a.k.a. Home is Where the Politically Incorrect Juice Glasses Are
1. The Setting: I've been coming to this cottage in Nags Head, North Carolina ever since I can remember. That photo is from 1982 (I was 8; my sister was 6), taken in the kitchen here, and nothing has changed. Well, except for the circumference of my thighs. We must have been playing Housewife. How very quaint. The cottage is carpeted in threadbare orange-and-yellow 70's dreamsicle and decorated with the most delicious mix of my Granny's beach finds (that woman could arrange a bucketfull of crushed beer cans into something beautiful, I tell you), cross stitch projects completed by various family members (including one very complex fish I stitched before I discovered knitting and never looked back), and kitchsy weirdness. Unfortunately, due to various factors including the fact that the Veteran's Administration gives people like my Pop, who served four and a half years in the jungles of New Guinea, the runaround, we might not hold onto the cottage forever. And so I wanted to photograph a few of the things that will always make this the most special place in the world to me, like the HLR sign- my Pop's initials- that has always decorated the front of the house until it fell recently. Two of Pop's names are the Biscuit's.
2. The Details: Some thoughts on store-bought kitsch: It may be initially very attractive, all that tiki stuff and the juice glasses with winking 50's housefraus painted on, but nothing beats the real thing. Those glasses above celebrate Davy Crockett, and they've been a confusing and vibrant part of my summer history since I can remember. One depicts Davy, "Hero of the Alamo," staving in the head of a Mexican soldier with his rifle butt. The other celebrates Crockett, "Indian Fighter," standing next to a huddled bunch of peaceful-looking natives smoking pipes and wrapped in blankets, which are probably smallpox-laced. The other glass that's still here depicts Foghorn Leghorn saving Henrietta's egg from the clutches of the Chicken Hawk. Some death with your breakfast?
3. The Lesson: I wonder what will say home to my boys? I wonder if we'll be here together in years to come, whether I'll be able to give them anything near what I've been given by my parents and grandparents in this special place. The couch is scratchy, and there are roaches. The shower leaks, and a bare foot that touches the front deck is just a-screamin' for a splinter. But there is no place on this Earth that I'd rather be. So maybe I don't have to work so hard to make everything bright and safe and clean and edifying. Because home just seems to be where the memories (be they ever so splintery) are.
New FO details in Knits '07!
So much better, really, than those pasteboard McMansions that pass for beach houses now. I knew a place like yours, at Myrtle Beach: it belonged to one of my best friends' grandparents, and Hugo blew it away just weeks before her bridesmaids were going to stay there for her wedding weekend. Hoping your house stays where it belongs - on the sand, and in your family.
Posted by: Kelly | June 22, 2007 at 06:36 PM
I'm going to need to know the details of that placket pullover. I tried to start one about a month ago and had issues...
Posted by: Stacey | June 22, 2007 at 06:41 PM
reminds me of memories of beach cottages i grew up going to. when we were really little we went to my great uncle's cottage in nags head. it still belongs to various members of the family and my sister and i stayed there for beach week after college graduation. it was still the same nonairconditioned, little nothing cottage and it wasn't very close to where all my friends were staying, but i loved being there because of all the memories it brought back. as we got older we started going to long beach, nc where my grandmother rented a cottage for three weeks every summer. each week, different parts of the family would go and stay with her. for most of our childhood, we stayed at a little cottage called the wicker basket. it had the lovely wood paneled walls and snails in the outdoor shower, but we loved it. it was full of memories and family and fun. we still go to long beach every summer for a week for a family reunion and although we don't stay at the wicker basket, we still rent a dumpy little cottage with wood paneling and cheap bedspreads and plastic-framed shell prints on the wall. we are still making memories full of family and fun. it's so cool for my little man to be a part of it now. my only regret is that our new cottage doesn't have a great outdoor shower complete with snails. maybe we'll find another one of those soon. happy beaching and memory-making!
Posted by: Haley | June 22, 2007 at 07:30 PM
i just got back from a vacation in avon - it's so beautiful in that area and i do hope you can hang on to the cottage!
Posted by: Joy Rogers | June 23, 2007 at 09:54 AM
interesting + funny + heartwarming.
Posted by: cristina - string*THEORY | June 23, 2007 at 10:55 AM
I hope you will be able to save your cabin. It's so precious to have shared family spaces like yours.
"Some death with your breakfast?" LOL
My grandparents home held some truly racist knick knacks of the Mammy/Sambo type - amazing how things can change in a relatively short amount of time.
I am with you on lowering our modern day emphasis on antiseptic/bacterial immaculate homes. Homes should be places where people (especially children) are welcome to do the business of living.
Enjoy the rest of your trip.
Posted by: Miss Scarlett | June 23, 2007 at 01:28 PM
we had a cabin that we visited every year when we were kids. when my oldest was born i went CRAZY mopping the place so she wouldn't get dirty knees and laying down blankets on the hot deck so that she wouldn't get splinters...thank god that by the end of the trip i relaxed and let her have fun, get dirty and splintered and make those wonderful memories. someone must've given me a drink.....
hope all goes well with your cabin...
Posted by: victoria | June 23, 2007 at 02:22 PM
I'm really really tired. Adrenaline receding and all that. SAVE THE CABIN! is my rallying cry. I hope a rallying cry helps.
xo
Posted by: Daphne | June 24, 2007 at 12:28 AM
I'm really really tired. Adrenaline receding and all that. SAVE THE CABIN! is my rallying cry. I hope a rallying cry helps.
xo
Posted by: Daphne | June 24, 2007 at 12:28 AM
"Some death with your breakfast?" = coffee snorted out my nose!
i hope you can keep your cabin... fond childhood memories are precious
Posted by: brenda in toronto | June 25, 2007 at 07:36 AM
Save the cabin! Sounds like a wonderful place :) The sweater is adorable!
Posted by: Carol | June 25, 2007 at 10:57 AM
oh my, the cabin MUST STAY. I'm witnessing those memories taking root in my girls' growing minds and it's wonderful to realize just what is taking place, and what we as parents are giving them.
Posted by: Aura | June 25, 2007 at 12:14 PM
Ok, that "aka" has to be the best summing-up of a post EVER.
I really hope you can hold on to your beach house, but if not, just remember that whatever memories you make with your little ones will be just as firmly part of that-which-has-always-been for them as that cabin is for you.
Posted by: Stella | June 25, 2007 at 01:16 PM
These posts make me miss the Outer Banks so much. I missed my annual family vacation there for the first year last summer, but I'll be able to make it this summer! I just have to wait until August.
Posted by: Christy / Not Hip | June 27, 2007 at 09:05 PM
Ah, for the days of playing peacefully on the beach and going back to a dark, ancient and a little decrepit cabin to eat and sleep in blissful ignorance of cleanliness. We didn't have jellies to worry about, but the leeches were vile enough and so was pouring salt on them to get them off. Ouch!
I hope you get to keep the cabin and take the children out every year until they are old enough to take their children.
Posted by: Dorothy B | June 28, 2007 at 12:31 PM
Beautiful post.
Posted by: nova | July 04, 2007 at 03:52 PM