just back from a visit to baltimore. usually when i go home, i just visit
with my mom, but this trip was more comprehensive. i visited with
each of my brothers and their families,

plus, a childhood friend and i walked
around the neighborhood where we grew up.

this is the house where my childhood unfolded. when we lived there,
it was covered with classic baltimore formstone, so it feels like it’s lost
its soft edges, but the memories flood back just the same…
…there was the summer my little brother and i were condemned to sitting
on that step on the right, (under the awning that wasn’t there) after a
minor foray into arson.
…and the summer that no one in the neigborhood ate crabs, after the
drowning (and delayed retrieval of the body) of baby vincent. (a story
for another day.)
…there were the crimes, both petty and awful, committed
by our neighbors on all sides – the broken windows, the glue-huffing,
the murder (with a brick, of all things baltimore-specific.)

there were also wonderful city-kid memories…

… climbing quick-like-spiders up alley walls to hide during a game
of tin can alley.
…drinking orange fountain soda and eating powdererd sugar
donuts while sitting on the curb in the picture.
…all the kids in the neighborhood painting my dad’s old
panel truck green – with brushes and rollers – while it was
parked just in front of that tree.
…sneaking into this lot to climb on that roof to watch fireworks on the 4th:

i feel like i’ve just eaten a madeleine….