They were the best of times. The kids grew up here. Swimming, fishing and hikes in the woods. There were mosquito bites, sunburn and skinned knees, but we didn’t mind. We had our own little slice of paradise.
I remember evenings when Gus and Ruth would join us under the big pine. We’d stay up all night, drinking cheap wine and playing cards, the kids all asleep.
Gus passed in ’98 and Ruth in ’09.
Working with the real estate agent to put it on the market, I see ghosts of the past, playing cards through eternity.
Babs would understand.
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