The House That Built Me

There it is, the house that built me. It's a trailer, really, but Mom says it's a house because we put a roof over the top and a permanent foundation. It was a single wide mobile home when we moved it there. Now it's twice the size and not going anywhere. Yep, that's right, we kicked the wheels right off!

My initials are in the cement foundation out back under the shed. It was the first building project I worked on and I was so proud of what I did.

I went on to help hang the dry wall and help build the roof above our heads.

On the right is the cactus they planted to keep me in my room at night. And the nails in the windows were for when the cactus didn't work.

The room my brother now sleeps in was my Christmas gift one year. It was a newly built, bigger room with fresh paint and carpet. The colors I chose were purple and teal. The color I got...was a lovely shade of...mauve. Because what 80's teen doesn't love mauve?! blech!

The pool in the back yard, I helped dig the hole. I got to drive a bobcat and thought I was so cool. Yes, it's an above ground pool under ground! It was a compromise; Mom wanted an in ground pool so cheapo step dad gave it to her!

My mom still lives in the house, but everything inside has completely changed. With all new colors, flooring, and a brand new kitchen, the place hardly looks the same. When I go to visit, it doesn't feel like going home. The house has changed so much it has a life of it's own.
Where now there is bright colors, there used to be dreary brown standard trailer issued faux wood panel wall paper.

Where the laundry room was, was where I sat talking on the phone for hours, trying to talk quietly, so no one would hear.

Before there was a dishwasher I had to wash it all by hand, and then when I was 16 we got a portable dishwasher that you had to roll over to the sink and hook up to the faucet.

The air vents in the floor were great for talking to my sister when we were sent to our rooms.

Across the street, where those houses are is where the cows used to be. We would scale the fence and play cow chip tag, and run scared from the bull.

The place is very different and, yet it's still the same. It is a place that raised a family and sheltered us from rain. The walls they held much comfort when I was locked inside my room. It was my sanctuary, it was my music hall, and it was my place to dream of getting out.  It's not some fancy mansion, with a beautiful view, but even without money we always had something to do. For all that I experienced there from violence to laughter and to tears, it was the place that I grew up in, the place that made me, me.

won't take nothing but a memory from the house that built me (Miranda Lambert)

This was written for a prompt from Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop: The House that Built Me
Mama’s Losin’ It


  1. Beautiful! An absolutely beautiful post. I love, love, love and love some more Miranda Lambert. And that song touches me every time. It has a deep meaning for me too. I have contemplated writing a post with that song as inspiration but am not quite brave enough to put out there all the emotion it brings. Maybe I will work on it. Thank you for sharing.
    I wish I could zoom in on the pic a little more - is that a century plant in the front to the left? Kinda looks like it. We have one of those in front of the trailer my sister lives in in Florida. I snagged a baby and brought it to NH - its still hangin' in 2 yrs later. :)
    Anyhow - thanks for this beautiful post. Glad I saw it on twitter and popped over! :)

  2. I think houses of all shapes and sizes can be homes. I enjoyed visiting yours.

  3. Oh this was really sweet. And how neat that you got to help build the house that built you!

    Visiting from Mama Kats.

  4. What a lovely story.

  5. How cool that you worked on the house.. GEe you don't like Mauve? Really why not.. J/K j/k

  6. A bobcat? You drove a bobcat? That DEFINITELY makes you cool! (Says the woman who drove a tractor for two summers. ;) )


Thanks for stopping by! sing me a song.