[caption id="attachment_1280" align="aligncenter" width="425" caption="The kitchen's theme extended throughout the entire house."][/caption] Oftentimes, an important element of why a home was foreclosed upon is evident upon inspection. Yesterday's heroin house is a prime example of this. Today's home was a bit more normal in the realm of trashouts, but it did offer clues. It appeared that a tennis-playing, middle-aged man lived here in the midst of a return to a frat-boy lifestyle: every room was cluttered with mess; cans and pizza boxes littered the ground; dishes overflowed from the sink onto the counter and floor; an exercise ball had rolled to where a TV used to be. [caption id="attachment_1277" align="aligncenter" width="640" caption="Praying for a better tomorrow."][/caption] And still, like the photo above, there were feminine touches all around that had been left undisturbed for quite some time, like artifacts from a previous civilization that used to inhabit this land of 2000 square feet of carpet and lumber and glass. There was a woman, I suspected, but she was long gone. [caption id="attachment_1278" align="aligncenter" width="425" caption="An odd juxtaposition."][/caption] More recently, it seemed, that children had lived in the home. Two different rooms held toys, 101 Dalmations posters, school papers, trophies. These were the nomads caught in the crossfire of a domestic situation that I did not yet understand. [caption id="attachment_1279" align="aligncenter" width="640" caption="See no evil..."][/caption]   [caption id="attachment_1281" align="aligncenter" width="640" caption="Entertainment."][/caption] In spite of the small elements of childhood, the home had become a man's domain, the kind of place that makes you want to crack open a beer and talk about the Twins' prospects this season while you're tinkering with the carburetor. [caption id="attachment_1282" align="aligncenter" width="640" caption="I did not kick the tires."][/caption] A clue as to what had happened here appeared in the bathroom, where a notebook was open to this page: [caption id="attachment_1283" align="aligncenter" width="640" caption="A list I hope never to have to write."][/caption] What lead to this five-point list, I do not know. But here was the evidence of a family fractured, of a healthy helping of upheaval. Personal finances had changed. Priorities had shifted. It was time for a new beginning. I wish them well.  

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