The Old Homestead

We spent a good part of the day with my Dad today. It meant that those who normally care for him could get away for a few hours respite.
Two shots pasted together for you. On the left is the modest suburban house in which my parents raised the whole eight of us. That tree wasn't there then.
On the right is what was behind me as I shot the other photo.... the back garden. It was here that we sported and played. That glasshouse wasn't there either but we had a marvelous swing  on a bough on what now is a dead pine tree. In a way it doesn't surprise me that the poor old tree succumbed. My eldest sister and I almost excavated it roots to oblivion in our quest to find giant ants after seeing an awful horror movie which featured such creatures.
Alas that beloved sister, Monica and my wonderful but crazy mother are both no longer with us. My Dad soldiers on though. Now in his 95th year, largely blind and mostly deaf, he struggles on, totally housebound. He never even gets out to see his garden anymore.