Monday, April 18, 2016

No. 160

My father was a carpenter; therefore, I basically grew up in a small wooden house cum workshop. The house number is 160.

For all these years that I lived in that house, the sound of machine and the hammering, with the smell of wood dust was essentially still inside part of me; it is a life-long memory.

So much of my life has happened there; and my heart aches whenever I think about to never being in the house again. After today, this old house is getting a new ownership.

The place just holds so many feelings. Every time my parents and siblings talked about No. 160, it has evoked all kind of nostalgia and reminiscent in our heart; it is a wonderful place we called home.

Goodbye 160. I bid you farewell.

Barbeque gathering, the one last hurrah for our old house.



Rose World said...

Everything so nostalgia in there. Bring back good memories and childhood. Thanks for sharing the photos.

Sarah's Daddy and Mommy said...

Hi Rose, thanks for your comments.

Indeed, this post has brought back alot of wonderful memories of my previous home.
And I am glad you loved it too.

Thanks again.