This Must Be The Place

This is the day that we celebrate the birth of my younger brother and our homestead. Eleven years ago we asked him to drop by and lift every stick of furniture we owned at time, as well as our carelessly boxed earthly possessions. When we were all done, we fed him and a few other hearty souls pizza and drank Coca Cola from two liter bottles in tribute to his patience and good will.
Over the years, we have used this celebration to come together to marvel at the way time paints in broad strokes. After all, eleven years ago there was a Democrat in the White House, and most of us had yet to fret about Y2K. Bosnia was the international hot-spot, and George Lucas was still trying to make good on his promise to "finish" Star Wars. My own son was still a pending concern, and though we had done everything we could think of to be prepared for his arrival, we were at the very bottom of one of the steepest learning curves imaginable.
Fast forward a decade and some change, and things look awfully different. The home that we bought has been repaired and appraised and painted and reconfigured in big and small ways. I have watched my younger brother's employment history go through many of the same twists and turns. Sometimes I scratch my head, since I can't imagine such easy transitions in my job. I am always amazed at how he finds a way to keep himself a job that allows him to become the artist he wants to be.
Come to think of it, maybe it's just the outside world that keeps changing, and here at Rancho DeLuxe we make our little improvements without altering the foundation. Both of my brothers help me realize this on a regular basis. I guess that's what having a home is all about.