my uncle and his cursed house

my uncle seemed to have absorbed all the handyman skills ever to be bestowed to the family hawkins. my father and i, despite our best efforts, have never been capable of taking four evenly cut pieces of wood and putting them together and having a square emerge. at best, it turns inexplicably into a rectangle... or worse... an oddly shaped piece of modern art that is as destructible as a swan made of origami in a face off with a steamroller.

my uncle, however, could take the origami, the steam roller, and turn it into a remote control airplane that actually flies and is powered by wind.

no matter, his house was cursed. for nearly the entirety of my memories of my uncle he lived in the same house made of all wood and on a stunning lot outside of both orangeville and shelburn in ontario, canada. in that time it got hit by a few tornadoes. the advantage to him having all the handyman skills is that while this was a hassle to have his house torn apart, he was given a blank canvas to make improvements he'd likely sat awake at night thinking about long before the tornadoes would roll through.

anyways, last year he sold his cursed house and moved up closer to my folks just out side of flesherton*, ontario. i had more than expected another tornado to tear through and have its last affair with the old manor, however, i was more than surprised to see it succumb to fire. perhaps the new owners have the savvy to recreate this lovely abode, but my suspicions lead me to beleive it may have stood its last stand against nature. as the earth seemed determined to have her final victory over the structure just a few weeks ago. i hope the new owners are able to find a way to carry on living on this property as it seemed that only the house was cursed, not the property itself... and further that it was something of a wonderland when we would visit and play hockey on the pond and go for miles on snowmobiles**...

anyways, i'm rambling. check out the story here


*according to my sister, this is the town where no one flushes their toilet.
** as a child i thought cousin kris was surely to kill me time after time after time, but he proved rather skilled at operating these machines at racecar speeds.