To meet my thousand thousand faces I roam the world;
The dirtiest grass
Wears the sunlight of my skin:
I stand in this stream, myself, and laugh.
Rumi
LEGALLY, I AM THE OWNER of the house. It’s a stately and ornate gentleman farmer’s house with plenty of room, built in 1912. The story goes that two well-to-do gents had eyes for the same dame, so they each built the nicest house they could. They both proposed to her, assuming that she’d go for the one with the best house. I first heard the story in my lawyer’s office at the closing. His secretary was fully versed in my house’s history. I waited anxiously to know how it turned out, whether my house won. It did. Sportingly, the other house burned down a few years later.
Good story. If it was made up or amended I don’t want to know. I like it just the way it is.
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