substitute steaks.  My mom used to make this dish, and I adored it.  Couldn’t get enough.

But the rice is the best part.   The recipe: