Maybe the only ghost left will be my own

I think about that house- the McKern House, located outside Newberg, Oregon- now and then: on rainy days, when I smell woodsmoke, when I hear a spooky story, or am just feeling nostalgic. I somehow wasn't too surprised when I got an out-of-the-blue email from an old friend- "Your house is being turned into a museum!" with a link to a newspaper photo of my old house looking sad and worn-down, shorn of its grove of trees and, thus, air of mystery and menace I'd always associated with it. The house and the barn were scheduled to move to a new location after more than a century of standing in one place. I've never lived anywhere longer than five and a half years, and all five and a half of those years had been spent in this farmhouse. The article accompanying the picture is terse and made me realize that, while my memories of the house itself are crystal clear, I do not know any real details about its past.

Thanks to amazing guest blogger #2, Angela Robinson!