Thanks for the memories

Going, going, gone...

Dad helped us build the gazebo when we first moved here, way back in the early 1980's.  We sat around the kitchen table and sketched out a design, then he went to work with salvaged cedar shakes and a few boards from the lumber yard. He is a talented, resourceful carpenter and we built it on a shoestring.

I was still working as a minimum wage florist and thinking about applying to graduate school.  Amanda was about seven. She had just recovered from some mystery virus that baffled the doctor and upset the family all winter.  Sunshine finally returned and the outdoor spring project cheered everyone up.

The old cedar shakes kept out the rain for over 30 years.  But time takes its toll. The floor eventually rotted, the foundation tipped and water dripped though the roof.  It was pretty much beyond repair and finally time to say goodbye. Our new young carpenter Troy had it dismantled and hauled off in a couple of hours. 

Letting go of things with great sentimental value can be hard.  At first, all you notice is the hole, like having a tooth pulled. Then the mind opens to possibilities, like a new garden house in a different part of the yard. I'm already looking at plans on the Internet and talking to Troy. 

But for now, Adios Gazebo.  Thanks for all the memories:

1. You were a fine playhouse for Amanda, and much later for Nova and Maya.
2. You were the place I hid out and studied for the GRE exam the summer of 1984.
3. You were the place I practiced a presentation out loud for my first professional job.
4. You were always the envy of our garden party guests. 
5. You were the sweetest spot for countless summer afternoon glasses of wine.
6. You kept my random garden junk dry over the winter. (I'll miss that.)
7. I never got tired of looking at you in the snow.
8. You listened to the first pitiful plinking on my new ukulele.
9. Most of all, you were the epitome of Wabi-Sabi beauty.