The Auld Hoose

Note:  A friend emailed me and asked where my pictures are taken.  All the pictures I’ve used on this site were taken at my home, or close-by, at the time of the post, or close to it.  So I figured the home-place deserved some love…

It’s tucked-in, dug down and stuck to the foothills of South Carolina like a tar-baby. Sometimes it reminds me of a fairy-cottage in a storybook:

The princess is lost deep in the woods, and she stumbles upon it.  An odd earthly little house with odd earthy little folk puttering about.

This is the house my parents built.  This is the house we’re still building.

And if it looks like it’s crooked, well my dear, that’s because it is.

I’ve never lived anywhere else.

Inside,

There’s antlers and arrowheads and artifacts and animal mounts.

There are marks on a beam to prove I’ve been taller than my sister for some time.

There are long-forgotten hidey-holes where we stashed notes and treasures.

There’s food and harvest everywhere.

And books, books, books.

Outside,

There’s a jungle-garden in all seasons.

There’s a barn full of loud and much-loved animals.

There’s ivy and roses and my little prize grandiflora magnolia.

There’s birds and bugs everywhere.

And trees, trees, trees.

It’s just so pretty sometimes, I can’t stand it.

It often falls apart quicker than we can fix it.

It’s the work of our hands.

This is my home.