Whenever I dream of family the dream is centered around the home my father built by hand. I only lived there 12 years of my life, but my mind goes there as my home. All the other places I've lived could only be categorized as shelters. Last night's dream took me up the driveway in tears. Someone had bought the house and was turning it into a store. I toured the rooms remembering as we got older helping father put on additions to the home. I liked block work and framing, but didn't fancy the roofing at all. A family belonged in this home. I hope someone would purchase it in the future and restore it to a family home.