Sunday, January 31, 2010

Logan Square Stop #3.

Ahh. That is 2210 N. Lowell, and that was home from 1972-1979. That was the house with the gigantic vegetable garden in the backyard, the knotty pine-panelled + red&white-tile-floored basement of wonder where I watched Dave Kingman hit his one-handed homerun and played with both my Barbies and METAL Tonka trucks and which had an additional full kitchen, the vast cavernous attic of mysteries, the main floor kitchen where we had all sorts of taffy-pulling/bread-rising/cookie-baking/papier-mache-building/homework-completing/family-dinner-devouring activities. This is the neighborhood with the alley down the middle of the block which held such grand hazards as bike-devouring pot-holes, behemoth garbage trucks, and voraciously-grilled family cars. Norman Rockwell couln't have painted a more idyllic childhood. I miss that magical place.


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