I love old houses. I love the stories they tell. I would love to hear the stories they could tell if walls could talk. They make me think of another time. A time when life was different. A time when people were different, yet much the same. I see old houses like this one and I want to hear the history behind it. How Grandpa built it from the ground up and Grandma refused to marry him until it was finished and how they raised 17 kids in two bedrooms and no indoor bathroom. How at christmas friends and neighbors would stop by and one of the children would play the piano and they would all have a sing along. And the struggles they had there, and the good times they had there. and how it was one a loved place. I want to hear all those things. I want to stop by the side of the road when I see these old empty houses. I want to just be near it and hear the house call out for love and how it would be a good little house if someone would just fix it up. I love old houses. I love how they represent another time and place that is no more. It is sad that when times change these lovely old buildings are left behind after many years of service. I am all in favor of fixing and restoring old houses instead of building new ones. I love when old is new again.