My Dad had built our home… one nail at a time…
( This actually reminds me of our home)
on eight acres of land he had saved for and bought after getting out of the Navy…
It was out in the county… some would say “country”…
A narrow road with few homes… spread far apart…
The land had a creek… woods and a field of shrubs… tall grasses… and wildflowers…
He used every moment he had after a full day working as a wallpaper hanger
… to make his dream come true 
… Making this a home that we… his little family would grow to love and be a welcoming place for all who visited…
There were two homes actually… The first… had a small front door 
for a small little green house… living there until the larger home could be finished…
Both were memorable…
The small door opened into a warm… comfy place… made that way by my Mom and Dad…
You could see the wood/coal-burning stove
as soon as you entered… and
the stairway that made it’s way to the attic… narrow and steep…
I loved playing on the steps… leading me up into the one long room that consisted of a bed, a low ceiling and one big window… It overlooked the weeping willow tree 
and green grass… My sanctuary at times with the Sears Catalog
… as I cut paper dolls from it 
… and pretended to be whoever I wanted…
When the bigger house was finished… a solid.. bigger door was used
… to keep us safe… a screen door attached with it so we could feel a cool breeze on hot summer nights…
there was no air conditioning …
This door … entered the living room of knotty pine 
… beams in the ceiling viewable as you stepped inside… along with the staircase leading up to the second floor… It’s little cubby window… indented inside the staircase wall… that always held Mom’s glass domed anniversary clock 
given to her by Daddy…
I always remember the feeling of peace, love and safety as I walked through that door…
We had three other doors… but, this was the main door right off the big porch that held the swing…
The backdoor 
… was used all of the time… Neighbors… family and friends… knew this led to the dining room with the big table… where all sat for coffee… home cooked meals and a place to talk… Off from it… the kitchen… which always had good smells coming from it…
The door on the actual front of our home that Daddy built was hardly ever used…
because there was no sidewalk leading to it… The door was surrounded with stones Dad had brought up from the creek and a porch led downward… But, for some reason… there were just big trees and green grass for people to walk on…
so they were drawn to the big porch…
I remember sitting in the foyer of this door… a place that allowed me to have a private little space just for me… I would color and play with my paper dolls… with the sun shining in… and be perfectly content… 
I did often wonder about the sidewalk that was never built…
but, never got a clear answer…
Maybe it was on my Dad’s “to do” list that never seemed to get finished…
Our home was sold after my Dad passed and my Mom who lived alone there for many years was unable to be alone…
I’ve visited “once” since …
and I assure you… it’s never the same… walking in those doors…
The people were just as friendly… and welcomed us to look around…
But, our home had become theirs…
and so many changes had been made…
Not, bad changes… but, changes…
a few walls moved…
painted woodwork… no more knotty pine…
stairwell turned completely around…
different decor and colors…
windows removed…
windows added…
I see how the new owners love this home my Dad built 
… but, have now made it their own… and looking in “their door” 
…
I’m sure they have good feelings too…
and that is as it should be!
I’ve reached my 3rd Year Anniversary as a blogger with WordPress… 
“My Kids”…
