One of the places on Earth that I felt about most fondly was the house placed at 23 Dudley Avenue. The address still exists, and you can find it right now if you wanted, but know that the house there now has nothing to do with me. Our old house wasn’t two-storied, nor was it so boxy and sleek. Instead, it was amusingly “L” shaped, and dressed in soft, cheerful yellow panelling.
It was nearly the end of 2009’s Winter when my family and I started living in that yellow house. Especially for me, this was very exciting. We’d only just come from somewhere a couple of flights away, and for the first time in a while, we stayed at a house that was ours – as in “just for us” – meaning we were relieved of the concern of having anyone else around.