December 23rd 2017

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bent
····under the dark of snow—the dreaming
········pines
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The walk over the brook back of the house, and out to the barn.
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A little piece of our house, the original old barn that later became the connector between the original farmhouse, left, and the larger barn, right. The barn later turned into a second house. This is the way Vermont houses grow over a hundred years and more.
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And an abandoned house a little ways south of us. There’s something in me that imagines secretly putting a Christmas tree in the house and lighting it up on Christmas Eve, as if to give the house a little memory of what it once meant to a family.
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And a look through the window into the kitchen. You can see some shelves with bottles still on them.
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357 December 23rd 2017 | bottlecap
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6 responses

  1. How poignant!

    You could not have known when you decided to compress time with your home and other building photos that our ad/consumption driven world would assault (the only word that really fits) your readers attention with a garish oh-so-ironic “steel building clearance” pitch followed by a doubly ironic “dead restaurant” story underscoring how much more rapidly contemporary decay transpires . . .

    Is it just me, the rapidity of my aging spiral, or is the repetitive pattern of my sighing accelerating??

    Like

    • I look at a house like that and my heart breaks a little, imagining how carefully and warmly it was tended in a winter past. Then, builder that I am, I imagine restoring it — where every other carpenter would call it a ‘tear down’. But I’ve seen houses in that condition buttoned up again, one that I used to wander in as a child. The first floor and wholly collapsed into the cellar.

      Like

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