My sister-in-law put our house in her name while I was recovering from surgery - but I had proves... скачать в хорошем качестве

My sister-in-law put our house in her name while I was recovering from surgery - but I had proves...

My name is Natalie Brennan and I am thirty-six years old, and I want to start this story by telling you something about the house, because the house is the center of everything, the way that certain things become the center of everything not because they are the most valuable thing you own but because they represent something larger than their square footage and their market appraisal and the number on the mortgage statement that arrives on the fifteenth of every month. The house is a craftsman bungalow on a tree-lined street in Portland, Oregon. It was built in 1923 and it has the particular bones of houses from that era, wide baseboards, deep window seats, a front porch with original columns that the previous owners had, mercifully, left alone rather than replacing with the vinyl approximations that have destroyed the character of so many old houses in this city. The kitchen had been updated in the nineties in a way that was functional but aesthetically unfortunate, and one of the things I had planned, one of the small future-looking projects that kept me sane during a very difficult period, was to eventually restore it to something closer to what it would have been when the house was new.