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I’ve fallen in love with a house.
If I were a proper member of my generation, I would be in a serious relationship with my iPhone, not besotted with the T.B. Ripy House.
Not the most conventional match, I know.
As a part of my series on downtown Lawrenceburg, a tour of the only historic landmark designated by the historic district commission — a group looking to preserve a swath of Main Street residences and business— seemed essential.
I don’t delight in the spoils of a war between a house and the wear and tear of time.
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