Old homes always create conflict within me. They always seem so sorrowful as the elements and time slowly grind their proud frames out of existence. Probably too much Disney characters in my youth. I wonder what are the “stories they could tell.” They were clearly built with care and craftsmanship. The remains of gardens and flowerbeds gone to seed speak of hobbies with tenderness.
This home was surrounded by the graves of the homes that grew up with it. Gapping basements or cold cellars, scattered planks disappearing under weeds. I could not quite decide if this home was actually abandoned or vaguely inhabited. At any rate, with a little artwork to bring out her character, she will remain preserved here.
