Skip to main content

Home, 257 Miles Away

Go ahead, ask: Where are these pictures from and why are they important? Easy. My parents' new house and...because they are of my parents' new house. OK, easy enough for me, but you're still wondering why they are important to you or, at least, why you should bother wasting your time looking at them. The only answer I have is because we are all products of environment, whether it's our house or our hometown.

There are three things that have undoubtedly shaped me: family, Arkansas, and "home." The first is easy enough to understand. When I say Arkansas, I am specifically referring to Paragould, Arkansas, and more generally to the South. However, in this blog I'd like to talk about "home," in which case I am referring both to a physical dwelling and the environment I grew up in.

The pictures featured below are taken from my parents' sixth new house, the first since I moved out a few years ago (of course, I only lived in the fifth house a few months before moving to Arkadelphia). Nevertheless, the majority of my life has been spent moving and building -- between new houses there were rent houses. Though I don't fully understand its impact, the process of building a new house and moving has always been a part of my life. However, despite this continual movement, I never felt alienated from a house.

Someday I hope to collect pictures of all the houses I've lived in, especially those my parents built. The point of this blog is still largely unclear, I know; however, it serves as a means of documenting a brief time period of my life, if nothing else.




Yes, I still have a room at my parents' house. Maybe it's because they miss me so much, or because they love me the most, or because I'm the youngest (yup, I'm the "baby"), but it's probably because I'm the only child who lives in an apartment four hours away. Yeah, that's it. I love the modern colors in this room.



There wasn't a good angle to take a picture of the living room, but this will have to work. My dad hates the red chairs flanking the fireplace -- he thinks the furniture is too modern. Also, my mom added the iron on top of the pictures. I'm undecided on both.



My nieces' room. Yeah, I know what you're thinking, this is really my room and I just don't want to admit it. However, despite the pretty red bedroom suit, that bed is as hard as a frozen mud. The miniature table with the tea set on the left side of the bed adds a nice touch to the room.



My parents always made us eat at the table for every meal, but the dining room has always seemed pointless to me. At least there isn't a formal dining room as well in this house. If the walls are clear enough in the picture, note the beautiful faux finish my mom and brother added to the paint (unfortunately, I think the dining room is the only room I didn't paint).



My mom's favorite feature of the house. Barry Shelton in Paragould built it -- I'm pretty sure he's going to feature it in Premeire Magazine. I have to admit, it looks much better than the white or brick mantles they've had in the past. I've never been a fan of cherry wood, but I think it's growing on me.



Always the most important room in any house, the kitchen. I really like the island that doubles as a bar; it beats the bar table my parents had in their last house.



My parents built their "final house" beside my grandparents' house (above). Yes, the muddy spot between the houses is reserved for the garden.



Horses and saw horses. The view is definitely a plus.

Comments

cob said…
Campin beside the ponds :P
Jacob Cooper said…
Yeah, we need to go camping sometime again soon.
Anonymous said…
Hey your website is cool
Check at that cool emo song:
http://tinyurl.com/8b9p65
Ron Cooper said…
It's important to stay connected to family and you've done that here. I know your parents must be proud of their writer-son!

http://inspiredbyron.blogspot.com/

Popular posts from this blog

A Progress Report for January

Sometimes I sit around writing my own obituary in my head. It’s not that I plan on dying, or that I’m that old, but I just wonder what my legacy would be. If my family had to sum up my life to this point, I’m afraid there wouldn’t be a lot to say. Let’s highlight my first twenty-six years. I hit a game-winning shot against Nettleton—truly the type of shot you dream about as a kid shooting hoops in the driveway—to help Paragould High School make it to the state tournament in 2004 (this is the highlight of my short and mostly uneventful athletic career); I won the Citizenship Award my senior year, which my mother says is way more important than any academic or athletic award; I wrote for the Paragould Daily Press for four years, and I still have people say they miss my column (but you guys can quit lying to me already); I married a girl who is way more intelligent and athletic than I ever dreamed of being; I graduated from college, twice; and I have an adorable puppy that takes up all

The Paragould Daily Press: Is Paid Content the Beginning of the End?

Every few days I read the Paragould Daily Press , my hometown newspaper—a newspaper I worked at as a sports writer for four years—online. I’m never looking for anything in particular. It’s just part of my routine: every morning I skim national, state, and local news for a few minutes. However, when I visited the PDP today, a few things were different. First, the website had been redesigned (and not in a good way—it takes talent to clutter what little content the PDP creates). More importantly, you now have to buy a subscription to read the paper online. This isn’t about having to pay for content (I’m sure the PDP has heard plenty of negative feedback from its online readers already); I understand what the PDP is attempting to accomplish with this move. The move to paid content was inevitable (I remember sitting in a staff meeting and discussing this very matter over five years ago when I was writing for the newspaper), as it will be and has been for much larger publications. Ne

Joe the Plumber

( Caption: So Samuel Joseph Wurzelbacher, better known as "Joe the Plumber", can't win an election for you. But I bet he can plunge your toliet, right?) A lot of responsibility comes with marriage, such as taking care of your wife when she’s sick like mine is right now. However, to me that’s an easy one. I can make chicken noodle soup, hot chocolate, and Jell-O. The challenging part of being married, for me, is the Tim-Allen home improvement gig. Growing up, my dad took care of all those things: changing the oil in the vehicles, patching holes in the wall, replacing chipped tiles, repairing damaged furniture, and unclogging toilets and sinks. To this day there isn’t a problem that my dad can’t solve. It’s his calling. A fixing-up vision I didn’t inherit. Last week, the toilet in our apartment started acting up, such as not flushing with full velocity and taking a minute to drain and refill. Eventually, it stopped working at all. Oh, if there isn’t anything more inhumane t