There are families who stay in their homes for generations upon generations, but not mine.

Growing up my grandparents had a farm in Peru, NY but they were the first family to live there. My grandfather’s family had a farm that their family was on for over 100 years and then his family decided to go to Vermont and sold it but they never went. There is a tragic tale of the cows being sick and put down. My grandparents bought a farm in Harkness, NY where they raised my mom and her siblings and then they moved in I believe 1963 or 1964 to a farm on Barker Road in Peru, NY. They had a dairy farm but their taste for farming died after my Uncle Leslie died in a tragic accident.

The then became snow birds and spent their time between Upstate New York and St. Petersburgh, Florida. Maybe that is why I love Florida so much.

My Dad’s parents lived in Long Island City, Astoria most of their lives. My Grandpa Tony came to this country in 1920 and made his way to NY after 1936. They settled into a 6 family house in 1938 until they passed. No one lives in Long Island City any longer.

As I get older I truly believe the Homestead is the people. I would one day love to live on a big piece of property with a front porch and rocking chairs with loved ones all around. Though not anywhere where it snows.