ERASED

A deep sense of foreboding and sadness overcame me as I walked up and down, row upon row of paraphernalia. Here before me was a public display of someones home and personal belongings at an estate sale.  Everything, including the house and property, would be auctioned off to the highest bidder.

By days end the whole kit and caboodle had been auctioned.  The footprint of a lifetime had been divided and parceled, then carried away to another life and time.  The essence of who had lived there was erased in a single day.

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kietie

Down in my basement, lined neatly on a shelf are handwritten notebooks chronicling my life. After years of writing, the experience became more of a burden then an important part of my day so I quit writing. Five years later I took up writing again. This time it was in the form of a blog which gave me a place to hang out after I lost my job. From there my blog content morphed into writing about my general contractor experience building our house. As my life experiences grew so did my blog.

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