Plenty of options, but the choices are no-brainers
I was pounding tomato stakes along the side of the house where the sun shines most of the day. With a five-pound sledge in one hand and a bundle of twine in the other, I rounded the front of the house. As a handsome black Lincoln Continental passed me, I heard a horn honk and turned to see the car braking, putting on its signal as it hugged the curb. I walked over and leaned into the window,. The fellow inside asked if I was “Rob ... or maybe Ron?” I said I was the latter, and he smiled, explaining he was the agent who sold me this house more than 25 years ago. “I can’t believe you’re still here,” he said.
“Why not?” I asked.
“Well, you seemed like a smart guy,” he half-teased. “Thought you’d be moving up and out by now.”
I smiled and said, “My wife and I have been together for 33 years, raised five kids in this house, and are now grandparents of 16. When we started working on the house, all five bedrooms were filled, and now, between friends and family, even though all our kids are grown and on their own, most weekends and all holidays those beds are still filled.”
