I want to capture more of my memories (at least, how I remember things). I always think I’ve lived in a peculiar number of houses, so as a strange little exercise I’m going to try to capture one memory from each. Let’s just tackle the first 10 houses today, back for more later.

  1. Maple Avenue: we’d play in the front garden during the summer and run furiously for the pop man when he drove down our street. I liked dandelion and burdock (and orangeade, and limeade), but really I think I just liked sugar and the thrill of overwhelming choice.
  2. Perdiswell Street: me and my sisters had a club called “scavenger club,” where we’d explore the house and garden to find little treasures (like, you know, rocks and stuff). We stored them in luminous wrist-pouches that came free in a box of Cheerios breakfast cereal.
  3. Northwick Avenue: my father set up the most elaborate easter-egg hunt, and we invited my school friend Jenny to join us on the hunt. It felt magical to live right next to a school friend at that age. I didn’t know that they really existed outside of the school gates.
  4. Leslie Avenue: We had the longest garden I’d ever seen (which probably wouldn’t seem quite so long now). It had trees that I loved to climb. Not very big ones, but big enough to say that you’d climbed a tree, and that’s roughly 30% of what young boys want to say.
  5. New Street: we lived above a restaurant housed in a (very wonky) early 18th century building. It had tiny windows that I loved staring out of, watching people walk up and down the street below. I felt so high up, even though it was probably just three stories.
  6. Turner Close: my father told us that we didn’t have enough money for Christmas presents. On Christmas morning, we unwrapped a gift from his boss—bicycle accessories. After putting things in our bedrooms, we descended the stairs to see brand new bikes.
  7. Blackpole Road: we’d buy groceries at the Sainsbury’s about 10 minutes walk away. My father would push them home in the shopping trolley because we din’t have a car. If my sister and I took it back to the grocery store, we could keep the pound coin in it.
  8. Blakefield Walk: the loft was being converted into a bedroom and I was told that I could have the room. The offer was taken back (very reasonable) and for some reason I was given a PlayStation as consolation (unreasonable). I mostly used it to watch DVDs.
  9. Newport Road: I lived with a school friend for a year, and most of it was spent partying. For some reason, he liked making egg mayo (like, a lot of it), so most of our drunken and/or hangover food was egg mayo sandwiches. The best and the worst, somehow.
  10. Upper Tything: first place of “my own”—a little flat above a charity shop. It was another old, wonky building and the bathroom door was half the width of all the others so they could fit a bath in. Back when it was built, baths were in the living room (if you had one).