The House On The Hill (AKA I'm Bad At Titles)

As many of you who don’t know us well have guessed, there are five Noseworthy children. That’s five children, with a mere six years between the oldest and the youngest. We’ve basically lived in the same house for most of our lives, save for a house on Raleigh Street, I believe. It started out as a three-bedroom house, and as the family grew, well, the house didn’t. At first, it didn’t, anyway. For a while there, Bob and Geoff shared a room, and so did the three girls. We had an unfinished basement, which was the style at the time, not unlike wearing an onion on your belt. You can imagine the arguments, I suppose, regarding space, clothes, toys, etc.

After a while, Dad corralled the relatives (read: free labour) and they worked on building up the basement. They added two bedrooms down there, as well as a family room. Downstairs was to be Bob and Geoff’s domain, whereas Lauren, Allyson and I got to stay upstairs. Being the oldest girl, I got my own room. Coming first does have its privileges sometimes. We were more spread out, which may or may not have led to fewer arguments. I think that question is best answered by Mom, as I seem to have blocked all arguments from that time from my memory.

Oh, and the most important fact about the Noseworthy house? There was, and still is, ONE BATHROOM. Seven people, all trying to get ready for school and work in the morning...I’ll just let you imagine the chaos that ensued. I think ours is the only house where you have to make the rounds asking if anyone has to use the bathroom before you can get a shower.

There is a point to all of this, I swear.

When I moved to Ottawa, I moved into a house downtown, owned by the House Nazi. Bob will chuckle at that. It was a shared house, so there were usually three strangers living with me at any given time. It was mostly students here for co-op or work terms, so they were in and out every few months. But, I was still in a full house where you had to alert the roomies if you wanted to take a shower, do laundry, have friends over. From there, I went to another house, close to the university, to live with friends from back home. I believe the highest total of roommates I had there was four. That’s four plus me. That place was another one where you had to fight for space in the fridge, on the couch, in the bathroom. It wasn’t all bad, in fact there were some really good times in that house, but I just could not get away from the “full house” syndrome.

After that, though, I got my own place, and have lived on my own ever since. Just imagine the freedom. I could watch what I wanted, use the bathroom when I actually had to, instead of waiting with crossed knees in the hallway. I could sing at the top of my lungs, which I often did. My neighbours may not have appreciated that, but what the heck. I could watch Star Wars every night if I wanted to! Sometimes, I did.

You would not believe the marathon showers I take. It’s heaven. Pruny hands be damned!

While living on one’s own does have its advantages, like walking around in less than a full outfit, eating out of containers rather than using dishes, again with the singing and strumming my guitar, it does also lend itself to loneliness sometimes. I must say, I do enjoy stretching out on the couch and watching Heroes twice in a row (as I’m doing now), it is nice to have people around to chat to, someone to cook dinner with or for, as I always make way too much food. The dog is great to have around, and I talk to her plenty, but she doesn’t really talk back. If she does, I suppose that means dementia’s finally set in, and it’s off to the Royal Ottawa with me. But I am missing that interaction with people.

Now, before you start the “Aww Sandi” comments, this is actually my way of saying maybe it wasn’t so bad being cramped into a room with my two sisters, or being forced to watch Coronation Street instead of The Simpsons. Lauren and Allyson will still complain about having to watch the World Junior Hockey tournament over Christmas, but I actually don’t mind arguing with them about it now. It’s a short argument anyway, because Dad wants to watch it, and Dad rules. Thankfully.

When we go home now, it’s still a bit cramped, especially since we’re not kids anymore and we take up more room, but it’s nice to have a full house again. Mom and Dad may disagree after a few days with all of us there, but I actually like going to bed knowing that everyone is close by.

There’s still no cure for only having one bathroom, however.