Lost and Found

It feels a little strange going through the things other people left behind. I keep making up stories in my head about who lived here and what happened to make them leave the things they did.



This week we started going through the little wooded area out back and found a lot of junk... remnants of an old pool (above ground), a satellite dish, lots of building materials like asphalt shingles and tons of little stuff like bottles and cans. That area has been a dump for a long time, and it makes sense too, out here you either haul away your own stuff, pay someone to do it or just dump it out back.




I also started going through the attic and found some poor guy's list of offenses that ran for about 20 years and included stuff like assaulting an officer, DWI, and B&E. But I also found a sadder thing. It's a little cloth-bound notebook with some writing on the cover. There's a title, then some writing underneath by the meanest grandmom ever.

The Search for My Parent
By Chasity

They not lost. They just don't love you enough to be parents. But I always love you and you not mine. Be happy my love one. And always good luck to you.
Grandma