Monday, September 24, 2012

Stairs


 The old house cradled three staircases within its century old walls. Two twisted their way from basement to first floor and then on to the second floor. One hid behind the kitchen door - a secret passage to the bedroom with slanted ceiling and lace-covered canopy. The one where rock and roll blared from the radio, teenage feet danced across wooden floors and Ambush perfume scented the air.

The main staircase had its beginning in the foyer. It disappeared from sight around a curve eight stairs up - stairs that received a glorious makeover when my parents restored the old house. The light colored wood gleamed when sunlight peeked through the little window panes on either side of the front door. Colorful stenciled flowers graced the white face of every single step. Steps that echo with the sounds of prom shoes awkwardly clicking on  wood, of white satin wedding shoes softly leaving home, of a little boy who arrived late and brought joy. 

They were also the scene of one of the funniest moments of our childhood. Mom was giving the grand tour to one of her friends. My little sister and I were playing downstairs. Before climbing to the second floor, the thoughtful visitor slipped off her shoes - walking quietly behind Mom in stockinged feet. After leading the way through the bedrooms, Mom graciously stepped aside to let her friend go first. 

She put one stockinged foot on the first stair and slowly descended. All went well until she reached the curve and her feet went out from under her. She landed on her bottom and began bouncing down the steps.

My little sister and I sensed something exciting was afoot when we heard the "OOHH!!  OOHH!!" echoing through the foyer. Mom stood frozen on the top step, hand pressed to her heart. Every time the poor woman's bottom hit a step, Mom would hoot - "OOHH!" - keeping perfect time.

We crouched  in the hallway, laughing so hard we couldn't move or speak.

Fortunately Mom's friend was well padded, and all was well.

I'm linking to Amber's blog. She is an amazing writer and has given us a prompt. This is my humble offering.

Blessings,
Linda

6 comments:

Dolly @Soulstops said...

I can hear you and your sister squealing with laughter...made me chuckle as I read this...thank you, Linda :)

Beth said...

So glad to see the quilt featured header back---it's just the you I've come to know.
I chuckled at this. We had stairs with a landing and I would run down them. My Grandpap Jarvis was sure I would land in a heap at the bottom one day, but I never did. I love a house with stairs and am balking at building one without a staircase. We will just make it wide enough for a stair chair.:>)
Love your story-telling---you're a natural, dear friend.

Nancy said...

What a funny story, and what a grand sounding home.

Sandra Heska King said...

Oh! Oh! Oh! I'm thinking what a delightful, wonderful home and then it all came crashing down--something "afoot."

Now I'm remembering Georgia visitors to this house shortly after we moved in. We gave them our upstairs bedroom and in the morning heard the thud, thud, thud of the woman bottoming down the stairs. So embarrassed! Her and us.

Editor Mo said...

Wow Linda, you captured my heart and had me reminiscing about with such a warm nostalgic feeling of peace that came with those great times of the much forgotten past. And then, suddenly you had me laughing so hard that tears began to flow. You are an awesome writer.

lil red hen said...

You know how much I love descriptive writing; this is perfect! I'll be in touch soon; baby chicks have taken this week away from me.