writing

Tennessee Mountain Home

A little retreat I’ve built in my head. Isn’t it nice to dream? Enjoy!


The paved road is pot-holed and broken. There was a time it was gravel and dust. It splits off the main road and takes us off to Grandma and Grandpa’s old home. Poplar, oak and maple trees shade the road as we wind our way, up and down the hills, past my own father’s house, and around a few other relatives homes before we see the weeping willow and the old home’s drive.

Another family lives in Grandma and Grandpa’s old place now; still a part of the family, but it’s not the same. Grandma and Grandpa have long passed away, and so we continue on. Up one more hill, then down, where our drive should be. Uncle blocked it off with a pile of gravel so teenagers wouldn’t turn it into a hangout spot. We’ll have to continue around. Some orange daylilies and purple passionflowers grow alongside the road as we drive on.

So on we go, around the bend, past another Uncle’s, and his field of corn, then back to a freshly blacktopped road. Turn left and just up the road, a gravel drive leads up a hill. There is our destination, the other side of the drive to our land, leading up to my uncle and cousin’s houses, which both back up to our property.

Our property is a future site for a future home. However, I doubt I’ll live here one day. I’ve thought of plans, how to make it welcoming, to bring my mother and her family together, but the timing isn’t right. Mother doesn’t want to be here at this point and we no longer fit, not that I ever did…

We settle in and say our hellos to my aunt and uncle. Sitting on the back porch, our land lies ahead. Two acres for mom, one for me, up on a small brush covered nob. My cousins keep mom’s side mowed; they have turned it into a glorious lawn between their homes. It is the perfect place for their kids and dogs to play and the fireflies to light up the evening as the sun sets.

Still I can see the place I’d like to build. Maybe a little vacation home might be nice. Maybe plant a couple pear trees along the drive; the driveway would follow the valley between our lots. The drive would lead up to the house with an open porch, rockers and chairs about, and an outdoor kitchen and setup for a firepit with chairs all around. As you walk in, a long dining table, with a bench seat running down one side, so there is always room to squeeze in one more. Wood floors throughout along with throw rugs here and there to keep our feet warm. Tile in the wet areas and kitchen to ease cleanup.

A gas fireplace in the center of the home to warm it up on cold winter days and welcome everyone with a little heat. Maybe two-sided, one side toward the eating area, the other to the living room. The living room would be inviting and comfortable, a sofa and some chairs, and room for a Christmas tree in front of the window.

A roomy kitchen would border the dining room. It would be reminiscent of Grandma’s, with countertops large enough to make biscuits, bread, and cakes as well to set out a family dinner. A gas stove would be a must. A side door would lead to an outdoor gathering spot for all the family to share.

A bedroom or two with bathrooms to boot would round out the house, whether they be upstairs or down. I might want a little summer porch in the back, much like Grandma’s, where the washer and dryer would sit along with any extra pantry items needing to be stored. The house would be quiet, and cozy, and hopefully filled with love.

It could be a nice little place one day, but for now, it will stay a dream. A different life requires my attention.

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