The
dream house...
Over forty years ago Mom & Dad bought a piece of land off Wallings Rd. in North Royalton. The dream was to build a house on the acre and three-quarters. While they thought and planned, Dad planted a garden every summer, tomatoes, mostly. He planted a row of six-inch pine seedlings that we got from the county extension service. He used a big metal pail to carry water for the garden.
The years went by. The seedlings grew bigger and bigger, big enough that Joanne and I cut one for a Christmas tree one year. Dad eventually gave up on the garden after the deer and rabbits ate most of what he'd planted.
Still the house didn't get built. There was always something not quite right.
The zoning needed to be
changed. The kit homes they planned to buy were too expensive, or
not the right style. The neighbor said something unusual about what he planned
to do with his 
land.
Eventually he sold it and a church was built next door, and who wanted
to live next to a church?
More years went by, and the house wasn't mentioned anymore. The garden didn't get planted. The pine trees grew higher than everything else. The city threatened fines because the land was completely overgrown.
We sold it a few years ago, and it still remains the only undeveloped plot in the area, between a church and a daycare center. The pine trees, a rusty pail, and a rotting storage shed are all that's left of Mom & Dad's dream house.
It's taught me a powerful lesson about acting on your dreams before it's too late.
TOP What do you think abot LIVING YOUR DREAMS?
Sunny day in the suburbs
It's
a whole different world out there.
This Saturday afternoon I played soccer (grand)dad, taking my grandson to his two games.
The North Royalton Bears play at a multi-field complex about a half mile west of Mom & Dad's old lot. Hundreds of kids, parents, and grandparents spread out across the fields, hillsides, and play areas.
Clearly I was new at this, since I didn't think to bring a folding chair and had to stand during two hour-long games.
The crowd was virtually all white. I saw only one African-American—a coach—and one or two people who may have been Hispanic. Didn't hear any sirens the whole time we were there. Kids were polite and obedient. Speaking of dreams, I guess this is the American Dream for some of us.
As for me, I'm happy to visit. Wouldn't want to live there.