I remember every year my mom would take me to the farm house in Waskada Manitoba where she grew up. It was built in the early 1900’s and had been abandoned since the late 1950’s. Every time we would visit we would walk around the house, stare into the broken windows, and would sometimes walk in and explore. Old furniture and rubble were scattered amidst remnants of flower printed wallpaper and hardwood floor, and pigeons and other animals had made nests. As we explored the space, my mom would narrate the space as she had remembered it – and collect old wood and other objects to remember for later.