Carriage House – Fiction Friday

I am the carriage house that sits right next to the Story Mill House. I must be on the historical register but I can’t read the sign from here. I am falling apart, too.

Fiction Friday – The Greenhouse

My creator came from a place with four distinct seasons. She began working on me because she missed her old home. She moved here from a place where she could turn the garden in late February and have early peas growing by March.