Oh, how I love love love my parents' house. Yes, it's in West Michigan where it's currently 12 degrees with a forecast of snow for the next six months, I know. But it's home. My parents bought it from a couple whose daughter is a Broadway star (I inherited her bedroom, which I always thought was cool) - she visited one summer and told me and my sister that she used to throw great parties with the guys from Dukes of Hazzard. Awesome.
The house has this super old intercom system with these weird-looking plastic white phones on the wall of most rooms, and the rec room has a cool old stereo, which we used to turn up while we rollerskated for hours. In the back, there's a pool and a deep ravine filled with trees that runs through the neighborhood and in the summer, it looks like a jungle down there.
Every summer was filled with pool parties and diving board games and popsicles and hot dogs on the grill. And in the winter, we would watch the snow come down, filling up the patio until it covered the diving board.
I used to tell them that they could never sell it. But I think I've made peace with that - maybe it's time for someone else to find out how great it is.
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