Last evening we went out for ice cream. The weather has been delightful, window down driving, warm, humid, almost summer feel. Our House in the Middle of Our Street, by Madness came on the radio as the ride started. Cranked up the music, as the air blew back my hair, I could see the bay in Maine.
When the song was first popular, David and I lived in New Hampshire in a garden apartment. Many garden apartments, built in the seventies I suppose, dotted the land. My brother and his wife's first apartment was a garden style, too, in Fredricksburg, VA. No gardens showed up around these complexes. David and I drove around the area often, listening to the radio, so different than now, as we are old most of the time. Can't hear each other over the music. But twenty nine years ago, we had fun.
We loved the house songs, because our desire was to own a home. This song brought a fun jaunt to the ride. I could see the lobster boats, the sun reflecting off the ocean. We sang together. I wonder at what we were sometimes.
The second year of marriage was hard with David's sub being in dry dock causing long working hours. I worked midnights, full time, my first summer to do that. A large amount of adjusting for a young woman to do. And unlike Connecticut, no trips home for the weekend. I got incredibly homesick, so much that by fall, my head nurse told me to take a break and go home, which I did, the first week of December.
We enjoyed the area and were blessed that summer with the best weather. The TV station reported it as the summer to set records. Tourism is the main business, so locals were ecstatic that year. The ocean only allowed me to get into it up to my ankles, totally freezing, even on July 31st, David's birthday.
A simple song last night brought all those pleasant memories of younger years. Now I'm listening to the other house song-Our House, by Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young. We had two cats, so this one pulled at our hearts more. It also sang of a sharing of a house, not a house of childhood. We planned a life together in those car rides and walks around old forts and hotels, like the imposing white prison on the base's island and Wentworth Hotel, abandoned on Newcastle island. Every sight took my breath away. I love the coast of Maine and New Hampshire. I loved more seeing the scenery with the love of my life and sharing a song with him. Oh, to do that again.