Years and years ago, my parents bought a piece of land in West Virginia. My mother had great dreams of building a house there, up on a hill with a nice view of...more land. She put up a gardening shed to keep a lawn mower and some other garden tools. She even considered sleeping in that shed! My mother truly loved gardening. My father? he couldn't care less about the whole idea.
That little one? That is my 2nd son, just turning one that January of 1973. My grandmother had just died in December 1972 and I came back to the US from England with the lad. By December of that year, my father would be dead also.
He wasn't very happy in the cold even being pulled around in the wagon. But he did have his own Aran sweater knit by my mother. It just wasn't enough!
In later years, that piece of property would end up lost in a tax sale as the updates to our many address changes never seemed to get the the tax office. I wonder what became of the property and is there a house there yet? That little boy now lives in sunny, warm Southern California. No need to cry from the cold.
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