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Bye, house. It's just a house after all, and an old one at that, but it's more, too: the place where my brother and I grew up visiting and playing baseball on the lawn; where people got married and parties where wildly thrown; the place to which I brought my 10-day-old baby on her first trip out of San Francisco and where I nursed and napped her in the back room; where I cooked loads of dinners and baked many cakes; where I made my 100+ jars of wedding jam; where g and ts were drunk in front of the fire while a rainstorm pounded down on the roof; where we threw countless sticks for countless dogs; where the bay view served as a reflection of the day and the seasons in sun and fog and wintry wet; where we figured we'd spend even more time in the years ahead. As silly as it sounds, even the trees feel like old friends. But so it goes. I hope the weekenders who've bought it as their occasional 'retreat' experience just a little bit of the life that took place there.

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cucinanicolina by nicole spiridakis © copyright 2021. all rights reserved.
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