The house I grew up in and I are disintegrating at about the same rate. Actually the old house may be even more wrecked than me but its dilapidation is far more interesting to behold.
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We weren’t well off enough to have either a parlor or a living room; instead we had the ‘front room.’
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Looking into what was my bedroom. That was my perfect introvert’s sanctuary…no brothers allowed.
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It is sad to see the “home place” fall into ruin. The home place of my paternal grandparents was sold and eventually they burned it down. The house I grew up in Bridgeville is now under the parking lot of a Dollar Store, and my Mother’s home in Pot Nets was torn down and replaced with a house that is about the size of the Queen Mary. Time indeed does march on.
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