I remember back when I was 3 or 4 we lived in a mobile home. we moved to Kansas when I started 3rd grade we had a house then. after my grandmother died we moved back to Oklahoma and we had a small house. me and my sisters and brother we took turns staying with my grandfather
A house on a very busy street with a big backyard and an alley behind it. it was light blue when we moved in but my dad had my brother paint it sea foam green. I would sit on the front steps and watch the traffic or wait for the mailman. I knew sometimes he brought samples and sometimes these samples were candy. I think that happened one time and I never forgot it, always waiting in hope for free candy. The house and a big dark green basement cement floor with bright orange stairs leading down. My brother would occasionally lock me down there and howl at me, just like a brother would. My dad worked as a body man out of the garage so it usually smelled a big like paint out there at least, and occasionally inside.
A 4-bedroom apartment with parents during school year and grandparent's house with small garden during the summer breaks, then usually also a week with parents or aunt in a house after my other grandparents.
We moved several times during my childhood.. at least four places till my family built their own place.. nothing fancy.. my most favorite was a Spanish style house not far from the beach.. but it was a rental.. not ours ..
I guess a normal one. It changed over time. From a single room to a two story to a bigger two story.
I sometimes try to imagine living elsewhere. But after losing dad, we stayed elsewhere for a bit, an old home that was actually sold to a relative. It felt different then.
Now things are way better. But point is, home and comfort and happiness are an inside thing. But yeah, it helps that you own the place and everything.
From I was 7/8-17 I lived with my mom in a ghetto ass apartment lol. It was so easy to break in that I occasionally did it cause I forgot my keys 😂 but my bedroom was actually a living room so I had a biiig room 💁🏼♀ Before that we lived in my dads apartment which was a one-bedroom apartment, with a big “backyard” with a local playground and everything so it was nice, and I had lots of friends there.
A tarpaper shack literally on the wrong side of the tracks. I was often afraid a freight train would derail and roll down the hill, crushing us all. We lived on a gravel road that you had to drive through the town cemetery to get to.
It was always a work in process. It was an old farmhouse built in the 20s. Over the years Dad put a lot of work into it until it looked like a 1970s bungalow with an attached garage.
One story, 3 bedroom ranch house, no dining room, no den, no basement, 1 bathroom for 5 people, 1/4 acre lot with lots of trees, a couple great for climbing, a giant lilac bush which smelled amazing in the spring and was great for hiding beer as a teen! A neighborhood full of kids, wooded areas, walking distance to a cove and a baseball field a couple blocks away. Rode my bike to school. It was heaven on earth to me.
