Mouse Concert
An unforgettable experience
One of my most treasured childhood memories comes from a time in the fall when I must have been around seven. Early fall in the Sonoran Desert of those days had a special quality. The skies had a luminous glow to their deep blue depths. A few trees, like our China Berries, began to get yellow tinges to their leaves. The temperature finally cooled enough for a light wrap in the evenings and socks in bed.
My sisters and I each slept in our beds in the old one-room adobe house originally built by Walter Flesh (a haberdasher who stopped in our then small town on his way to San Francisco and could not bring himself to leave). Our bedroom was filled with light during the day from its many windows in the thick raw adobe walls. Mama painted the inside of those walls a lovely sunny yellow and the cheerful color added to the brightness. The wooden floor was painted a dark green and then covered with patterned linoleum. An ancient wooden door opened into the short dark hall heading into the living room with its kitchen alcove, which our parents, Bob and Jan, had added on. They slept there in the living room with its couch pulled out to make their bed.
Our parents had bought an army surplus bunk bed for my younger sister Sara and me. They painted the metal frame beige and gave us turquoise chenille bedspreads. My bed was the top bunk…
