The old wood stove sits in our glass-enclosed entryway just outside the kitchen. It has all the working parts inside--someday it is my dream to incorporate that old stove into our kitchen. It is a large open room. Ancient glassed doors still hang over the old cupboards, and there is an air of the past which sometimes wafts through.
I have a photo of our house when it was first built by a steam-boat captain. The lady who once lived here stands beside our house in her elegant dark dress. I wonder a lot about her. The woman who once rolled bread dough upon this lovely leaf-green, marble-like substance would be amazed by my world. But the truth is, I would be equally astonished by hers.