22 Marks Rd.-the good; the bad; and the ugly.

 

I think almost everyone has memories associated with  our farmhouse in Greenwich, CT.  The house was to be college education for the kids and Dad and Mom had wonderful ideas for what they could turn this 1900's farm house into.  The stories are endless, some funny, some sad, and some I can't repeat to my parents. It was the home I most remember and still miss. I have to admire my parents for taking such a huge task on while raising two teenagers, Dad working crazy hours and then working more on the weekends while mom used her creativity decorating the 2 x 4 wood stud walls and trying to make the place our home. I still tease him about the time he dropped a wood stud on my head and mom still remembers the hammer dad dropped by accident. (at least he says it was an accident.) To name only a few memories. It was the fixer upper that became their money pit but it was still my home. 

 

I think it was his love of construction and renovation and imagination that lead me to become an architect. It is a bond I am bery grateful we share. Jeff too got the itch and has done his own additions and projects around the house. I guess Dad influenced us both this way. I will forever remember his determination, angst, mom's trips to the nearby lumberyards, Jeff and his friends being put to the task,  my attic renovation, and the many pots that we needed on rainy days. Most of all i remember sitting with my parents on the front porch on a warm summer night after Dad would get home. The long driveway gave it privacy even though we were surrounded by homes and I would walk around the yard while they sat on the swinging porch catching up on their day. 

 

About 15 years ago it was bought and finally demolished for a new shiny home to be built. It saddened me but it made it more "my home" as no one else would share the house with me.