One of the places where we lived when I was growing up had this big wood out the back. And starting when I was about 8, I used to enjoy just walking alone through the wood late. Eleven p.m. Midnight. Later.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
I went through a wood-chopping phase when I was nine or 10.
I love beautiful wood.
When I was old enough to walk home alone from school, I loved seeing our house from a distance. It sat on the corner of South Muirfield Road and West 4th Street and had this proud, majestic look. But I rarely went through the front door. The back was more dramatic.
But by the time you get there and you get home, it winds up being a lot of time out. So I'm getting the itch to build, I know that. I keep looking at my stacks of wood and what I can do with it.
When I was a junior, boys were allowed to come visit me at the house. We could sit on the porch until about 8 o'clock at night; that's when it started getting dark. That was it.
In the middle of the journey of our life I came to myself within a dark wood where the straight way was lost.
When I was growing up, and other people I knew were getting into trouble, I was somewhere in a deer stand or going to bed early so I could be up before dawn to hunt turkeys. My love of the outdoors kept me solid.
Along 4 Mile Run, there was a nice woods down in front of the house. I used to run around there.
My parents managed a summer camp, and it was vacant for about seven or eight months out of the year. It was in the middle of nowhere in the woods. We backed up to a state forest. So absolutely, there were creepy woods all around the house. It was easy to get lost. It was really spooky.
I have blocks of wood all over my house; I spend all of my day knocking!