The Lion and the Surfboard

6/365

You never know what crazy scenes you'll find around this place I call home. This one is upstairs in the barn, a funhouse of velvet art, surfboards, bat shit and the remains from our final summer barn party. We typically don't clean up from our parties until it's time for the next party. It's Pete's method and I like it.

I'm here alone for the winter. Pete is gone to California to live with Melinda his girlfriend (who came here for the summer). The main part of the farmhouse sits empty, while I occupy my separate little apartment.

Walking around this compound of ours it strikes me just how attached I am to it. This April will be the two year mark. I have now lived here longer than any other place, other then my parents old house in Gorham, and their first house in Standish. It's been awhile, over 10 years, since I've had a home like this.

I have no lease here, but this spring there will be decisions to be made. Stay. Or go?

The football bus. The barn. The muddy driveway. Living alone, but with a good friend just a short walk down the stairs, outside and in the front door. They will all be irreplaceable. And Brooke helped me move in here—before she left. I still walk into the backyard and look up. Whenever I need a visit.

Great song about home. Done better. Check this out. Watch and listen.