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My mother has decided to buy an apartment in a retirement community, and she has graciously offered to sell me the home I grew up in. Not just sell it to me, but to sell it at about half of market value. Wow!

So I'm standing in the back yard thinking that I could build off the back of the house to increase the size of the kitchen, build a sunroom off the den, and increase the size of the two bedrooms on the back.

Then it hits me.

This house was big enough for my father and mother and brother and me. It was large enough to have friends over. Large enough to have grandparents visit. Large enough to raise Golden Retrievers in a whelping box in the "breakfast room" (where we never once had breakfast). Large enough to play and study and sleep and eat and play cards and board games and do projects. Large enough that each of us could have some private space when we needed it.

And here I am, single, and thinking about adding on. Sheesh! If it was good enough for my parents to raise 2 sons in, it's surely big enough for me to live in by myself.

Guess I got a really good lesson today.

And probably saved myself 20 or 30 thousand bucks in the process.


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