I've always been fascinated with this old building that sits silently on the corner in our sleepy little town. It was built just after the previous turn of the century, when the new railroad came roaring through town. The first floor was a general store, and upstairs was the masonic lodge. After the store closed in the mid 1900's, the building was used as a civic center, then an apartment building. It eventually fell into disrepair. I've worried about this building for a while. The years haven't been kind to it, but when I look at it I see something more than its' battered and broken shell. I see my great-grandmother in her long skirts swishing through the door, carrying her basket of eggs to trade for a new sewing needle. Or my great-great grandpa driving his team and wagon down the side alley, ready to load up his winter supplies. I see the life that once bustled around this building, and though it seems now to sit quietly, I think it wants to live again. And thanks to my husband, it will. He bought this building for me, and we are now in the midst of restoration. It may take some time to get it done, but eventually we will breathe new life into what is now my old building.