Wiffle Ball

Poking around the outside of the house, we noticed a few objects nestled in the foliage, a soccer ball, a wiffle ball and bat, a shoe, some old slides, a few gift tags. Not uncommon in New England, when odd things get buried in snow banks and then left behind after the thaw, like glacial debris. 

Later, as we decended the stairs with the inspector, the homeowner called after me. 

"One thing you HAVE to know about this house is the Wiffle Ball. We used to play out in the street. All the neighborhood kids would come out of their houses to play. And people from other parts of town would drive over and drop their kids off to join in the fun. It was really something special."

I could feel the nostalgia and the aftertaste of joy and community that was left with him as he told this memory. "That does sound really wonderful. What great memories. Thanks for telling me that story!"

"You're welcome! There sure are a lot of memories. It's a great house. You'll love it here."

And so it is.