Thursday, 10 June 2010

Gimme Shelter

In June 1998, my life and soul imploded. I was driven up to a freezing cold town, to live here:

A rehab. (Or "the hab," for those in the know.) We all used to joke that in the brochure it was described as "..a rambling old house .."

Oh if those walls could talk - the naked flesh, the covert sneaking ..... the tears that were shed. The cycles broken and friendships formed. The hard stuff in group therapy. Every time I have struggles in my life ... I wish I was back in here. Safe, learning to live again. Free from responsibility.

The next house is special too ... I moved here from the hab, and lived here when I met Dave. He totally wanted me bad, back in the days when he wore beige overalls to work. We shared a ridiculous pash on the front porch late one night. Kissing sober was terrifying:

I moved in to Dave's flat in May 2000:

We often talk of that year we spent together, alone. Doing whatever we wanted. I got down on my knees and begged for Gods help in this flat ... and I truly meant it. My life began, then. Max was conceived in this flat, the weekend of my 29th birthday. My stepson Tim came to live with us when he was 8 years old. This funky flat above a shop in the main street. The rent was $155 a week, there was a white cat named Bruce who would sneak in all the time. I planted broccoli in the backyard, and separated myself from my family of origin. One of the hardest but best things I ever did.

This was the next one, the dear little house we rented while Dave was building our house:

Close enough to town so I could walk, as I still didn't have my drivers license. We brought Max home from the hospital to this house. My heart fell in love with him a thousand times a day. Dave and I would bundle him off to counselling sessions because we would fight so hard. Sometimes we would fight so hard in the counselling session, the therapist had to be umpire and Max lounged lazily in his bassinet in the corner. Whoopsies! It was a huge adjustment period, for all of us. Max grew - and so did I.

And this one, this big beautiful home on a 4-acre block:

We have lived here for six years now. Dave says he could never do it again, so I guess we are kind of stuck here. This house has seen tears and laughter ... and fear. These walls have heard a baby cry and a mothers pain and a father vomit until he passed out. A boy learnt to ride his bike around the driveway. A naughty stepson threw a party and wrecked it. Parties and family dinners and sexy love time in front of the fire while all the kids are at school. I wonder what more it will see?


I've had the idea for this blog post for a while. All of this houses are within a 15km radius of each other, so I drive past them often, marvelling at where we have been. Who we were, all that happened. Four walls and a roof .... that's all. I moved around so often as a child, it was terrible. One thing I want to give to my children is a sense of belonging somewhere .... a "home."

I'd love to know what your favourite houses are, and why. What happened in your four walls? Please add your URL to the Linky below so we can all have a stickybeak - you don't have to include a pic if you don't want to. There's no winner or anything, just some kind of creative sharing circle thing I totally made up. You're welcome.


Lastly, THANK YOU for your wonderful love and glee in regards to Dave's continued remission. It's been a big week, full of big decisions. We are so happy right now, that we better hurry up and be more happy before something bad happens HA.


  1. Great idea Eden, thanks for the peekaboo into your life and for the inspiration!


  2. And, I sooooooo wish I had included the apostrophe in my Linky.

  3. There are actually four posts on my blog that I did just yesterday about my house. Ahhh... my house.

    My grandparents lived there for 30 years, my dad remodeled the entire upstairs. It was the house that held so many dreams of my future and it was the house where I watched it all fall apart after my son was born.

    It is the house that saw many an argument and it has been broken down and repaired more times then I can count. And now, after all the bad has gone, it is the house I have redone in an effort to get rid of the holes in the walls and the memories of the yelling and the hitting and move on to something better and stronger and most importantly happier. :-)

  4. Mine is kind of long- but I've lived many places.

  5. "We are so happy right now, that we better hurry up and be more happy before something bad happens HA."

    HA! I so totally get that. I love you, Eddie.

    Love this, too: "Sticky Beak" HA!

    What a great idea. I will try to post something soon and add a link.


  6. I love love love this.

    And the pictures too!

    As I was reading it I was thinking "I"m totally going to steal this idea and do it too" -- and then you have a linky so I can be legit!


    I just adore your writing, and you.

    I also want to move to Australia and have already decided that if something catastrophic ever happens (dear God please no but that's how I am always having to mentally travel each possibly path) that I'm starting over in Australia.

    Love again,


  7. This was great! Thanks for the inspiration.

    I can't believe all of these places that you've lived are so close together. All of my residences are a minimum of 10 miles apart, and go from there to 30 miles, to 300 miles to 1000 miles. And I don't even move around much.

  8. Very cool idea. I know I couldn't manage pictures of all the places I've lived since they are scattered all over 4 states.

  9. I love this post and the idea and I might just get around to a blog post on it. Those various walls and the various manifestations of self and sanity. And the changes. I was there with you the whole way.

  10. I've had this post up on my screen for 3 weeks now, enjoying your descriptions.

    I gave it a go myself.

    Great idea!

  11. wow that was a beautiful post. I am here through Lori's blog and I just wanted to thank you for that...what a wonderful idea to revisit the places that made us, who we are. :)


Write to be understood, speak to be heard. - Lawrence Powell

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