It is not difficult

to grow fond of this small/odd/old house especially when one has come to know those who also herein dwelled. Lois and Bill (only Lois now) brought a young family installed two woodstoves stored canoes for hire under the living room. Their girls, Dorothy and Betty (grandmothers themselves), recall opening a stove door for enough glow to play a silent game by after having been long since tucked into bed. Bill built them all a house two doors down on the other side of grandpa's store and this house had other sojourners before Verne moved his family in. Verne wanted no part of chopping wood so the chimneys were taken down the house made cozy with blown-in fiber glass all the open places sided in. His wife favored for her kitchen these sequent colors: dull green/subtle turquoise/shocking pink/bright yellow. (The peeling walls made a fine abstract display for us.) When Verne left the house must have been desolate. Would anyone take such care again? We had one chimney restored so we feel the house forgives us our city ways lacking rural know-how to fix a crumbling cellar door. We sigh at all the things an old house needs to keep it going but it isn't difficult to call it home.

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