By Angela MacDougall
We get people stopping in from time to time, lending to the story of the place we now call home. Whether there’s any truth in them, I can’t say, but they do make for an adventurous tale. From the collected pieces, a glimpse of the past comes to life in my imagination. A long line of extraordinary people stood here before me. The visitors tell the stories as if it were yesterday and refer to the characters as if they knew them personally. “Did you know, the feller that used to live here…..” is a line I often hear. From a crooked jeweler, to a famous seamstress, diamonds in floorboards and pearls stashed in the laundry machine, romance, heartache and famous writers and scholars boarding in the attic, a diversity of people lived here throughout the years. The old coach road can still be clearly seen through the forest today and we keep the attic door where boarders signed their names as a keepsake. It’s very easy to sit under a tree, reminisce on their words and let your imagination take you back.
We get people stopping in from time to time, lending to the story of the place we now call home. Whether there’s any truth in them, I can’t say, but they do make for an adventurous tale. From the collected pieces, a glimpse of the past comes to life in my imagination. A long line of extraordinary people stood here before me. The visitors tell the stories as if it were yesterday and refer to the characters as if they knew them personally. “Did you know, the feller that used to live here…..” is a line I often hear. From a crooked jeweler, to a famous seamstress, diamonds in floorboards and pearls stashed in the laundry machine, romance, heartache and famous writers and scholars boarding in the attic, a diversity of people lived here throughout the years. The old coach road can still be clearly seen through the forest today and we keep the attic door where boarders signed their names as a keepsake. It’s very easy to sit under a tree, reminisce on their words and let your imagination take you back.
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