Some nights I think the wind will blow this old farmhouse right to the ground.  With every gust the shutters rattle; windows shiver. There are stress lines in rooms without wallpaper that show the give and take.  The history this home has seen.  Love, worn deep into the banister from hands through the years. Grooves in the wood floor, from the farmers path every morning and evening, over decades.  Love worn right through the couches and most everything in this home.  The door to this home, wide open, for generations. And the night of the wake for our son, ... View Post