I grew up on 2 1/2 acres. A rambling, basic, but large for the time, ranch house, and a large orchard which I've written about how I got to experience being a child slave laborer. Though I was paid well in terms of horse time, so I was properly bought off.
To fund my parents' retirement that place was sold and is now 4 McMansions. This is the closest I'll ever go to it:
It's the one place in the world that I won't go, which is really a strange feeling. Something that played such a large role in my early life just isn't there anymore. Many years ago my father tried to find the place he grew up in Tiger, GA and ran into a similar thing. The house just wasn't there anymore and he seemed kinda thrown by that. Muttering "You really can't go home again." I think I've taken that to heart. I know I shouldn't go there. It would just hurt.
My house would have been on the right of the photo and the rest was horse corral and then the orchard. Mostly of oranges, but a fair number of avocado trees as well. Ironically being a typical picky kid I didn't like avocados until I left home and experienced the heaven of guacamole. But at least I was and remain heavily into fruit so I wasn't a lost cause.
My house would have been on the right of the photo and the rest was horse corral and then the orchard. Mostly of oranges, but a fair number of avocado trees as well. Ironically being a typical picky kid I didn't like avocados until I left home and experienced the heaven of guacamole. But at least I was and remain heavily into fruit so I wasn't a lost cause.
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