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My last photography assignment involved taking a photograph of something that is "dear to me" and writing a prose to go along with it. I racked my brain trying to come up with something to shoot: Kirby? Too obvious. My Mother? It would be like pulling teeth to get her to pose. My hands? Too deep. Ramona? Love her, but meh. Two days before the assignment was due, it hit me like a bolt of lightning, so I dragged Kirb out to the west end on a chilly spring day to get the shot...

I grew up in Etobicoke, Ontario. In fact, while my Mother was in the hospital awaiting my arrival, my Father was busy moving all their belongings in to the house that I would live in for the next 19 years. It was a lovely place to grow up; the house sat at the very end of a cul-de-sac, and the backyard looked out on to an apple orchard that seemed to go on forever.

When I was 4, the city decided to move the Shaver House from its original location (on the corner of the West Mall and Burnhamthorpe) over to a spot in the apple orchard: http://www.applewoodshaverhouse.org/ I vaguely remember playing with my Brother in the piles of dirt that the house would eventually rest on, and the excitement in the community when they loaded it on to a big truck and drove it down the street to its new location. I had my very first "real" kiss on this front porch with Stevan Marcovic (a boy in middle school who was notorious for being every girls first "real" kiss.)

I could see this tree outside my bedroom window. Its branches were perfect for hiding in when I played hide and seek with the neighbourhood kids. I remember sitting up there watching them all running around searching for me - I never let them in on my perfect spot. Of course, it helped when it was covered with leaves. I was disappointed to go back and find the middle completely rotted out - I'd be surprised if its still there the next time I am.

From Kindrgarten to Grade 5 I went to Broadacres Public School (except for that time when I told Mom that I wanted to transfer to Millwood - I spent a mere 5 minutes there before I begged and pleaded her to let me go back to Broadacres. She let me go back that very same day and Robbie Stephenson had already taken my desk right beside the teacher... grrrr... ) I used to tag along with my Brother and his friends when they'd sneak on to the school roof on weekends. It was on this very roof that I had my first cigarette - rather, a colt's mini-cigar with a rum flavoured tip.

Recess was always a tough one for me. I wasn't very sporty, and didn't like tether ball; I hated the thought of that ball flying directly towards my head and me having to raise my hands to defend myself. I much preferred trading stickers off in the corner. My favourites were scratch and sniff's. I had a thing for the skunk one.

OK, I wasn't terribly IN TO hopscotch, but I couldn't resist taking a picture; I swear they haven't repainted it since 1985 and it seemed rather eerie to me... But that could've been the cloudy day and the fact that my shoes were soaked right through.

The door to my first kindergarten class... Down by the bay - where the watermelons grow - back to my home - I dare not go - for if I do - my mother would say, "did you ever see a whale with a polka-dot tail?" Down by the bay...

The view from the baseball diamond. The slide didn't used to be there - it was in-between the swings. There's the Shaver House and the monstrosity behind it is a seniors home they built a few years back. That used to be a parking lot - ah, the good old days. I went out with Wade Dearmer for a week in middle school. He carved, "Wade + Kate" into the baseball equipment storage box, but they've long since been replaced with metal containers.

Our last stop was the cul-de-sac. The new owners of my house were standing in the driveway working on their car - A Father/Son duo that made me think back to the days when my Brother would shadow my Father in everything he did. I wanted to approach them, but Kirby begged me not to; he was afraid that I'd introduce myself and they'd start listing off a million things that are wrong with the house. I looked at him like he was crazy, but when I told the story to Maya the next day, she told me that exact thing happened to someone she knew!

The funny thing? It didn't feel weird to see strangers standing in my driveway. It didn't feel weird to see new curtains in the windows, and other kid's toys in the backyard. In fact, I didn't feel any sort of real emotional attachment to the house at all. It could've been any other house, in any other neighbourhood. I suppose that my memories are just that, my memories.... they're in my head and in my heart and in the surrounding landscape, not in the physical structure that stands there today.

The bolt of lightening? My childhood memories.

xo K