I love my little house very much. We've lived in it for 19 happy years, by far the longest I've ever lived in one place. However, the house pictured above is my most favorite of all the places I've called home. There have been eight in all. Unfortunately, this picture did not transfer very well to show its true beauty.
My parents bought this house back in 1964 for less than $20,000. Can you imagine that? I was 11 years old and I still remember thinking, wow! I'll be able to buy a house of my own one day with no problem when I grow up. My, how things changed. My mother wanted to move to more rural surroundings as the home of my early youth was gradually being hemmed in by developments all around. We ended up in a rural spot alright, out in the middle of nowhere on top of a hill. I wasn't too gung-ho about this move because I was not only leaving the only home I had ever known, I was also leaving my best friend of almost six years.
As luck would have it, I happened to be along on a ride with my parents when they went to check out this house with a realtor. This was a serendipitous event because it turned out that the house my folks had originally decided to buy had already been sold unbeknownst to the realtor. "Not to worry," said he, "Have something to show you just up the road". Up the road we went and there was this house situated not too far back from the road which was very common for old houses back east.
This house was around 200 years old (in l964) and sat on three acres of land which went mostly uphill at the back of the house. I remember stumbling around the property picking my way over piles of brush, diligently trying to keep up with the realtor and my parents. Finally, we were shown inside. It was a two-story house. In the living room was a fireplace huge enough to roast an ox. At least that's how it looked to my young eyes. My mother, a great wood-gatherer and fire builder from way back, took one look at that magnificent fireplace and said, "we'll take it."
The new house and property turned out to be a wonderful place to play. There were little natural springs all over the area. My mother went to work outdoors with a great will and cleared away the brush and debris; she was in her element! She created little connecting paths that ran every which way. It was so beautiful.
There was even a little spring that ran through the cellar which had mostly a dirt floor. This sounds strange but I don't remember it being a problem. The door to the original house which, of course, was now the cellar was still there. It was a large, thick door with a piece of bubbly, old-fashioned glass at the top and wooden pegs could be seen which had been used instead of nails. I thought this was really something special. And it was.
This is the house that witnessed the blossoming of a very young romance into a full-blown relationship which has lasted for almost 34 years. My husband and I were married in the living room in front of the fireplace of this marvelous house just about ten years after I moved in.
When my dad retired and my paents sold this house in 1976 and moved to California, it was a real heartache to see it disappear from our lives. I received this picture a little over a year ago from a dear friend who had been in the area and thought I might like to see how it looked now. The color is different and lots of improvements have been made but it hasn't lost one bit of its charm.
It's very comforting to me to know that someone bought it and obviously loved it enough to take such good care of it. It's certainly possible to fall in love with a house.
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