the Red House, my family's place in the Wisconsin countryside. Nothing compares to its decrepit majesty, and I love it more than any other place on earth. The story goes that it went fire-engine red during one of the World Wars, when paint was scarce, and at this point it's an icon to the locals; several times I've heard directions explained in relation to our house. Changing the color would be sacrilege.
A river, nine ponds, acres of forest and meadows. Care to canoe?
Everything is wrong with it -- bats in the attic, snakes in the basement and insane Heywoods & Vaughans inbetween -- but I want my children in its tree and my ashes on its meadows. I planted those hydrangeas as a child. By way of an introduction, I thought I'd show you this little bit of me, my childhood in solid form, one of the places I love most.
Next time I'll tell you about one of the fun things to do there: the Amish auction in Coloma! (and puppies.)
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2 comments:
Oh, I LOVED going here with you guys. That's so wonderful that it's still in the family. There's nothing quite like the big red house!
I'd love to see the inside of the big red house.
-Zane of ontario honey
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