Don't forget to set the parking brake
Quebec City, QC, July 2011
As we continue to explore the world of triangles - click here for more
- I find myself thinking back to this house that I found while walking alone on a tiny side street in Quebec City. Within the walled city - the only such community in all of North America - there are homes that are hundreds of years old, all lovingly restored, all being used today.
My own home is decidedly younger than this one. It sits on a flat piece of land, and has actual grass around it. I love it because it's my home, my family's home, the center of our world. But standing outside this one house, I thought of how many others have said the same thing about this place in the centuries it's been around. And suddenly I felt a chill wind on this otherwise hot and sunny day. A reminder, perhaps, that we're all just passing through.Your turn:
Who lives here now?
Yes, we all are just passing through.. The American dream was to own one's own home.. then again if we look at it literally- unless we have paid for that house out right, we are just renters paying to a bank that OWNS it.. Sure, we get a Deed of Trust and that is all it is 'in trust' until we pay the full balance off... Glorified renters...oops owners. Having a home does define us, gives us mental security and physical... Its those around us that perfect having that home...
a person who does not mind cleaning windows.
This is such a fine example of stone work, when men were manly and energy was something you had enough of to get through long hard days. When good was truly good, and people really knew each other. I guess I miss my parents, now more than ever.
Looking at this photo, (nicely presented too) I wish I lived here...at least from this view...but this is the kind of house that I could so make a home out of...really...of course it would have to be located fairly near work...or perhaps I could learn to fly a plane?!!!
I used to want to live in an old historic home... until I lived in an area where there were quite a few of them! Visiting friends and spending time in their lovely old houses made me realize that I don't like mice enough (i.e., at all!) and such a house of character often has plenty of places for those mice to enter.
I still love old houses, but I no longer think about living in one.
Carmi, I love old houses like this one. When my son was living in Old Town Alexandria, Virginia, we would take walks -- and lots of photos -- of the vintage town homes and the rumbly brick streets out front. Hmm, I'll have to go through those pics for some triangles!
Post a Comment