No Place Like Home

Every once in awhile I pick up a book that really hits with a powerful force. This one is called Red House by Sarah Messer and is centered on “being a mostly accurate account of New England’s oldest continuously lived-in house”. It sent me out to the small barn here yesterday to look over the bags of stuff past owners have found on the property over the years. Old nails and pottery shards mostly but also remains of an old shoe and other strange items. I recently added some stuff like an old marble found while digging in the garden. The house only dates from 1845 but I moved here from my home in Scottsdale where my 1972 house was considered ancient. Down the road my sister’s house dates 1750 but that was the second house built on the property. The first was in 1682 and indeed this area is filled with pieces of the past.

While both my sisters have always stayed in the area, I was always off somewhere else. I really feel like I am back where I belong. We bought this house without my wife ever seeing it, she is a trusting woman, and luckily she feels as home here as I do.