I spent the early part of my childhood in Phoenix, AZ until my family moved to California, where I was actually born. It was a memorable time.
I remember our house. A small white house with green window flaps. There was a big front yard with two wire fences. The backyard was enormous but as I grew older, it got smaller. There was a garage in the backyard with a big tree. My dad built my brother and I a tree house. He also fixed up an old swing set he had found and it became my number one source of entertainment. I could swing all day. I would invite my neighbors and we would spend all day in the backyard.
I lived in a very peaceful neighborhood, on Turney Avenue. My mom and I would walk our dog every afternoon. The streets were always quiet, and the only noise I remember was the trees blowing in the wind. It’s difficult to describe in words how much fun I had with the kids in the neighborhood. Most entertainment was built on imagination. Boredom was not an option, or may have fueled the creative games we played. Just crawling under the bushes in the alleys could transport us into a new world. Having so many friends there was my favorite part about the city.
Every weekend my family and I would visit the shopping malls in Scottsdale. The car ride was my favorite part. The huge homes, or more like estates, in the mountains looked like princess castles or places like Chandler Mall had water fountain shows every Sunday night. Those malls sparked my love of shopping at a very young age.
Life in Phoenix was very pleasant. It was filled with friends, family and good memories. We tried to do everything that there was to do in Arizona: camping trips, going to the Grand Canyon, skiing in cities like Flagstaff. We traveled to Sedona, where the famous Red Rocks, a city known for its mystical nature. We mini-golfed, swam, played tennis, hiked, and went to the river.
I am nostalgic thinking about Phoenix because I left so many good memories behind. It was my first home, and it was a time when life was perfect.