For all the folks at number 34

Autumn , that time when I get a little nostalgic (morose)

Can I say that «you are living in my house» ?

It is no longer my house, though, it was the place that felt most like home.

I can say that «this is the house that I used to live in,» though I have lived in many places since, therefore THIS house or THE house, becomes no more than A house where I used to live. Use of the indefinite article making time and place of dwelling more impersonal, more remote, less important. After all, it is only a house, nevertheless, it is the house where many important things happened.

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This place where you now have your sofa / TV / coffee table / dining table / fitness machine …This is the place where I was conceived, one January night back in the mid sixties – two parents in a single bed because they couldn’t afford a double.

This is the place were I was made This is the place where I played This is the place where my father lay dying, and here on the stairs, this bottom step, where I sat and waited for dad to come home.

This house was a home, bought in a less speculative time, when people bought houses to have homes, to raise families, to have a place that they could call home and not just a house.

This house is your house, but it is my old home, that place where the ghost of my childhood still walks. I don’t supose we ever truly live in a house, we simply dwell. We are merely generational custodians of bricks and mortar. My home is your home filled with all the ghosts of past, present and future. It is still the home of everyone who has lived and will live there. However, home is where the heart is, and part of my heart still feels that your home is my home – or I could say that part of me still feels at home in your house.

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