Before this became a project, it was a memory.

 

Visiting my great aunt and uncle’s farm as a child was one of those experiences that etches itself deep—listening to the sound of the woodpecker door knocker on the back door, spying the old cookie tin full of candy for us kids, standing at the bottom of the stairs to the second floor, aching to know what was up there. 

​

Their farmhouse is quiet now. But it still holds the spirit of everything I remember—warmth, hard work, family, place.

 

This section is a personal starting point. A glimpse into the kinds of stories this project hopes to preserve. Through memories of their farm and others like it, I aim to explore not just the architecture of these disappearing homes, but the lived-in moments that made them matter.

 

Because every farmstead holds more than wood and windows. It holds people. It holds memory. It holds meaning.