The house, however, was not. My parents were renting it, and it had structural problems. Half the year, you could open the front door; half the year, you could open the back door. Rarely could you open both at once. You could place an egg on the kitchen counter and it would roll off. A large crack ran vertically over the center of the entrance to the living room; sometimes, you could put your hand into it - sometimes, you could hardly see it. The house talked. Sometimes, it moaned. But it was a nice house - big, roomy, pretty. We had good times in that house.
I think they're trying to save the house, but it looks like pirates are digging for buried treasure. Maybe it's the government, digging a secret hole to China. Or it could just be they're installing piers.
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