With help from several laborers (Juan Garcia and Ernest Martinez, and my cousin Fred Aragon), plus my mom of course, my dad built this house in the years 1959-1961. My parents sold the house to the fellow from Carlson's Heating and Air in 1990, who proceeded to completely transform the place to the point of unrecognizability. There have been several owners since - a true multigenerational project!
These days, they call this place 716 La Entrada Road. When I was young, that system didn't exist, and so the house had no formal designation.
We planted two cottonwood trees that grew very slowly. Both are still here, though! Here's the one at the southeast corner of the house.
Behind some of the artwork, a glimpse at one of the two fireplaces we put in before our abortive San Diego move in 1971.
The space between the house (on the right) and the garage. Our dog Prince dug up a nest of mice here around 1969.
My sister Michelle and her son Aaron look bewildered. Of course, Aaron is too young to remember any of this.
Here's where the French doors used to be, where, on a hot summer's day in 1963, a loose bull entered the house for some shade. I tried to get the bull to charge by making faces at it - someone on the school bus told me this would work - but the bull remained inert and placid. Eventually I alerted my mother, and she chased the bull outside with a broom.
The living room. The bricks in the floor are just the same as sixty years ago! My bed was here. on the left where the paintings now hang. This part of the house was unheated during my years here. When I went to college, the bed was vacant, and thus it came to pass, when my grandmother fell at the age of 88 and needed a place to recover, that she came here. She died in my bed in 1982.
Looking through glass windows here - the part of the house we aren't permitted to visit. This is the southeast corner of the family room, where my two sisters and I had our beds in elementary-school years. Now it's a dining room. Just surreal!
These days, they call this place 716 La Entrada Road. When I was young, that system didn't exist, and so the house had no formal designation.
We planted two cottonwood trees that grew very slowly. Both are still here, though! Here's the one at the southeast corner of the house.
Behind some of the artwork, a glimpse at one of the two fireplaces we put in before our abortive San Diego move in 1971.
The space between the house (on the right) and the garage. Our dog Prince dug up a nest of mice here around 1969.
My sister Michelle and her son Aaron look bewildered. Of course, Aaron is too young to remember any of this.
Here's where the French doors used to be, where, on a hot summer's day in 1963, a loose bull entered the house for some shade. I tried to get the bull to charge by making faces at it - someone on the school bus told me this would work - but the bull remained inert and placid. Eventually I alerted my mother, and she chased the bull outside with a broom.
The living room. The bricks in the floor are just the same as sixty years ago! My bed was here. on the left where the paintings now hang. This part of the house was unheated during my years here. When I went to college, the bed was vacant, and thus it came to pass, when my grandmother fell at the age of 88 and needed a place to recover, that she came here. She died in my bed in 1982.
Looking through glass windows here - the part of the house we aren't permitted to visit. This is the southeast corner of the family room, where my two sisters and I had our beds in elementary-school years. Now it's a dining room. Just surreal!
Thanks for posting, Marc. Why was the house included as part of the tour?
ReplyDeleteBob Reece
This is a mystery. I suppose the current owners are part of the Corrales art community. My dad wanted very much to be an artist, but he was less interested in the community aspects of that. So, it's up to the current generation of homeowners to act on his dreams. Strange as it may seem.
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