My mom texted me this pic on Christmas this year. I don't think I've seen it before. I said "Dang, I was cute" and she said "And you still are"
This looks like the little green house on the east side. I have a number of distinct memories there. One of climbing down into the crawlspace for tie-wraps for my dad. Another of getting my boots stuck in the deep snow in the back yard. One of playing with plastic horses in the lush brown carpet. They always talk about this house fondly, even though something terrible happened next door.
After that we moved to the Valley. I remember the first drive, the glittering lights of the city disappearing down Knik Arm, and pitch blackness, and pulling in to the subdivision. I could remember our phone number because my dad picked it to match our ages: XXX-0406.