Last weekend I roamed around on a few acres of farm land with a couple of friends, which made me do nothing but wish I could live in the city and country at the same time. I like to keep my wishing simple and easy to achieve, don’t I? The grass is always greener. Always. My remedy for this age-old problem is quite simply, oh, roaming around on 30 acres just outside of town and then remembering that I can walk to a handful of terrific restaurants from my front door. And, I don’t need a tractor to cut my grass. And, I can walk to my neighbor’s house instead of taking an all-terrain vehicle. Okay. That’s not really a perk. And those children I don’t have—well, they are zoned for the best public school in Nashville. Grass. Greener.

Suppose I had a few acres in the city limits. I’d call Brad Skipper and say, “Let’s build this.”

This house is compliments of Martha. Because she taught me everything I know.

What’s not to love? If I were going to run away from home, this is the sort of house I’d run toward. That big old table begs for a houseful of friends to sit around it. That piano is ready for somebody’s fingers to dance across its keys. Nothing short of lovely.