About

Henry was built in 1890.  He was 125 years old when we met.  I was 40.  He was a dreadful mess the first time I saw him.  The heirs to the estate had temporarily moved in and … well … they were pigs.

But underneath the mess, I could see the glimmer of something wonderful.  Something worthwhile.  Something struck a chord deep within me.  So I bought him.

This is our story.

Want to start at the beginning?  Here is the first post.

 

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