More spindles, from bare bones to voluptuous.
I didn't realize how poorly painted the floorboards are...rather, the extra painting that was done.
When I visited home recently, I spent some time at my grandparents' house. This was never my home, even though I lived on the same property the first 10 years of my life. I feel saddened with the stillness, without seeing my humble grandfather always tinkering with the landscape or fixing tools. With my grandparents gone, my uncle is the caretaker of this mansion. The majestic Victorian home is a shadow of a once gleaming estate.
My father likely reminisces more, as it was his childhood home. What is now a paved parking area and several apartment units my grandfather built, was an acre of tropical trees and lush grass along a hillside with flowing double blossom fuchsia bougainvillea bushes lining the front and an unobstructed view of the Pacific when he was a child.
The weathered house stands strong, not accepting time, a testament of the workmanship withstanding over a century of kids, tropical storms, family parties, and termites, witnessing Hawaii as it was over half a century before statehood.