Even though the house was thoroughly swept clean by the former owner’s daughters, there is evidence of the family story everywhere. It’s a reminder to me that one day, whatever mark I make may be erased by another’s hand. But for now I can enjoy finding the clues of past lives and planning how I will live here.
Everything from the wood stove, to the dainty light fixtures, to the mural of a sunny day by the lake speaks of another family’s daily life.
As for the hefty beds, my hope is to find someone who can use them, but that’s not as easy as you’d think. I tried the refugee resettlement program, but their answering machine said they did not want anything at this time. My challenge will be to get them out of the way before construction begins.