As a child, I spent a lot of time with my grandmother. We were a close-knit family, and many summers, weekends, and holidays, we would descend upon my Nana’s two-story abode where fun and adventure beckoned. Nana’s home was unique. Perched high atop a tree-shrouded hillside overlooking Route 66, the huge, native stone gem seemed almost surreal. With its cascade of thick, concrete …
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