My father named our house Ivy
Abbey. It was originally shaped like a cross but as the family grew so
did the house and any semblance of an abbey disappeared. The ivy part,
however, persisted.
And speaking of my family growing, one day Uncle Edmund Sears came
to call and saw my father on the roof near a chimney.
"What are you doing up there
?" he called.
"Driving away the stork," my father replied.
We lived at the corner of Highland Street and Love Lane. Love Lane
was sometimes known as Elm Street and there was always controversy as to
which was the proper name, my father favoring the former. From time to
time an Elm Street sign would be put at the intersection and a few days
later it could be found tucked above the water pipes in our cellar. At
one time we had three of these signs that my father had ripped off. Many
years later the town was troubled with Love Lane signs being stolen by
young people, which is very understandable, and one |