Up the foggy mountain road, past two waterfalls, into the drive, up the wooded path and across the mossy rock patio. Step inside. Do you hear the bird in the kitchen and catch a little Rat Pack or Nat King Cole drifting in to greet you? Take off your shoes so you can feel the creak of the wood, the cush of the carpet, the cold of the marble and the scratch of the oriental rugs beneath your feet. From ping pong and endless games of pool in the basement to long, rainy afternoons of make believe in the attic… everything in between is now just a sweet memory. Tall bar stools line the bar in the living room, chocolates hidden just in our reach, a twinkling two-story Christmas tree, dressed to the nines. Antique arcade game, slot machine, and trampoline with just enough life left in them for you. Twelve cousins, sneaking upstairs to the special closets and decking out in Nana’s stash of lace, fir, pearls, heels, hats, bowties and pipes. Tip-toe downstairs and line up in front of the giant fireplace to put on the next fabulous performance of The Cousin Crew. Oh the melodies. Oh the laughter. Welcome to Ten Bartram Road… Nana’s house. A cup overflowing with childhood, music, home, loss, gain, support, worth, family. We want to share those stories. Don’t you want a swig?