Chapter the first: In which we buy an old house

I suppose that it takes a certain type of person to be able to look at a crumbling wreck of a house and see beauty and potential. Old houses aren't for everybody, that's for certain, and there is something to be said for safe wiring and working plumbing. Still, when Gill and I first looked at the house we were smitten; the foot high trim boards in the parlor, the multiple fireplaces, old pine floors, wavy glass windows..... it had a charm about it that drew us in and helped us overlook its obvious deficiencies. People stop in all the time to tell us how glad they are that somebody bought it and how they had considered buying it, but... and they sort of trail off, apparently they all had more sense that we did when we agreed to buy this house with the intention of preserving it. We might have ignored its siren song and sailed away unscathed, but instead we raced headlong into it, grinning like a pair of idiots, knowing that it would swallow us in the process and not really caring.

The painted paneling with beaded edge

In the 2 weeks we've lived here we have uncovered real wood paneling, still with its milk painted green color mostly intact. The fourth fireplace that I *knew* had to be there and turned out to be in the oldest part of the house dating to circa 1820. The remainders of the crane are still there and honestly, I about died when we uncovered it. Some really bad and scary wiring that we never would have known about if we hadn't torn down ceilings. A pair of the original shutters, a butter mold, a crazy quilt and 2 wool (or maybe cotton?) carders. And a penciled date written on the plaster in an upstairs bedroom with the date "December 21, 1883", that's the newest section of the house.

Gill has replumbed and rewired enough to make us safe and we are making slow but steady progress day by day. I feel a sense of maternal pride in this home and I love that we live here in this place.

The Kitchen fireplace with crane