Dear Janesy, I have enclosed a photo of our old homestead, now yours. I know you will think I have left you nothing but a money pit – a pile of debris on land that may seem cursed, spurned for decades by God and Nature alike, and then – well, the terrible fire that ended everything, or most things. As for me, I go on. I know you will think either that I must hate you, or that I must be laughing at you from the Great Beyond, to have left you such a thing. But I know, too, that you will not resell it or walk away, abandoning it to time and weather, as others might have done.