In a few weeks (and I’ll add a “God-willing” as a qualifier here because we all know that nothing is certain except death and taxes) we will be selling our home of 30 years. It is the home that we built on what was formerly a small piece of farmland in a little town west of Boston. Our town grew up with us; as we aged and our family grew, our town sprouted suburban malls in which we shopped for the kids, trendy restaurants to enjoy on a Saturday night, and lately, just when I have more time to work out, a bunch of boutique fitness centers.