living amongst construction has not been as bad as i thought.
in fact i find it sort of beautiful.
i feel more connected to my house than ever as it’s bones are revealed.
we have been finding old photos and papers in the walls.
and i now more than ever want to do research on the folks that lived here before us.
although we completely gutted this house and made it our own from day one, it was someone else’s before. i forgot all about that until we recently began to peel away layers.
some things i do know or have heard through the grapevine….
our house was built by the local prisoners in 1920.
a horticulturalist who lived here grew many plants under lights in the basement.
the chief of police committed suicide in the basement (hoping this isn’t true)
the last family to live here raised 5 boys in this house.
there is so much i do not know.
and i can’t help but wonder who will live here after us.
i have tucked a few photos and notes in the walls to let them know who we are.