About five-thirty this afternoon, the doorbell rang. I wasn't expecting anyone. Who could it be? Thankfully I had not yet donned my winter nightclothes and could answer the door dressed decently. A nice middle aged man stood there, and within the first couple of sentences he said, "I used to live here." He had something to give me, the new owner, extra hooks for the pot rack that he had been holding onto for a while. I asked him to come in. I was thinking of the time when Ned and I stopped by our old house in Spartanburg, and the new owners let us come in and look around. It was so cool to reminisce. "Wow," he first said, as it is a totally different look from before. He started his own reminiscing, and I eventually learned a few things that had perplexed me about the house.
We chatted and realized we had much in common, but mostly we agreed this is a great little home.
No comments:
Post a Comment