Little town ten miles up the road, site of our luncheon meeting. The town may be small, but the church in which we met is a very large building, very nice.
And directly across the street from the sanctuary entrance is this quaint building, the original purpose of which I am unaware. It's current purpose is to provide background, or ambience, or to serve as community eyesore, depending on your point of view. Even the basketball hoop is disused. I dare say a ball has not dropped through that rim in a generation.
Around the corner and a half block north is this fabulous old structure. BBBH riding shotgun exclaimed, "Oh, that is my kind of house." I knew this. She is enamored of gingerbread and wrap-around porches. The first, I claim, is a pain because maintenance (scraping, painting) is much too intensive. The second is inefficient, roofing so much of the outdoors.
Given its lines my mind's eye pictures the magnificence of this place in its prime.
Like the old house, I am not what I once was.