I have lost the original scent of my grandparents' house but I still find it in my mind. I recently located the house in Nampa where my grandparents lived when I was a child. The same familiar outside structure remains, but the home I knew doesn't exist. A house is not your home forever so you truly can't go home again. That house was virtually my second home when my grandparents lived there. We farmed a few miles away and visited them weekly. For good measure, my grandparent's home was across the street from my elementary school. Little ingrate that I was, I frequently skipped the watery vegetable soup of the school hot lunch program and slipped across the street for the grandmother-fried chicken/Bill Hall, Lewiston Tribune. More here.

Question: Does your childhood home still stand?