I live in Hershey so we get tourist from all over. I remember seeing your dad’s car dealer logo on cars.
I only moved once with my parents from Lancaster to Hershey. My mother was a clean freak with impeccable taste and their houses were always extremely well taken care of. Sold both privately with multiple offers. My sister now lives in their retirement condo.
I love love my house and I am my parent’s daughter. I love to decorate and take care of my home. My kids are the same way.
I am entranced with the meaning of Homeward. I grew up in a three bedroom sort of Craftsman style home on a farm. After moves over the decades for school/post-doc/work that spanned the Southwest and both coasts, I think there are two factors from my upbringing that affect how I’ve lived since: a tidy, uncluttered interior and a great desire to spend time outdoors. My best childhood memories are roaming around the farm with my Lassie look-alike dog!
I am now raising my own two children in my childhood home - a home that my parents will have owned for 50 years this July! It is a mixture of weird and wonderful that I have this opportunity. We’ve remodeled it heavily in the past few years - changes that 2 out of my 3 siblings love, the remaining sibling thinks nothing in this house should ever be changed! One thing that has stayed the same - the front door is always unlocked and you never know who is going to walk in lol! I love that part and I hope everyone always feels welcome here!
Groovy baby! I too grew up in the 70's. Better yet, I grew up in Alaska in the 70's. Our family home was avocado green on the outside with white trim. The upper floor had green shag carpet and the kitchen had avocado green appliances gold Formica counters and linoleum floors. Our kitchen table was white Formica with yellow metal legs and bright yellow vinyl chairs. This was before my parents decided to "hire" an interior designer in the 80's (which turned out to be just a salesperson who worked in a high-end furniture store. My mom picked out plush beige carpet and the salesperson sold them teal velvet armchairs, beige barrel swivel lounge chairs; we kept the black and white sofa from the 70's. It wasn't my vibe, but I was happy for the upgrade.
The downstairs had been unfinished when my dad bought the house. He slowly built it out, starting with 3 bedrooms (1 for me, 1 for my brother and one for storage). This was because we had a little brother on the way so they needed to make room for the baby. The floors in the downstairs were unfinished concrete but Dad laid down some incredibly thin blueish carpet that always made me feel like we were poor (which we were not). I'm not even convinced it was actually carpet because it was so thin it was worn through in some areas and wasn't even tacked down.
When the family room finally got built out, my mom decided to paint the built-in bookcases bright yellow, installed yellow loop pile carpet and hung red, yellow & orange striped drapes. The 2 sofas were bright orange. I was only about 8 years old but even then, I knew this was a bad idea. She called it her sunshine room. I called it embarrassing. That well might be the reason I became an interior designer.
Nice piece about my generation. I lived in 13 places before I graduated from high school. My father was in the Navy, and my mother, who was a bride at 19, said she "moved for a living." Having just moved myself, I am way more sympathetic, but sad that she has passed. I'd be happy to contribute, but I don't really know how.
My Dad was a well known architect, and my mother was an artist, so I always joked that I never lived in a finished house until I left for college. Something was always being renovated or redesigned. He transformed a small, post war white brick Cape Cod with a bright red dutch front door and dormers into a mid century modern board and batten California style home with Japanese gardens, extensive decking and Velux skylights (a first in sleepy small town Western PA). When I was in college - they moved 300 yards down the street into a home he had designed in the 70's for our neighbors and took about "finishing it," building a Master BR wing and putting in a pool, sauna, etc. It was a great house and they lived there for nearly 30 years.
That 1970s kitchen table brought back so many memories of my childhood (late 70s/early 80/), before my parents put in a glass atrium addition and renovated their adjacent kitchen when I was about ten. My parents renovated exactly once, and still live in the home exactly as it looked when I left for college at age 18. Meanwhile, my husband and I have been renovating room by room for 15 years, our entire children's lives.
I think often about how different my children life is just for that fact, and how it will influence them. Sometimes they come home from school an entire room is a different color from when they left. I hope they find that creative and inspiring, though only time will tell!
I live in the apartment in the UES of New York where I arrived with my parents 80 years ago. It has had a few updates but still is basically more or less the same as in the '40s. My daughter was raised here but married and had 3 daughters in London. Now she wants to be sure she can live back here if she wants to.
I’m so sorry that round dining tables for homes went out of style. There’s a reason that most 10-top banquet tables are round: it engenders conversation between all diners. From family meals to card and board games, as well as homework and school projects, our round dining table was the heart of our home.
When I was about a year old, my parents bought an old farmhouse on a narrow road where one had no street address, just Rural Route 1, Box whatever. My father bought it for the beautiful view of gentle hills to the west. As the family grew (6 kids, in time), my parents added two large wings, with the help of Buck, a moonlighting carpenter who came every Saturday for about a year. They put lots of large windows in the spacious new rooms, and nice hardwood floors throughout, which were soon covered with old, not quite antique, Persian rugs. My mother cleverly designed her kitchen and family room to include a raised counter/ledge above the stove and primary cooking work counter, which created separation but allowed anyone who wanted - we kids stood on chairs - to watch her cook and otherwise keep her company while she prepared dinner. When she started to commute to work full time, when I was about 11 or 12, she turned the weeknight dinner making for the family over to me. I knew what to do.
The old house was drafty, with no central heating; it had ancient plumbing, a septic tank, and water from a well. Every last piece of wooden furniture that didn’t involve a cushion or a mattress, dining chairs included, were diamonds in the rough that my father spotted at estate sales and in second-hand shops “down in the [Shenandoah] valley,” when his work took him that way. He lovingly restored and refinished it all to extraordinary beauty,
At night we fell asleep listening to my father play Mozart, and Chopin, Schubert, and the other Romantics on our grand piano. We had horses and a barn, but no garage, like most of the people out where we lived. It took me about 10 years after buying my first house to stop saying that I had “to go out to the barn” when heading out to the garage.
These many years later, I’m a classical pianist, though I chose not to pursue that as a career. I live in a unique modern design home with big windows which let in lots of light, and hardwood floors and Persian rugs everywhere. My kitchen has a large, asymmetrical island around which 8 or 9 people can comfortably work, or just sit to watch. To leave plenty of room for entertaining in our open floor-plan ground level, my matte blacktop Steinway grand, with precisely the classic lines of its longer concert grand cousins, resides in a separate studio downstairs, which I like. We buy wooden furniture from Thomas Moser as their simple designs, exquisite woods, and hand finishes remind us of my father’s masterful work. I can see the snowcapped Rocky Mountains to the west from my third-floor office. When freshly mown hay nearby perfumes the air early on our cool summer mornings, I tell my friends, “That’s the small of a happy childhood.”
I am at my parents home of 50 years as I type, packing it up to sell.
Every holiday was celebrated at our family home, from the major ones to every birthday and graduation. My mother loved entertaining and hosting and having family all around her. I have the thousands of photos to prove it.
But, more than anything inside these four walls, as lovely as she made the interior and as many sets of china and silver and glassware as she had, my inheritance is her spirit for making everyone feel welcome. And just like my mom, all the holidays are now celebrated at my home.
I live in Hershey so we get tourist from all over. I remember seeing your dad’s car dealer logo on cars.
I only moved once with my parents from Lancaster to Hershey. My mother was a clean freak with impeccable taste and their houses were always extremely well taken care of. Sold both privately with multiple offers. My sister now lives in their retirement condo.
I love love my house and I am my parent’s daughter. I love to decorate and take care of my home. My kids are the same way.
What a great tradition to have threading through your family.
I am entranced with the meaning of Homeward. I grew up in a three bedroom sort of Craftsman style home on a farm. After moves over the decades for school/post-doc/work that spanned the Southwest and both coasts, I think there are two factors from my upbringing that affect how I’ve lived since: a tidy, uncluttered interior and a great desire to spend time outdoors. My best childhood memories are roaming around the farm with my Lassie look-alike dog!
Thanks for joining Homeward. Lots of room to roam. ❤️
I look forward to roaming here with you and other kindred spirits!😊
It’s nice to see you and Mr Latte have gone the distance, lovely!
… and onto a new phase of life together. ❤️
I am now raising my own two children in my childhood home - a home that my parents will have owned for 50 years this July! It is a mixture of weird and wonderful that I have this opportunity. We’ve remodeled it heavily in the past few years - changes that 2 out of my 3 siblings love, the remaining sibling thinks nothing in this house should ever be changed! One thing that has stayed the same - the front door is always unlocked and you never know who is going to walk in lol! I love that part and I hope everyone always feels welcome here!
I think homes need to evolve in order to stay alive. Sounds like you’re keeping it vital. ❤️
Groovy baby! I too grew up in the 70's. Better yet, I grew up in Alaska in the 70's. Our family home was avocado green on the outside with white trim. The upper floor had green shag carpet and the kitchen had avocado green appliances gold Formica counters and linoleum floors. Our kitchen table was white Formica with yellow metal legs and bright yellow vinyl chairs. This was before my parents decided to "hire" an interior designer in the 80's (which turned out to be just a salesperson who worked in a high-end furniture store. My mom picked out plush beige carpet and the salesperson sold them teal velvet armchairs, beige barrel swivel lounge chairs; we kept the black and white sofa from the 70's. It wasn't my vibe, but I was happy for the upgrade.
The downstairs had been unfinished when my dad bought the house. He slowly built it out, starting with 3 bedrooms (1 for me, 1 for my brother and one for storage). This was because we had a little brother on the way so they needed to make room for the baby. The floors in the downstairs were unfinished concrete but Dad laid down some incredibly thin blueish carpet that always made me feel like we were poor (which we were not). I'm not even convinced it was actually carpet because it was so thin it was worn through in some areas and wasn't even tacked down.
When the family room finally got built out, my mom decided to paint the built-in bookcases bright yellow, installed yellow loop pile carpet and hung red, yellow & orange striped drapes. The 2 sofas were bright orange. I was only about 8 years old but even then, I knew this was a bad idea. She called it her sunshine room. I called it embarrassing. That well might be the reason I became an interior designer.
You’re saving the world from sunshine rooms, one house at a time…. Love your story. 🙏🏻❤️
Whenever I get deflated about the cracking asbestos siding and endless projects to tackle, I take solace in our home’s big, heavy, beautiful doors!
Nice piece about my generation. I lived in 13 places before I graduated from high school. My father was in the Navy, and my mother, who was a bride at 19, said she "moved for a living." Having just moved myself, I am way more sympathetic, but sad that she has passed. I'd be happy to contribute, but I don't really know how.
What fun writing, Amanda! I still recommend your The Cook & the Gardener. One of my favorite books.
Congratulations on your big move and evolution 💕
Thank you! The Cook and the Gardener is coming out with a 25th anniversary edition next month — can you believe it?!
My Dad was a well known architect, and my mother was an artist, so I always joked that I never lived in a finished house until I left for college. Something was always being renovated or redesigned. He transformed a small, post war white brick Cape Cod with a bright red dutch front door and dormers into a mid century modern board and batten California style home with Japanese gardens, extensive decking and Velux skylights (a first in sleepy small town Western PA). When I was in college - they moved 300 yards down the street into a home he had designed in the 70's for our neighbors and took about "finishing it," building a Master BR wing and putting in a pool, sauna, etc. It was a great house and they lived there for nearly 30 years.
Congrats on the Substack launch, Amanda!! (I chose the Founding Member option—and hope everyone who is here to “cheer you on” does the same :)
Thanks so much Laurel! You’re the best. ❤️
Love this, Amanda! Can't wait to follow your work here.
Thanks Deb! And hope readers will check out Ladyparts! XxA
That 1970s kitchen table brought back so many memories of my childhood (late 70s/early 80/), before my parents put in a glass atrium addition and renovated their adjacent kitchen when I was about ten. My parents renovated exactly once, and still live in the home exactly as it looked when I left for college at age 18. Meanwhile, my husband and I have been renovating room by room for 15 years, our entire children's lives.
I think often about how different my children life is just for that fact, and how it will influence them. Sometimes they come home from school an entire room is a different color from when they left. I hope they find that creative and inspiring, though only time will tell!
Sounds like it’s been a labor of love!
I live in the apartment in the UES of New York where I arrived with my parents 80 years ago. It has had a few updates but still is basically more or less the same as in the '40s. My daughter was raised here but married and had 3 daughters in London. Now she wants to be sure she can live back here if she wants to.
I’m so sorry that round dining tables for homes went out of style. There’s a reason that most 10-top banquet tables are round: it engenders conversation between all diners. From family meals to card and board games, as well as homework and school projects, our round dining table was the heart of our home.
When I was about a year old, my parents bought an old farmhouse on a narrow road where one had no street address, just Rural Route 1, Box whatever. My father bought it for the beautiful view of gentle hills to the west. As the family grew (6 kids, in time), my parents added two large wings, with the help of Buck, a moonlighting carpenter who came every Saturday for about a year. They put lots of large windows in the spacious new rooms, and nice hardwood floors throughout, which were soon covered with old, not quite antique, Persian rugs. My mother cleverly designed her kitchen and family room to include a raised counter/ledge above the stove and primary cooking work counter, which created separation but allowed anyone who wanted - we kids stood on chairs - to watch her cook and otherwise keep her company while she prepared dinner. When she started to commute to work full time, when I was about 11 or 12, she turned the weeknight dinner making for the family over to me. I knew what to do.
The old house was drafty, with no central heating; it had ancient plumbing, a septic tank, and water from a well. Every last piece of wooden furniture that didn’t involve a cushion or a mattress, dining chairs included, were diamonds in the rough that my father spotted at estate sales and in second-hand shops “down in the [Shenandoah] valley,” when his work took him that way. He lovingly restored and refinished it all to extraordinary beauty,
At night we fell asleep listening to my father play Mozart, and Chopin, Schubert, and the other Romantics on our grand piano. We had horses and a barn, but no garage, like most of the people out where we lived. It took me about 10 years after buying my first house to stop saying that I had “to go out to the barn” when heading out to the garage.
These many years later, I’m a classical pianist, though I chose not to pursue that as a career. I live in a unique modern design home with big windows which let in lots of light, and hardwood floors and Persian rugs everywhere. My kitchen has a large, asymmetrical island around which 8 or 9 people can comfortably work, or just sit to watch. To leave plenty of room for entertaining in our open floor-plan ground level, my matte blacktop Steinway grand, with precisely the classic lines of its longer concert grand cousins, resides in a separate studio downstairs, which I like. We buy wooden furniture from Thomas Moser as their simple designs, exquisite woods, and hand finishes remind us of my father’s masterful work. I can see the snowcapped Rocky Mountains to the west from my third-floor office. When freshly mown hay nearby perfumes the air early on our cool summer mornings, I tell my friends, “That’s the small of a happy childhood.”
I am at my parents home of 50 years as I type, packing it up to sell.
Every holiday was celebrated at our family home, from the major ones to every birthday and graduation. My mother loved entertaining and hosting and having family all around her. I have the thousands of photos to prove it.
But, more than anything inside these four walls, as lovely as she made the interior and as many sets of china and silver and glassware as she had, my inheritance is her spirit for making everyone feel welcome. And just like my mom, all the holidays are now celebrated at my home.
What a lovely takeaway ❤️❤️❤️ Hope the packing goes well.