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She’d load the three of us onto the blanket and drag us all over that house. The slick, smooth surface of the terrazzo just begged for it. If it had a voice, it would have been whispering, "Pssst. You know you wanna. C'mon. Get the blanket." Our favorite ride of all was when she’d go to the end of the long hall and race down to the center of the house, spinning us in a wide, crazy circle in the near-empty living room. Needless to say, we clung to that blanket with white-knuckles. If we relaxed even a little bit, children’s bodies would go flying off and roll into drywall in every direction. No one ever got hurt and no dry wall was ever injured in the process, but I can remember laughing maniacally until I could hardly breathe. Now, that’s a fun day! We’d try to talk her into it every chance we got until the floor was finally carpeted. I’m sure my parents thought it was an improvement, but my cousins and I would have been happy if it had stayed naked terrazzo forever.
I looked into getting terrazzo installed on the first floor of the little house I now live in because I had such wonderful memories of it. I also figured out I was pretty safe as my kids are grown and wouldn’t be begging for the blanket game. I was astounded at the cost. I really don’t think it could have possibly cost twenty to fifty dollars a square foot back in the early 1960s or it would never be lying underneath the carpets of thousands of homes throughout
South Florida. So, alas and alack, I didn’t do it and am living on plain white tile. Something worth saving up for though. Sigh.