You can't put a price on a piece of your heart

It was a restful weekend spent at one of the most relaxing places I know. When we arrived there was a cool breeze off the lake.  Sitting on the porch it was hard to believe how hot it had been at home earlier in the day.  On our two morning walks we saw deer cross the road and rescued a turtle.  The tiger swallowtail butterflies were everywhere.  On Saturday my daughter and her family joined us and my grandsons found out how much fun it is to play in the water.

When the thunderstorms rolled in we all retreated to the porch and watched the rain come across the lake.

This black-crowned night-heron was posing on the pier when I woke up Sunday morning.

Watching the rain, feeling the breeze, waking to a heron on the pier - all was peaceful and relaxing.  But whenever I sit on the porch of that house,  there are other pictures in my mind.

My dad, entertaining my oldest daughter, Tracy (the daughter whose sons enjoyed the water so much on Saturday.)

My dad swimming with my daughter Emi, about 1980.

My sister, expecting her first child, resting in the hammock with my daughters and my dad.

My daughters and their GrandPatty doing arts and crafts on the porch (when it was still a screened porch).

Enjoying popsicles in the butterfly chair on the porch.

My son and his Great-uncle Charles at a gathering of my husband's family.

Celebrating my brother's and my son's birthdays, just a day apart in May.

My son (right) and his cousins.

Just one of many family gatherings when the children were young.

There are hundreds of pictures of vacations, holidays, and family gatherings at this house.  I can see many of them in my mind's eye when I sit on that porch.  The value of this house can't be measured by an appraiser.  You can't put a price on a piece of your heart.