The town is small and run down in places, but parts of it are just really beautiful. I love this old building, which is not an elementary school anymore, but it's where my grandfather went to elementary school in the 1920's. I wish they still made 'em like this.
The farm where my grandma & her sister grew up:
Hunt country, where my grandfather hunted for the better part (and happiest) of his life. This is near the spot where his ashes are scattered.
(I'm not referring to hunting as in hicks with shotguns, I'm referring to the traditional hunts with hounds and horses and red jackets).
The house my grandma & great aunt live in now is in part a product of my aunt (a designer in her own right) and a fraction of the clutter that these two old ladies' have collected during their lifetimes. I really, really love it. My experiences in upstate New York, from now back as far as I can remember, are probably mostly to blame for me wanting to live in an old farmhouse. How can you not love things that have aged so beautifully? I'd take the scars in the wood over a blank slate any day. I love thinking about all the people that have been there before, have laughed and cried and watched their children grow in these houses.
Here is where my grandmother & great aunt live now:
The cat that makes me want a cat:
And, finally, maybe my favorite photo of the trip. (the trip in its entirely is here: http://flickr.com/photos/clairevb/sets/72157603894726502/)
love, love.
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