Layers

Our house was built in 1883. We still have one of the original doors and key. I never thought I would own a cellar, or have a stone foundation. Kyle grew up in a historic home, and bought our house before we were married. I have grown to love the character that it has in it's arches, and old doorways.
One of my favorite things about living in a historic home is peeling back the layers, and discovering little bits of the past. Kyle tore up our storage room, to remodel it into a laundry room. We had to take it down to it's "bare bones". When Addisen first saw it her jaw dropped to the floor and she quietly told my that it was a "big mess", and it still is.
Underneath the carpet was this lovely linoleum, underneath that there was newspaper spread out. It was so wonderful to be able to read bits and pieces from February 1st, 1956. I especially enjoyed the funnies :)
I have a little collection of things that I have found in, and around, our house. I can't help but to think of all the families that have lived in our home. I want to know their stories. I want to know where this puzzle piece fits. Or who wore this pin? What grew in this garden? Whenever we have remodeled a room I have loved looking at all of the layers of paint that have been on the walls. There is white, on top of yellow, on top of green, on top of red, on top of another shade of green. As each family has added on, I think of the dreams that they must have had for their home, and their lives. I imagine in several years someone will find my shade of paint on the kitchen wall, buried under other, fresher paints, and they too will wonder about me, and why I ever thought red was a good idea....