A Mans Home

hermit.1 copy

They say a mans home is his castle and a reflection into his soul, I suppose I am following in my father footsteps. He worked for 35 years at the same factory, made a decent living, started out as a stock boy and when he retired he was a metallurgist. Yet..he saved almost every penny. He could have lived anywhere..but chose to buy part of a WWI and WWII training base, a small island off the river, one way on…one way off. He lived there with a few people who also bought into the island.
No one knew it at the time..but..in the Mid 70’s the park district saw the potential of the island and offered to but everyone out…no one moved…So…they convinced the county board to do something that would change life on the island for as long as I can remember. The county would no longer take care of the roads, would no longer give permits to improve your home, would no longer even let folks repair the damage from the floods that happened almost yearly. It was their way of trying to force people off the island so they could come in and buy it off them.
My father..didn’t see it that way…This was his home..his land..so..before the park district could buy folks out when they we’re leaving..my father would offer the owner more. by the time he passed he owned all but a small portion of it. He had made a life there..a life for him..and a wonderful world for me and my siblings to grow up in.
He would repair his house..or those he rented in the dead of night, After working a full 12hr shift. He also had two gardens, almost 3 acres worth that he would work during the day. When it cam time to harvest he would can what he needed for the year and then go to his neighbors and share what he worked so hard on.

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His home was a simple one, run down and full of things a normal person wouldn’t bother keeping.He had just about every bike he had ever bought for us kids..most were sitting outside and weathered..but..it was nice to go outback and see them, inside was the same way..our toy room was always the same..the toys used by me and my siblings..and then his grandchildren old family photos strewn about and on the walls..his chair he had had for all those years in the same corner…it always felt like home..My fathers home and the home I grew up in.
Scene:
dust bunny . maple cottage
TLG – The Silent Tree
[Con.] The Garage Collection – Rat Rod Bike RARE @ The Arcade
“BUR” Pipe Chief
Second Spaces vintage tool cabinet – red
Dutchie Philodendron tall
Dutchie wringer bench
Hideki – Rocking Horse

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