In the fall of 2002, we found an 1812 farmhouse in Connecticut. We bought the house, having decided that nothing we found in the inspection would stop us from buying it. And so we bought it, re-lined the flu in the chimney, took down 200 years of wall-paper, painted the place and added on a bit. The house is not longer full of kids who are now out and about and so we might be selling the house. It's very big. And we hang out in roughly two rooms. And someone might be interested in buying it. And the might sign the contract. And then we would sell it and move. And we will miss it and so will the kids.
But we will find another place. And fix the fireplace, and add on a bit. Hopefully not to much. We saw one with a barn which we could covert to a studio. And we'll paint it familiar colors. And move in our stuff. And the kids will probably like and we will to. But I hate change.
No comments:
Post a Comment