James Whitcomb Riley would have liked this place, I think. He might even have written a poem for it, only instead of "Out to Old Aunt Mary's" he would have had to have used something like "out to old Aunt Sav-Lov's".
It was such a rich old place, all the pecan trees shading the drive and a well and barn in the back. We rummaged through letters and made stories and the ghost of that house told us to stop being so nosy, but Sav-Lov told the ghost "Graham, be quiet." and laughed, but I had chill bumps.
One day, I'll probably drive out to Old Aunt Sav-Lov's and find her milking her cow, or hanging laundry on the line, with her bonnet tied nicely around her face, and her apron worn and torn. But that will be perfectly understandable, for this woman will have had 12 or 14 by that time.
It'll be good, though, to be there under the pecan trees.