I suppose it was inevitable. Neglect to buy your grandmother’s 100-year-old house in Mississippi and someone else will turn it into a business–or, in this case, a government-funded rehab center for the emotionally-disturbed. Hence the added railing on the front porch and the wheelchair access ramp there on the left. But since my late father, who was said to have been born in the front bedroom on the left-hand side, didn’t see any need to keep it, I couldn’t decide why I should. Sentiment inevitably collides with money, I suppose, especially when the sentimental aren’t rich to begin with.
THE TEXAS SCRIBBLER 