The little white farmhouse

There's a little white farmhouse down the road from me and every time I go past it
I can't help think of yester years. It sits on the sunny side of a hill surrounded by green grass. It's not too big or too small and it is an old saltbox shape. I have always wanted to pull up to it and meet the occupants but I haven't had the nerve. I would love to know the history of it and the family that grew up there. I have even gone so far and "Zillow" ed it at zillow.com to see it. It is on a quite a spread, so I'm sure it's been in the family for many years. I think about If I owned it what I would do. I imagine having great summer parties in the back yard, lemonade, ginger cookies, and children playing hide-and-seek. I even imagine shabby white flour sack dish towels and freshly laundered sheets blowing in the wind on the clothesline as my friends and I sip our lemonade and eat our sandwiches on homemade wheat bread. I know pretty sappy with nostalgia. Sometimes I think I was born in the wrong era, don't get me wrong I love 2011 conveniences, however that farmhouse reminds me of more simpler times. This isn't it but it's similar.