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June 7, 2017 On this, our daughter's birthday, I spent the better part of the day in Cassadaga, trimming grapevines, cutting deadwood off the apple tree, and preparing a couple doors for painting. The realtor we hired last week called to let me know that tomorrow he would be showing the house. That call was repeated twice. In less than a week, he has generated more interest in our house than the last realtor did in six months. Showing doesn't mean selling, but the signs are good. I've been repairing the curtains in the TV room at the top of the stairs; not a difficult, but certainly a tedious job. It's late now, nearly 1:00 am. Years ago, we were blessed by the arrival of our daughter. Today, our blessing is anticipatory, hoping we'll get a workable offer from the three prospects. I miss that house. It holds many good memories, and has a classiness about it, with its oak flooring and stair handrails. We put a lot of work into it over the 13 years we lived there. I liked living near the lake. I love that house, but I love Linda more, so when she wanted to move here, I agreed, even though I knew it would be more work. Right now, our Cassadaga property is merely a building where we used to live. It's the people who make a house a home, and Linda and I are here, and here is where our hearts and our home is. I am thankful tonight for two houses; one a former home, and the other our present home. Hopefully, our Cassadaga home will become someone else's home soon.