Our first home was by a railroad track and very small, only a living room, bedroom, kitchen, and a bathroom so tiny the shower stuck out into the bedroom and you practically had to back into it if you wanted to use the facilities. I loved it there. Of course we only had one child then and she was so small I could contain her in very small spaces. The train would go past about noon and midnight and it was so relaxing to hear it rolling along and the gentle whistle blow as it crossed the intersection. Okay, so it was nice for a day or two then it became a royal pain. The clack of the wheels nearly drove me out of my mind. The dishes in the metal cupboards rattled and sometimes came close to shaking themselves out off the shelves. Sometimes the train was so long it held up traffic in front of the house and the horns would start to blow and shouts could be heard from angry drivers anxious to get where they were going.
The house served us well for a short time - until we found out there would be two little ones under foot and we decided we had to move on. Besides its a little hard to potty train children when you both can't fit in the bathroom at the same time.
Many houses have come and gone since those early days but none has drawn us as close as the little bungalow by the tracks. Of course, had we stayed there I am sure we would not have the family we do today - one of us would have strangled the other.