The summer I was nine or ten, my father bought a country schoolhouse.  It wasn’t unusual for my dad to purchase oddball things — a defunct ice cream shop or a stash of World War Two helmets — but this was a stretch. I was delighted. I imagined going  there, sitting and reading at an old wooden desk in a Little House on the Prairie one-room frame schoolhouse, pretending to be one of the pigtailed girls who had walked through the woods and meadows to attend classes there.  I begged to see it and finally he agreed to take me. The fact that my dad figured he could eventually turn it into a storage facility for his business should have been my clue — Imagine my disappointment when I saw a huge, hulking two story brick structure in a state of great disrepair, with a variety of fish hooks strewn around the floors inside. It hadn’t been a school in many years and its most recent incarnation had been a fish hook facility of some sort. As is often the case, imagination is sweeter than reality.

Liked this post? Get updates by email...

Enter your email address below to stay up to date with Lightly Tethered.

I agree to have my personal information transfered to MailChimp ( more information )

I will never give away, trade or sell your email address. You can unsubscribe at any time.

Liked this post? Click below to share!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may also like...