More Cowbell
View from our front yard, 1971. The row of trees follows the brook, from which we were often summoned by the cowbell. My mother is aging and not in the best of health. We have sadly come to the place where she can no longer live by herself in the house we grew up in. She needs to downsize to move into a different situation where she can get the assistance she needs to continue to live as independently as possible. Over the course of the last few years -- at her suggestion - we have been preemptively laying claim to the antiques that have been passed down through the family for generations -- in some instances since the 18th century. It's been very civilized -- oldest to youngest and then youngest to oldest. Rockers, marble top tables, paintings, etc. have been divvied up without any conflict. We decided that since there are four of us and four early 19th century samplers, each one of us gets one. The piano was always promised to whoever learned to pla...