There was a piano and an organ that squeaked with a sound like a dog whining, but nice.
The kitchen counter had a big leaf worked with a piano hinge and loads of crooked shelves and jars.
There was a lot of inspiration there that I hope to take back to my own place.
The man who made it lives in a nursing home now. With no children there’s nobody to take over the place. He still plans to move back some day,
but he won’t.
Like my grandfather’s mausoleum, we often plan for lofty futures that have no place in reality. But I gotta say, I’d really like it if a few generations of mine got to enjoy and add on to this home project of mine.
As my folks grow older I hope they choose to throw in with us, too. They’re such exceptional people capable of making such beauty in space. For them to build that at arms length feels like a waste when we could be making something together. 15 acres is plenty of room.
Our society is obsessed with the liquification of value. Liquidity’s nice. It’s helpful, it’s easy. But I’d much rather have my moms well loved kitchen next door than any amount of money.