“It takes a heap o’ livin’ in a house t’ make it home.” - Edgar Albert Guest.It’s hard to believe, but this month marks 25 years since my wife and I moved into our small-but-affordable country house.I remember the autumn hikes up “Gideon’s mountain” (as our 13-year-old son Gideon calls it), and repeat encounters with King Root (a prominent orange tree root growing near the creek). I remember a visiting youngster giddily gathering the poke sallet that voluntarily springs up in the front yard. I remember the annual ritual of waiting for the wild blackberries along the driveway to ripen, only to have them invariably snatched up by thieving birds.I remember our cockiness at drilling a well. (It yielded salt water.) We were able to connect to the county water main only after surviving for more than 10 years with spring water that was muddy for THREE DAYS every time a cloud had the audacity to precipitate.I remember our first full winter in the house.