The Istoriaphile’s Corner

We’re deep in the throes of winter now with the mercury hugging the bottom of the temperature gauge and snow depth being measured in feet.  Everyone I know is huddled up, snuggled down, wrapped in layers and beseeching God for a little Global Warming to thaw out the frozen ground.  During these long, frozen nights a house almost becomes a living thing, cradling and caring for the creatures within. Our slippered feet scuffle across its floors and we sink into chairs by the fireside content, with our books and our layers, to let winter rage outdoors because it can’t touch us in here.  Winter is the time to cherish your home. So this may not be the best night to read The House Next Door, the second novel by Anne Rivers Siddons.  It’s a great story, set in Atlanta in the 1970’s and it’s the kind of book that will keep you wound up in its pages, but imaginative people may want to leave this till summer.  During these months we need to believe we are safe when we’re home and the house in these pages is wicked. No one in the neighborhood wants to see the new house go up.  …