Thoughts at 51: The Gardiner House
I have had much to ponder about this past month, my 51st birthday month. This was a month which I was dreading all year long. It had nothing to do with the crazy Covid year. I quite simply was not looking forward to turning "51". In retrospect, I was OK turning 30, 40, or 50. It was the year after which I had issues with. I think it's because it hit me that I was now in a new decade. I was 31, 41, or this year as the case may be, 51. It hits you and you realize, whelp ... there's no turning back now! Another decade has sprung upon me! I was up in the new home in Maine this weekend, the Gardiner House as we call it. Built by Mr. Gardiner way back when in the late 1800s, it stands proudly with the test of time as well as a throwback to a far simpler time. it is not an overtly Victorian gingerbread but just a solid large farmhouse with an attached barn just a block from the town square. There is just a little gingerbread on the main side porch, suggesting a lace doily ...