It was such a beautiful day, the sun was warm, the hills were all autumn-rainbows upon unbelievable carpets of green, all capped underneath a cloudless dome of blue. Every time I go up there, all I think is, "I could live here! I want to live here.." But beautiful landscapes and charming farmhouses aside, there's just not much going on up there. If I had a career writing & illustrating children's stories, maybe. But as a starving architect? No.
And finally, finally, after two hectic life-altering years, we finally planted Dad's headstone in the ground, next to Oma and Opa in the picture-perfect Potter Hollow Cemetery at the base of the mountain upon which our family house sits. Our house... which we are desperately trying to sell, in an unsellable market.