sleep tight

this is the third time i have posted a picture of this house (first time; second time). it's set back a little bit, just down the road from my parents' house, and for as long as i can remember--even when people lived in it--it's been gray and old. it has a long story, but the parts i know are not very interesting to tell. the house was new long before i was born, at a time when small farms were the backbone of the country. the farmer who lived next door to us, who was old even in my earliest memories, was born in there.

somewhere inside it there may still be the bedframes that my brother and i slept on when we shared a bedroom. twin beds with tall metal headboards and footboards. when we got hand-me-down bunkbeds, my father gave those metal beds to the migrant workers who lived in the house.

i would dearly love to explore the house and look for those beds. but the building is rotted through and open to the elements. before long it will be gone the way of the family that built it and the farm that grew around it.