I love where I live. This is the house that I grew up in; all my memories are from this place. I stepped out on the porch this morning to let the dog out, the sun was still low in the sky and I could smell the creek...the shed by the creek-bank has sheltered many different things over the years.
It's held hogs/pigs, different kinds of goats, horses, donkeys, it was a garage for go-carts and motorcycles, 3-wheelers and 4-wheelers, it was our club house and our nemesis when time to clean the junk out. All the grandkids have been in that shed to see the new baby animals and to help name them....they've gazed in jealousy at the go-cart that their parents had when they were little, and beg for it to be restored. Right now it holds the old Jeep Cheerokee that mom and dad bought to drive up to their cabin. Every bad flood that we have I hold my breath in hoping that the shed hangs on...there's not much in it right now that's worth anything...except for the memories. I wouldn't want to live anywhere else....I am home.
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