Friday, September 14, 2018

My "AHA" moment.

And it only took me 5 years....

You see, my husband has no sense of smell.
Zero.  Nada.  Zilch. 

So when I say "honey, it's been so hot and humid... the garbage can in the kitchen smells nasty, so could you change it for me, while I finish doing the laundry?"

I get: "I don't smell anything... I think it can last another few days"...

 and he doesn't touch it.

When I say "Honey, Frankie's cat box needs changing - can you do it for me, while I cook supper?" 

I get:  "I can't smell it, I think it can last another day or so."

Even though you can see "kitty tootsies rolls" right on top!

When I say "Babe, your  Levi's smell like manky old grease and oil, snot and blood and whatever else you've wiped on them this week... why don't you throw them in the hamper so that I can wash them?"

I get:   I can't smell a thing. And besides, I don't want to waste water.
And he'll wear them for another week.  
(but he'll shower every night and change his t-shirt daily, because he says it smells of perspiration.  Go figure.)

In the middle of the night, when I say, " Honey,I smell a skunk, and the dogs are carrying on like we've been invaded... could you go look?"

I get:  "I don't smell anything.  You KNOW I have no sense of smell" 

.... and he'll roll over, go back to sleep and leave me to deal with it .

So tonight, when he asks what's for supper, I'm just going to say...

I'm not hungry.  I think it can wait until tomorrow.

Tuesday, September 11, 2018

Losing Our Deliverance

Losing our Deliverance

The accepted meaning of "deliverance" is:
 "the action of being set free.

To me?
That means that the tried and true things that have always defined us as a people, and as a nation, will keep us on the right track.  
We create our own deliverance.

And yes, I do agree that not all things in the past were perfect, but to tell you the truth, most of "who we are" got us through, for generation after generation after generation...
 and in my humble opinion, we're the better for it. 

I grew up knowing (or knowing of) my great grandparents, as well as my grandparents - all 3 sets of them. 
(my Dad's first wife died in childbirth, along with his only son -
and he eventually married my Mama 5 years later.)
But we "kept" his first in-laws, Grandma and Grandpa Clifton as "Grandparents"  
Then we had Daddy's parents - Grandma And Grandpa Simcox, and my Mama's mother - our Nana Wainscott.
Grandpa Wainscott was a bit of a scoundrel, and unfortunately - or fortunately, depending on how you look at it - he was in prison for most of my growing up years, but I still heard stories of his running with the likes of Pretty Boy Floyd, as well as robbing trains as a way to help support his family.  A family that he pretty much abused and to tell you the truth, I never really heard anything "nice" about the man, other than he kept a roof over his family's heads, until he went to prison anyway.

But I digress...

Back in those years, people worked hard for what they got.  They served in the Civil War, World War1 and World War2, the Korean War, etc.  They knew strife, and they knew hardship

  My Mama became a "butcherette" (which was what they called a female butcher back in those days) during the World War2 because most able bodied men were off fighting overseas in Europe.  My Daddy fought in World War2, and he was transferred off the USS Arizona just days before Pearl Harbor.  He then served on the USS Chester until the end of the war.

Money was tight, and there were hardships aplenty back in those days.
Families that were having a hard time getting by, were given something called "relief" during those hard years, as a way to keep food on the table, because the money you earned from working, sometimes just wasn't enough, and food was rationed to help support the ward effort.

And no one was proud to be on "relief" either.
People took pride in supporting their families, and when you couldn't...  well,  you had friends or family who were willing to give you a helping hand, or there was "relief" from the government, that would help fill the gaps, until you could get back on your feet
And they always did get back on their feet.
By hard work, and determination.

Then we - the Baby Boomers, came along after World War2, and life became a lot easier for most of our elders. 
As well as for us.

  Jobs were plentiful.
People were buying new houses, new cars, and enjoying unheard of luxuries for the first time ever, because the economy was booming.

And even though we now had access to material things that would have amazed our ancestors, we were still instilled with a work ethic.
If you wanted something?
Then you were encouraged to go out and earn it.
That bicycle, Barbie doll, Hula hoop, matinee movie tickets etc that we wanted, had to be earned, because it was never just given to us.
So we had chores.

Usually, the big ticket items like bicycles, and roller skates were received as birthday or Christmas gifts,  but by doing our chores (dusting, vacuuming, dishes, making our beds, weeding the yard, feeding the animals, babysitting siblings and the like) we usually ended up receiving a portion of the things that we wanted.
Or the things that we were absolutely convinced that we would die without having, anyway.

We earned them, by virtue of working for them.
And if we didn't... well, to tell you the truth, no one actually died.

But somewhere along the way, we lost that work ethic.
We lost our pride and determination to better ourselves, step up to the plate and take our own swing at life...

And somehow, someway, we eventually became dependent on others, or we expected the government to take care of us.

From the "Greatest Generation" to Baby Boomers, to Generation X, we've moved on to the Millennial's and now the post Millennial generation.
And we've gone from knuckling down and doing it the hard way, to somehow embracing and celebrating the welfare system... which has eventually led some folks to feeling entitled to have what everyone else has.

Free healthcare.
Free college.
Free contraception.
Free abortion on demand.
Free phones.

And they always have an excuse.

I need this.
I can't survive without this.
It's not fair that I should have to work my ass off to get what everyone else already has.
If they cut my EBT, I'll have to do without my favorite foods!
I have to have a cell phone!!!
Cloth diapers?  Oh heck no!!! I'll only use disposables, even if I'm dependent on someone else to help pay for them!
And what about Starbucks?  I can't function without my Starbucks!

Okay, I'll admit, I've listed some "gross generalities" there. 
But I'll bet most of you will understand what I'm saying.

When I was growing up, us getting to have McDonald's for dinner was an exciting "treat".
It was a treat!!
 We got it as something special once in a while, or maybe even a couple of times a year. 
It wasn't expected, no matter how much we may have desired to have it more often.

That's just the way it was... and if we begged or pouted for something?
All we managed to do was guarantee that we wouldn't be seeing it any time soon.
And then your brother or sister would whoop you when Mom wasn't looking, because you had just ruined it for everyone else.
I got my share of whoopin's from my sisters at times, believe you me!
And sometimes, I gave as good as I got.

Families sat at the dinner table almost every night, and we talked about our day.
We talked about what happened at school or work, who we played with, or what we wanted to do after dinner.
( which usually meant we wanted to play outside with our friends until the streetlights came on.)

Everyone in the family knew what page they were on, and where they stood... and they all knew what was expected of them.

 When a sister or brother got to the point of being able to get their drivers permits or licenses, or when they graduated from high school, and got jobs or went on to college,  it gave us younger kids the incentive to strive to do the same things.

We knew.... or thought we knew... what we wanted to be when we grew up. 
We wanted to be doctors or nurses, accountants or lawyers, work in a bank, or be a clerk in a department store.  Fireman, policeman, a surfer dude, or a wife or Mommy...
 Our options were endless.

Sometimes, our dream jobs eluded us, and we ended up with jobs that had never entered our heads when we were younger, or we ended up doing jobs that we didn't really like.
But they were the means to an end, and we just knuckled down and did them without whining! 
Babysitting, ironing for the neighbors, mowing the neighbors grass...
  We all did it.

My first "outside the house" job was as a telemarketer, when I was about 16 or 17, selling magazine subscriptions.  I hated it, and I sure as heck wasn't very good at it... but it brought in a paycheck.  And that paycheck - as minuscule as it was - helped pay for my first car... and a killer pair of Go-Go boots.

As far as I know, almost all of the kids I went to school with, eventually prospered at something.
Except for the ones who died in Vietnam.
But we ALL did our duty.

And we not only showed respect for,  but we also paid homage to our prior generations.
Disrespecting, or talking back to our elders was simply unheard of - and if you rolled your eyes? 
Oh man... your parents would usually give you something that would really make your eyes roll!

There are times when I look back at what we had for so many generations before us...
and my heart just hurts.
We gained so much in such a short time, that we've lost just about everything.

Friday, January 19, 2018

It's a slippery slope


Things have (mostly) settled down for us, since our move to Georgia in mid- 2016.  Even though with one thing or another, it took us much longer than expected.  Mainly, because I suffered a debilitating knee injury a few months after moving - resulting in a heck of a lot of things falling by the wayside. The main one being unpacking.  I did get a lot of "immediately necessary" things unpacked, like clothes and foodstuffs etc., but a lot of the "bonus items" like my trusty Yaktrax and  some of my favorite kitchen pretties, have yet to be found.
And man, let me tell you.... I needed those Yaktrax in the worst way, a few days back!

I may still be missing so much of my stuff.... but I do have chickens again!  Our current flock consists of 7 beautiful girls, and a cranky but lovable rooster, and oh the joy they bring me!  I could literally sit out by their chicken yard and just watch them acting all chicken-y for hours every day.... in spite of our current "well below freezing" temps!  I have to admit that at this time of year, feeding, watering, and letting them out of the coop first thing in the morning isn't my favorite thing to do... but it's all so worth it, when they decide to come outside for a little visit and natter with me, before starting their day! 
 Or maybe with them, it's just about the meal-worms.  I dunno...
My watching, and learning their rhythm as they go about their day, has shown me my own rhythm.  Some things are important on a daily basis, and some things simply aren't.

Nowadays, most mornings start out  with me cooking them a warm breakfast of oatmeal and greens, and of course their water is changed out daily, or as often as needed - especially since the freezing temps now turns their water bowl into a solid block of ice within a few hours.

So... mid-afternoon, two days ago, I grabbed a fresh water bowl and a jug of water and headed down the steep driveway on my way to replenish their water... and just to spend some time watching them.  We had had some light powdery snow for a few days, but it had mostly all melted off, so I didn't think twice about the condition of the cement on the driveway.
But I should have.
About halfway down the driveway, I slipped on a patch of ice, and proceeded to slide downhill for the next 15-20 feet.  I dropped the water jug as I tried (and failed) to break my fall, and it went spinning and sliding downhill faster than I did - and somehow it stopped by the garage door, ending up in a upright position.
Now, all I could think of as I got closer and closer to that bottle of water, was that this felt like a human game of bowling, and I was about to steeee-rike!

As I laid there halfway down that slippery slope, one car driving past the house slowed down, and then honked before continuing on their way.  Another stopped, and asked me if I was okay, and being the polite person that I am, I laid there on the ice, and said "oh, yes I'm fine, but thank you for stopping".... and off they drove.  Once they were gone, I continued to lay there, freezing my arse off... but since I was on a slope, and everything was iced over, I had no way to get back up on my own.
So I proceeded to bellow for my husband.
Time, after time, after time.  

I was making enough noise bellowing for my husband, that the young girl who lives on the other side of our creek (about an acre or so away) came out and yelled up the hill at me, asking if I was alright.  Still in my "nice girl polite-mode", I again said "yes - I'm fine, but thank you!".  

But my husband - who was no more than 50 feet away inside the house, heard nothing.  No cars stopping, or slowing down, no horn honking... no yelled conversations from either the driver of the the truck who stopped, or the girl across the creek.  Nothing... Nada.... Zip!

So at this point, figuring that no familial help is forthcoming, and knowing that I can not get to a standing position on my own... my next move was to do an "elephant seal maneuver" and flop across the ice until I reached the grass.
And that worked.

It was probably as unsightly and ridiculous looking as could be... but I finally managed to crawl back UP the driveway, by using the frozen grass at the edge of the driveway as a handhold.    Once I got to somewhat more level ground, I managed to stand upright, and I limped back into the house.  Limping, because even though I had landed HARD on my left side, my right ankle was the only thing that hurt - and it hurt bad!!   
At that point, anyway.
 By the next day, I felt (and looked) like I had been beat all over with a baseball bat, but I was thankful that no real damage had been done.
To anything other than my pride, that is. 

And you know what my husbands reaction was, when I came inside, limping and crying and dramatically telling him about my fall?  
The first words out of his mouth were "why weren't you wearing your Yax Trax? 

I may never find my old Yaktrax, but you can bet your bottom dollar, that I now have a new pair saved on my wish-list!! 

Saturday, December 23, 2017

I found the Joy in Christmas again.

This Christmas, I've discovered something about myself - and Christmas itself - that I never realized before.
Or if I did, I had forgotten it.

You see, as a child growing up, my parents always made our Christmas's magical.  Gifts, and warmth, beautiful meals and the traditions that we were brought up with, always left me feeling grounded and secure.

I was Blessed.

Then I had my own children... and I continued the same traditions that I had grown up with, with  my children... as well as  adding a few of my own.

Like a Happy Birthday Jesus cake, so that my children would always remember the true reason for the season. 
 As well as gifting others, who perhaps weren't as fortunate as we were.

 Some of the presents that I would buy from  their Dad and I, were wrapped and put under the tree a week or so before Christmas day, and my children would then pick one of their own wrapped gifts to give away.
They didn't know what was in the wrapped gift that they chose, so it was always a surprise as to what they had received... until they unwrapped it.  
And the gift that they chose, would then be matched with a child who had a star on the Christmas tree at the department store.

I will always remember my youngest son Jake choosing a present,  unwrapping it, and being so excited that it was the super-hero watch that he had been asking for, for months on end.  

And when I reminded him that this was the gift that he had chosen to give to someone else, he looked at me, with his little eyes shining, and he said
"Yes, but oh Mama, some little boy is going to be so so so happy with his new watch!"

No tears, no unhappiness... 
just absolute joy on his face, knowing that he and that watch would be making some other child happy.
And that right there, was when I knew, I was doing the whole "mom thing" right.

Gifts and warmth, beautiful meals, togetherness  and traditions have always been the mainstay of my life.

But things change.  
 Life changes.
 Situations change, 

And so did my needs - and my reasons - to maintain what I had known for so many years.

I now have 2 children in Heaven, celebrating the birth of our Savior with our Savior. 
And I have another child who has been estranged from me for years now.
I miss them.

So when I married Dan, I was so very blessed that he came complete with 3 children, as well as numerous grandchildren...
 and they filled  some of that emptiness in my heart. 
But they're all mostly grown now, and one granddaughter even has a sweet little baby of her own, who will be celebrating her first Christmas this year.  

Sadly, for the family, our great-granddaughters daddy
 died almost a year ago, and well and truly before she was even born.  So naturally, her other set of grandparents are happy and grateful that a part of their son and brother exists in our Little Bean...
  I'm so happy that she will get to spend these hard to get through holidays with them, and that she will hopefully rekindle some small spark of  joy in their hearts, in spite of their loss.

And I understand their needs completely. 
 I have to admit that I was a little sad that we would miss out on her first Christmas, but then I stopped and remembered the real reason that we celebrate Christmas.  
The only reason is Christs birth.  
And inexplicably, I felt complete and utter peace.

So, with no one but us to fuss over,
 no one but us to cook for,  
 and with no little ones, to delight in the decorations... 

We've returned to the true, real and most simple meaning of Christmas.

 ~ Christs birth ~

This year, we're focusing on the actual reason for the season.
And I hope it always remains this way.

For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord. ~ Luke 2:11

Wednesday, March 29, 2017

Don't talk to me before my morning coffee

I may wake up, get out of bed and move around the house in the very early morning, but my brain doesn't fully "engage" until I have a few cups of coffee in me.  So please don't talk to me until I'm capable of processing human speech.

I have told my other half this, time after time after time.

So what does he do this morning?

It's 5:07am, and I'm just exiting the ermm... ladies room, and I'm on my way to get my first cup of coffee... when my other half walks in.
And he then proceeds to tell me that he thinks that one of the cats peed on his toothbrush in the shower, some time yesterday.

I don't know if I actually responded to him or not (because my brain was not engaged yet, due to having no coffee in me and all...) but all I could think of was "well, ask the cats which one took a shower last, because I certainly can't remember."

And until I had 2 full cups of coffee in me,  I  actually stressed over which cat was the last to take a shower - which one was tall enough to reach the shower shelf to pee on it - and I wondered if they had hung their towel up or not.

No joke.
Don't talk to me before I'm fully awake.
It messes up my day.

Friday, March 10, 2017

I am a ceraunophile.

I love thunderstorms. 

 The whisper and wailing of the wind, the boom and crack of the thunder, the lightning that suddenly, shockingly, lights up the night sky.  
Leaving me blinded for a moment, before it fades away...
 only to come again.

Because sometimes in this mundane, boringly safe life... it's good to be reminded that not everything is perfect.

Not all good and excellent things are quiet and gentle.
That sometimes chaos and cacophony are not only a part of life,
but they are needed, as well.

A good thunderstorm is soothing to my soul, and it acts as a balm to my spirit.

Especially at night. 

 When it feels as if I'm all alone in the world, while my husband and the rest of the world are sleeping.
 While most sane people are tucked safely up in their beds, snuggled down warmly in their bed-covers;
 for me to be out on the porch, watching the wind and rain through sudden bright flashes of lightning... 

It's heavenly.

To hear and see and feel all that power and glory and to feel that it's mine alone to experience, is such a wondrous thing.

 I will never get tired of the night sky.

Of  rolling, booming thunder shaking the very ground beneath me, while the lightning illuminates the dark world in short, quick bursts of light. 
 Of watching the rain come down so hard, that mud erupts from the ground like dancing effervescent sprites.

I feel sympathy for the small wild creatures of the night, who need to hide themselves away from this dangerous storm, but I also feel envy... that they are right there in the thick of it.

I am a ceraunophile.

Monday, March 6, 2017

Happy Snaps / or Snaps that Make Me Happy

It's the little things ...

I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE this sign, even though it's seen better (much better) days.  It came into the thrift store when I was working in Murphys CA, and it was just tossed in the garbage - as "unsellable"!  Can you believe that??  I'm not exactly sure of the dating on it, but I'm guessing at the very early 1950's.

An article in the Chicago Tribune says: 

"A total of 280 signs for Wall Drug still grace the highways and byways of South Dakota, with many more along America's roadsides for hundreds of miles. Other signs now are on every continent.
 In Feldkirch, Germany, one reads, "See the six-foot rabbit at Wall Drug."

This gorgeous cross was my Valentines present this year, from my honey... He knows me so well, and I love him for it. The bottom picture is a close-up of the detail, showing  the beautiful individually carved dogwood blossoms.

 ~ ~ ~ ~

 I just LOVE these old Tupperware bowls, that came with the house... don't you?  They're identical to the ones we had when we were kids, and every time  I use, them, I think of my Mama and our camping trips.  But back when I was young, I really had no appreciation for them, and always wanted to eat my breakfast cereal straight out of those little perforated Kellogg cereal boxes that you could split down the middle, and pour your milk in.  Unfortunately, my Mama didn't understand our need to be cool...

 ~ ~ ~ ~

 We went to a yard sale just up the road from us last fall, and even though I had drooled over the lady's button collection,  the buttons just plum slipped my mind when we went to pay up. (I think that fact that the lady GAVE me her 3 huge Boston Ferns, kind of got me side-tracked.)  Anyway, I forgot all about the buttons, until the woman showed up at my house a week or so later, saying "I know you loved these, so I brought them to you rather than send them to the thrift shop.

 Running my fingers through those buttons brings back so many memories of my Mama and my Nana... who always kept their buttons in old candy tins.  Being allowed to "play" in the buttons, is one of my most cherished memories of my Nana.

~ ~ ~ ~

 Another treasured find from the thrift store in Murphys CA.  I kept telling Shirley that some of the stuff she was tossing out was going to be valuable to someone, but she didn't agree.  Lucky me.  
There used to be bottle opener almost like it at the old bait shop in Clearlake Oaks when I was a kid, and if I concentrate, I can still smell that gas and oil mixture smell, as well as the odor of the "warm in the summer sun" bait.  Oh... I'm gonna cry.

~ ~ ~ ~

It's good to have friends! My friend Melissa gave me some of these canned goods on Saturday, and a few were left in the house when we bought it... and I was plum tickled to get them!  Kosher Dills, Bread and Butter Pickles, Pickled Beets, Peach Jelly, Peach Butter... and a whole lot more!

~ ~ ~ ~

See? I told you this house was old, and cobbled together.  And it's little things like this door in the dining room that make me love it so.
 ~ ~ ~ ~

 Aren't these canisters gorgeous??  I wish I had the whole set, but this was all that was left... Another junk store find.  I fell in love with these roosters as soon as I spied them hidden in a local  "treasure store".  (okay, technically it was a "junk store", but I calls 'em as I sees 'em)

And of course, my old egg basket... I've got pullets on order, so it won't be too much longer before I will have my chickens, and can put the basket to use again!

~ ~ ~ ~

 My Monty the Moose hanging over my kitchen sink.  
Which seems like kind of an odd place to hang him, but you tell me where Monty Mooses are best hung!  (there was a hook already there, so that in itself helped me make up my mind)



  Okay... I'll admit to it.  I have a "thing" for measuring cups... especially the glass ones.  But they all have a use, so when I run across one that I like, it gets added to the collection.  


 Yet another thrift store find!   It's only decorative at this point, (it's been gutted) and it's got a false front on it now...  I originally planned on using it for spice storage... but since the perfect place for it was between the living room and dining room, it's now just used as a place to keep pens and message paper nearer our proper phone.  Dan says he can "fix it" so it can be used as a phone again, but we'll have to wait and see.  I heard that pigs can fly too.

~ ~ ~ ~

My favorite-ever apple peeler...  This thing works so well, that  I will never peel apples by hand ever again!  And speaking of apples, we've got a couple of 2 and 3 year old apple trees on order for the yard!  Along with peaches, apricots, plums and fig trees - and whatever else I may come across!

~ ~ ~ ~

We're starting to think of spring around here!  A friend and I plan on doing a garden together at my house this year, so we've combined our 'stashes' and I think we're off to a good start!

I've got a whole bunch of heritage seeds as well, (I can't find them yet, but I'm pretty sure that they're in one of the freezers), so I think this is going to be one big arse garden this year!  Luckily, we have the space for it, and a couple of ideal locations as well.

~ ~ ~ ~

 I can't remember where I found this terrific little foot stool, but I fell in love with it. Our daughter saw it when I posted it on face book... and she claimed it.  But she'll have to wait until she comes to Georgia to visit us, and even then I'll have to think on it for a spell!
I haven't had much luck yet in dating it, but it doesn't really matter to me.  It does need a good clean, but I'm a little hesitant to do much to it.

 I don't know if this is clear enough to read, but there seems to be even more writing under all the dirt and grime.  But until I can actually date this piece, I won't be cleaning it... because I don't want to damage it.

~ ~ ~ ~

Okay, I told you this house was pretty old.  Well, here's a photo on my kitchen ceiling with it's (painted) yellow pine ceiling... The way the wood has altered over the years, and the way the knots in the wood have come out, this looks like someone just painted over a very large spider.  The ceiling is low enough that I can actually touch it... which makes this probably the only "spider" that I will willingly touch!

And what's a blog post, without the obligatory photos of food, and a couple of kitties? 

Cherry /Pineapple Dump cake that I found on The Pioneer Woman and that I made this morning.  Breakfast anyone? It's a keeper for sure, and so easy to make!  Add a little freshly whipped cream (or a good squirt of "squirty cream - which is my personal favorite) and you've got a fantastic quick and easy dessert! (or breakfast)

 My first attempt at fried Hominy... with bacon.  I loved it, and so did the Man of the house!  Paired with turkey and gravy (and bacon) and Hoppin John (with more bacon)
We love bacon in this house... what else can I say?   And I love saying "paired with".  It makes me feel decidedly cooker-ish!

Sausage Cheese Muffins, artfully presented, in my lovely "Temp-tations" mixing bowl. It's one of a set of 3, that I got off an online yard sale site for next to nuthin'!  I have 2 matching butter dishes and a gravy boat, so it's s good start on a future collection.  Did you notice I said "artfully"?  That's not a word you get to use very often!  Between "paired with" and "artfully", I think I'm on a fancy word roll!
~ ~ ~ ~

 And ... another measuring cup that was still in the sink when I took photos.   This is my favorite "small" one, not to mention my only green one.

Lucy Kitty... keeping Mom and Dad company, while we hunted for the first Morel mushrooms of the season.  We didn't find any mushrooms, but in my opinion,  finding mushrooms are just a bonus.  Especially when you get  to wander on your own property, to your hearts content.  I just love this place, and I thank God on a daily basis, that we are so very Blessed to actually live here!

Our Cookie... She followed us every step of the way, and every time Dad turned leaves over to look for mushrooms, Cookie had to check it all out before he did.

 There were several other cats who followed us on the walk,   (I mean... we have 8 inside/outside cats, so chances are  pretty good that we're never lonely when we're outside)  but the others all wandered off to do their own thing... while Lucy and Cookie stuck right with us. 

Saturday, February 25, 2017

This dear old house of ours...

(click all pics to enlarge)

Oh, what do I say about this house?  I've been trying to begin a series of blog posts about this lovely old house, but between one thing and another, nothing is coalescing.

 Not on paper... not in print... and certainly not in my mind.

How do I go about putting a "feeling" down, when I simply can't put my finger on exactly what it is that I feel?

I love the house... that's a given.  
It's not perfect, and it's certainly not modern... but to me, there is something almost "timeless" and rooted about it, that makes me feel absolutely content.

It feels solid. 
And it feels enduring.

As well as jumbled.

You see, although the title company says that this old house was "built" in 1943, when you take a look at the interior with the various building styles and additions and extensions that have been added throughout the years,  something tells me that this beautiful old girl has been around since probably the 1920's, if not earlier.
The architectural details, and the wide yellow pine boards used for the walls, just don't add up to the early 1940's to me.

I've been told about a woman who still resides somewhere in this area, who was actually raised in this house (along with her sister and 3 brothers) and as she's considerably older than I am, so
  I'm absolutely positive that the county records are wrong.
What was once the "girls room" for the 2 sisters (which is/was the largest bedroom, before the "master-suite wing" was added about 5 years ago)  is barely big enough for a double bed, and the brothers only access to "their" sleeping area in the attic, was by using a narrow and very steep staircase in the girls room.

 This picture was taken from the very bottom of the attic stairs... and  the old iron bedstead I now have in here, barely fits.
If you want to walk around to the other side of the bed, you have to stand on yourtippy toes, go sideways, and sort of lean over the end, just so you can get around the end of the bed.
It's a squeeze... let me tell ya! 

Looking from the "living room", you can see on the ceiling directly in front of the bedroom door, that there's a badly patched spot - and it looks as if it was where the original wood-stove pipe went up through the ceiling.  It almost looks as if they simply popcorn plastered right over the decorative flange doo-hickey around the pipe.
Which to me... makes absolutely no sense to have a stove right in front of a doorway... unless the original door was elsewhere.  But who knows?
Surely someone does, but it's just a matter of finding who does, or maybe checking with the county for further records or clues.

  And if that was the girls room, with the boys using the room for access to the attic...  I guess it's anyone's guess as to what room the parents used, for sleeping in.

Was it this little room directly off the kitchen, that we are currently using as an office / computer room?
Certainly not the "bedroom" in the back of the house, because it's actually more box-room sized... with little or no space for any bed I've ever seen.  There's no way you could swing a cat in that room, without getting fur in your mouth. But it's the room closest to the "original" bathroom... so who knows?

Originally, this was obviously a pretty small house, and it had a wrap around porch on at least 3 sides.  Two of those porches have now been enclosed, which is nice in some ways.... but to tell you the truth, I think I would have preferred that at least one of the porches (probably this side one) had been left as it was. 

I mean.... it's a nice space and all now, and I do like it.  I eventually plan on putting a nice sized area rug in there, along with my wicker furniture and other what-nots that I don't want out in the weather... and it is where I'll eventually be doing my sweet tea sippin'.
The windows do open real real wide for letting the breezes through during the hot summer nights, and I like that. 
And I've even toyed with the idea of  putting a day-bed out there... for when it's too hot to sleep indoors, or for guests.
But still, I love doing my porch sittin' from a less enclosed space. 

In the picture below you can see the third side of the original 3-sided wrap-around porch...  We're currently using it as the cat room, just until we can get their enclosure finished, (just outside of the windows, on the upper grass area) so they'll still have access to the inside, but won't be living indoors all the time.

You can also see the "sort-of" newly built garage  just below the rest of the house in this picture...
   The window centered just above the garage is our bedroom, in our very own master bedroom "wing" which includes a pretty darn big bathroom as well.
Sounds pretty high-falutin', doesn't it? 

 Yes, there are "things" I would have done differently if we had been here years and years ago...
 but all in all, this house just touches something deep in my heart. 
I love it.
In spite of all the paint and windows and "additions" that they've tarted this old girl up with... you can see her timeless beauty beneath it all.

I'm home.



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