Stanwood is a tiny nook in the Michigan woods where my grandparents live. (It's about near the base of your ring finger if you hold your hand up like a mitten.) They live by a lake in a house made of what my nana calls "Persian" cedarwood, because her Persian cat has rubbed herself all over it. They are visited by deer and many squirrels, including one named Charlie who always comes for Christmas. My nana buys her vegetables and pies from a local Amish family. The father planes wood for my grandpa. If you ever hear me say I'm going home, it means I'm going to Stanwood.
Stanwood is a tiny nook in the Michigan woods where my grandparents live. (It's about near the base of your ring finger if you hold your hand up like a mitten.) They live by a lake in a house made of what my nana calls "Persian" cedarwood, because her Persian cat has rubbed herself all over it. They are visited by deer and many squirrels, including one named Charlie who always comes for Christmas. My nana buys her vegetables and pies from a local Amish family. The father planes wood for my grandpa. If you ever hear me say I'm going home, it means I'm going to Stanwood.
