Old and a bit care worn was our apartment- such a huge change from the ranch house we called home for so long. I weighed the positives over all we let go for retirement, and Godfrey put my random bits of paper to poem and song. No more nasty slivers from the rough pantry floor, no nettles or blackberry bushes growing round my back door, no plowing the long road to the highway in snow, no more mud season, no more worry over fire or tornado…slowly we adapted to life in the city, and the luggage shop we named for Godfrey. Garnet had his stamps and his geography studies. It was those years that I started quietly to write, we had view of a small park, and oft I watched the tugboats, and lights of the harbor from my window at night. Across the small green space was a low…
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Just a very cool post.
Good morning, House. And good morning to all your Various Parts and Problems. Some of you have been together from the beginning, since this House was built. Some of you have only recently arrived. I’m here to say I’m sorry.
To You, Basement
I’m sorry that every time I go down to you, Basement, I talk about how much I loathe going down to you. How your mustiness repulses me. How I walk with fear, wondering what horror I will discover when I’m down there. Will the cracks in your back wall be wider? Will it have bowed in to the critical one-inch mark? Will the sump pump have broken and flooded the floor, ruining the cardboard boxes full of stuff we never unpacked? I’m sure you were much happier with your previous owners, who had you nicely finished. But don’t blame me for your…
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