Thursday, August 19, 2010

My little house





My grandparents bought a house in New England in the late 50s that sits in a tiny little town in the west. It kinda looks like this one. It's a beautiful white farmhouse with a big yard, and it sits on a cul-de-sac, which I've always thought was safer for little kids. I grew up on one, too, and I love them.

Anyways, my grandparents moved out in the early 2000s to live in a retirement home, and my youngest uncle and his family moved into the house. It was perfect for them - enough bedrooms for all their kids, lots of places to play, and even room for a pool table. They loved and renovated the house, finally getting some damn hot water in the guest shower.

I love that house. So here's my resentment: my aunt and uncle are in financial trouble and took out money against the house. If they loose that house I am going to be so damn sad. It's like a family heirloom to me, and I would move there in a heartbeat just to live in the house. Even though it's drafty and in a place where it snows like mad. I even love visiting it.

So they're going on the list.

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